Work Text:
Prologue
Lucius's singing was out of tune, off-key and slightly pitchy, but that didn't stop him from singing to Draco's crib as it magically rocked in tandem.
Narcissa was staring from the doorframe, softly bemused.
"Lucius, Draco needs his sleep."
"And I am singing him to sleep."
Narcissa snorted, gently caressing his arm, a kiss on his shoulder so he wouldn't take it to heart. "Love, your singing is terrible."
"My audience thinks not!!" Lucius gestured pointedly at a sleeping Draco.
Narcissa playfully hushed him and turned on the little magical bauble that would help keep noise from waking the baby but also alert her if the baby ever woke. She then gently kept her wand in the pocket of her nightdress and ran her arms around Lucius's waist, pulling him into a back hug. They rocked together silently towards the window. She peeked up and saw her husband still had an adorable pout.
"Oh, come now my love, I was just teasing."
"So my voice is as beautiful as a nightingale?"
Narcissa laid her head against the back of his chest, straining to hear his heartbeat. "It seems to be the only music I hear now."
She only felt slightly guilty to feel so relieved about the subsequent events—the Dark Lord’s sudden downfall, her sister’s incarceration, and Lucius barely escaping the threats of Azkaban... now though Lucius was all hers--bad singing included-- and she could focus on the dream family she wanted. Yes, many had died, and she had turned her head away, refusing to look at the ugly parts of war.
But it was over now, and she wanted to live the vows they set out for each other, forever in love and bliss.
Lucius was deep in contemplation too; he was still young, a new father, barely escaped a life of servitude, and now they had their whole lives together. His face was so handsome, his jaws sharp and well-defined, the thin and perfect nose and his blue eyes caught her sneaking a look. He grinned, resting his hand atop hers. "See there, beautiful birds as my audience, they appreciate my talent!"
Narcissa followed his gaze and she saw hints of blue and white feathers. The birds collectively blinked at them without making a sound.
"You’ve sung until the birds have fallen silent in shock!”
Lucius frowned but turned around in her giggling arms. "I suppose you think that's funny. I will practice every day and just you wait-"
Narcissa resting her chin atop his chest, their lips inches apart. "Oh Lucius, I prefer you do other things with that talent of yours." To make her point clear, she pressed her breast against his chest and playfully skimmed her finger along his thigh.
He growled, lifting her, and she squealed in delight.
"Oh, you know how to pull my heart, my white flower." And he carried her to their bedroom.
1
5th August 1998
It was a Wednesday.
It seemed hardly significant to have something so important happen on a Wednesday. But here Narcissa was, in simple robes of dark purple, her fingers clenched atop her lap to stop her trembling.
Draco was beside her, quiet as stone throughout the whole ordeal. She was trying to be strong for him, but the trial had lasted for a week and as she heard every accusation—the attack in the Hall of Mysteries, conspiring against the Government, providing a child with a dark and dangerous artefact, the Muggle hunting, housing the Dark Lord and keeping wizards and witches prisoners in their home, financing terrorism—
Lucius shouldered it all. He refused to allow Narcissa to take any of the blame except to be guilty of witnessing his dark deeds. Narcissa wasn’t sure she needed him to take so much of the burden because Harry Potter came to her defence and made it seem as if she was a hero who lied to save his life.
She lied because she was done with the Dark Lord, the devastation, the ruin, she couldn't take it anymore.
Lucius said he understood.
Draco was saved with a one-year probation, permanent records, and he needed to be a part of Hogwarts' restoration programme. He would also be returning for the Eighth Year and his NEWTs. Potter came to his defence as well, stating that Draco didn’t identify them when the Snatchers caught them.
Narcissa remembers that day when the Snatchers brought in the three of them. She didn’t think of them as children then; all she thought was that they were her salvation, her hope to stop the torture her family was enduring.
It was a small mercy that Harry Potter never talked about her inaction.
She was the adult. They were children.
When Harry Potter had risen from the ‘dead’, and finally dueled with the Dark Lord, all Narcissa cared about was holding onto Lucius and Draco. Neither did Lucius, who did nothing to fight for their side. The Aurors took them last because they insisted on leaving together. There was a price to pay for failure.
Now Lucius will have to part from them again. The Wizengamot sentence will be a hefty twenty-five years (a mercy, Narcissa knows, for his cooperation in rounding up the last Death Eaters. They also didn't take into account the things he did during the first war, but still…)
The doors opened, Narcissa jolted to stand, and all forms of pureblood decorum left her then. Seeing her beloved, she rushed towards her husband.
“Oh, Lucius.”
Her husband embraced her, still shackled at his wrist, his face already lined and his hair unkempt. He was already changed into his formal Azkaban robes, the thin grey ones, the only clothing he would wear for the next two decades.
The Aurors had the presence to stand aside and give them some ‘privacy’ while still waiting in the room. Narcissa usually held herself together before an audience, but there was no time. Her Lucius was to be separated from her and there was nothing she could do.
Narcissa looked up into her husband’s face, his face was tight and stoic, but there was also fragility and fear in the quiver of his eyes, it made her heart shatter.
She had been a coward; she should share the burden. Perhaps if she confessed to something, they could relieve his burden, they were bound together, perhaps, perhaps…
“No, my love, I cannot stand it,” Lucius whispered, holding her chin. He swallowed hard. “From this day forward, no more mistakes.”
Narcissa pressed her lips together, tears falling down her face, she caressed his face adoringly, hoping to commit him to memory. Two years ago, when he was first taken to Azkaban, Narcissa didn’t have the chance to say goodbye, now she does and she isn't sure which one is more painful.
“Draco.” Lucius croaked, clearing his throat. Their son stood before him, a thin pale thing, not at all how they envisioned their son to be. War and the Dark Lord had ruined them all. Draco stepped closer, his eyes downcast, his shoulders rigid. Narcissa knows they’ve both failed him, but he is alive and no matter what the consequence at least Draco will not step foot as a prisoner in Azkaban.
“Take care of your mother.”
Draco gives a single terse nod. One last hug of goodbye.
The Aurors give the signal, and for a second, Narcissa wants to protest, to prolong their moment together.
Lucius gave her arm one firm squeeze, whispering a broken tune: "My white flower among the stars~" and pushed her gently away.
They take him, shackles and all, and Narcissa and Draco can only helplessly look on.
2nd March 2007
It’s a Friday.
Such an odd day to host a very important event like the award ceremony for the Auror induction ceremony. But she isn't the one hosting the event and, besides, she so rarely leaves the Manor for anything these days, so she says nothing and sits in the back. In her simple turquoise robes (still in chic in the early 2003, Witch Weekly Autumn edition), her large ombre hat obscures her face, and she hopes no one would bother her as she observes the ceremony.
Draco immediately joined the Auror Academy after his Eighth year, and although Narcissa thought that was an odd career choice (Malfoys didn't need to work, despite the heavy reparations after the war Narcissa salvaged all their remaining wealth and hired a goblin who was skilled in Muggle investing to help her grow their wealth into its former glory). Still, her son can be stubborn when he wants. After five years of rigorous and what looked like miserable training years, nothing deterred Draco. Narcissa surmised it meant he very much wanted this opportunity, this career.
So she kept her opinions to herself. For the past eight years, her life revolved around maintaining the Manor, ensuring her son was well-fed and well-prepared to succeed in all his exams for the Academy, and writing letters to Lucius.
Even after all these years, her heart still twisted painfully at the reminder that Lucius wasn’t here and he would be missing, on top of the birthdays and Christmases, another family event. In the beginning, Lucius had barred Narcissa and Draco from visiting. Azkaban was purged of Dementors, but it was still a dreary place to see, much less visit peacefully. She visited him after his third year of sentence. Her emotions were intense and deeply felt, she was happy to finally see him in the flesh and hold him even if it was restricted.
But it also broke her heart to leave him there and see him so different from the prideful handsome man she knew.
She was very thankful she was still allowed to write to him. Her visitation rights had recently dwindled and Narcissa didn't want to worry her son but she thought it was unfair that her monthly visits had slowly dwindled to quarterly visits.
Narcissa noted every detail of the hall and the clothes and who was in attendance to detail to Lucius in her letter. She would write a long paragraph so he wouldn’t miss a thing.
They called the Trainees, dressed in formal red Auror robes of dark maroon and red (very Gryffindoric, but perhaps that was a purposeful style choice). Narcissa couldn’t help but smile when she noticed Draco walking up the stage, sitting in the same row as the other graduates. Draco was seated beside Harry Potter and they both shared a grin, in a friendly way.
Draco had never shared anything about his training or what happened in the Academy. During his Eighth Year, his letters were focused on his health and his studies. So different her Draco was, sometimes her heart breaks at how much the war had taken from her. Draco used to share everything with her. She remembers reading pages and pages of him whining and complaining about Potter, telling all the school gossip and the list of demands he wanted from his father.
It was something Lucius and Narcissa enjoyed, listening to Draco's rant and later gossiping about it between them. Nowadays, Draco was a closed book, there was rarely anything interesting he was willing to share, and Narcissa worried that he was miserable and sad.
She wanted Draco to be happy and achieve his dreams. Even if his dream were to be an Auror. That's why she was here, to show her support.
They said his name.
There were a few murmurs and sparse claps (Narcissa clapped the loudest, but she was too far back to really make a difference), still, Draco marched to the Head Auror and shook his hand firmly, taking the golden badge that would remind others of his duty to the law and to protect Wizarding Britain.
Harry Potter was next, and there was thunderous applause. Draco’s face was stoic, his cheeks a faint pink as he returned to his seat, it was the same look Lucius had, one that exuded strength, and once again, Narcissa had to stem her tears from falling.
Everything was fine. This was a happy occasion. She was proud of her son.
Lucius was proud too. He didn’t agree at first when Draco told them his decision to join law enforcement. But Draco had refused to visit Lucius for six months when Lucius voiced his displeasure. Lucius begrudgingly never brought it up ever again. Narcissa understands her husband's doubts. She was worried people would use this to hurt Draco or seek revenge. But after five years, she could see her Draco had blossomed. A different, more confident wizard, and perhaps, with a better vision than what Narcissa and Lucius initially had for him.
After Potter received his badge, he returned to his seat with a scowl, Draco nudged his shoulder and murmured something behind a hand over his mouth, Potter rolled his eyes.
It was hopeful to see, a friendship with Potter could only be positive for him.
After the formal ceremony, Narcissa made her way slowly to the front of the stage. Families were hugging the newly inducted sons and daughters. In the corner of her eye, she saw Andromeda and Teddy, Potter's friends from school, and the full set of Weasley holler and wave at Potter. Narcissa gave her sister an awkward wave and quickly searched for her son.
"Draco!"
"Mother?" Draco accepted her embrace with a tone of surprise. "I thought you didn't come."
"No, why would I miss this?" She stepped back and inspected her son in his Auror robes. "I'm very proud of you. We're both proud of you."
Draco gives her a small smile, his hair isn't as long as Lucius's, but he keeps it long enough that she can't help but see shadows of her husband's face and she feels a lump in her throat.
"Mother, you say that every day." Draco's tone is still pleased.
"It doesn't make it any less true." She gathers herself, refusing to make a scene in public. She still has some pureblood decorum to maintain. "Will you join me for dinner? To celebrate this momentous occasion?"
"Oh, I can't, Mother." Narcissa's smile slips, "It's just, I have a prior engagement, the other Aurors have a celebration afterwards–"
"Of course." Because her son deserved good things, and she was also delighted to hear he was part of this group of friends. She hadn't heard much about his school friends. Pansy had left for her studies in seamstress and fashion in France, Blaise was managing a winery in Italy, and Greg was managing his father's estate in Ireland. There were rarely any letters, no visits. She would inquire there mothers but they aren't keen on replying to her letter nowadays.
Draco always seemed alone. So having other friends? This was good.
Narcissa forced a smile, patting her son's hand. "I'll see you at home then. And son, we are so proud of you." She repeated. So proud of the boy who survived and the man he became.
"Yes, Mother."
***
My Dearest Lucius,
Today I witnessed Draco standing resplendent in his Auror robes, embodying grace and fortitude at his induction ceremony. It was a beautiful ceremony and thankfully our son looks dapper in red.
Draco was so dignified and composed, receiving his Auror badge. He was the very image of you, his father, but he's also grown to become himself. I know you weren't happy with his decision but I am so grateful you have come to terms with his decision. He's so caring and serious about justice. Sometimes I wonder if I recognise him anymore. We managed to raise this? Time flies so fast!
Harry Potter was there as well. He was kind to Draco. Draco even mentioned he has a get-together to attend-- I am curious about his new Auror friends. I hope he will soon share any new stories. I hope he writes to you too.
I miss you with all my heart and count the days until you return to me. Until then, know that Draco carries forth the Malfoy name with honour, and in him, I see the best of us both.
With all my love and more,
Narcissa
Narcissa's quill paused in the air, the final words of her letter lingering like a soft echo in the quiet of her study. She carefully folded the parchment, her fingers tracing the creases with the same tenderness she imagined imparting to Lucius's cheek. Sealing the envelope, she addressed it with a flourish to Azkaban.
She was meant to get her owl to send the letter immediately, but then a tumultuous crash shattered the evening's calm, jerking her attention towards the source.
Wand in hand, Narcissa moved swiftly. The noise had come from Draco's old nursery. She hasn't been in that room in years, especially not since the Dark Lord housed here.
A wild animal– cat-like with large gleaming yellow eyes and large canines- had somehow crashed through the window and dirtied the room. With a swift flick, Narcissa silenced its attempts to lash at her and, with a spell as sharp as her whispered reprimand, sent it scurrying through the broken window it had unceremoniously entered by.
The immediate threat was banished, and Narcissa's gaze fell to the floor. She groaned at the mess and hoped the crib and Draco's baby things were still intact. (She had plans to give it to him as soon as he was married).
Narcissa caught herself from stepping on it, in the middle of the fragmented glass, a small, injured bird lay. Its blue and white feathers were strikingly reminiscent of Lucius's eyes.
"Oh pretty." She cooed. Gently, she scooped the creature into her hands, its fragile form trembling with fear or pain—or perhaps both.
Narcissa's heart clenched at the sight, her mind racing for a solution. Though her knowledge of basic healing spells was competent, she wasn't sure if she could help the magical creature. Their body structure and magic were different, and she also had no idea if it was a magical creature or a simple bird.
The bird's gaze locked with hers in a silent appeal for help.
"Beena!" Narcissa called out, and the elf appeared with a pop, eyes wide at the distress in her mistress's voice. "Bring me the Floo directory, quickly!" she instructed, her tone brooking no delay. As Beena hurried to comply, Narcissa cradled the bird closer, whispering soothing words of comfort. "You'll be alright; we'll find you treatment."
Turning the bird gently in her hands, she noted the nuances of its injuries with a critical eye. The cat-like creature hadn't been kind to her. There were bite marks and scratches from the glass. The bird rested its head pitifully atop Narcissa's palm.
Beena returned, offering the Floo directory with a bow. Narcissa scanned the pages for a magical veterinarian. When her finger saw the first magical vet, she briskly left for the Floo.
With the bird nestled carefully in one hand, Narcissa approached the fireplace, the Floo powder held tightly in the other. "There, there," She tried to comfort the creature. Green flames danced to life. Narcissa stepped forward, the name of the veterinary clinic on her lips.
***
Pince’s Animal Healing Centre was an old establishment that embraced modernity. Its clean lines and airy spaces mingled effortlessly with the whimsical touches of wizard culture and muggle that adorned every corner.
The walls, painted in soothing light purple and white hues, were adorned with sketches and moving photos of magical creatures in their natural habitats. Some Narcissa has never seen before, with whom she presumed to be Dr Pince in the frame. Awards and accolades, evidence of exceptional care and his Mastery, gleamed on another wall.
A wizard of experience and expertise, Narcissa felt reassured already.
The reception was manned by an elf, wearing yellow scrubs and a small yellow cap. His name tag spelled: Rookie. He looked up from his books, "What do you have for us today, Miss?" the elf inquired, quill poised over a parchment, ready to transcribe Narcissa's concerns.
"I'm not sure...all I know is that this creature was attacked inside my home," Narcissa replied, revealing the small, weakened bird in her palm. “I think it will need immediate care.”
The elf jotted down the information, and with a flick of its fingers, a magical tape was conjured. It levitated around the bird. The elf nodded to himself and flicked his fingers for it to disappear.
"You may take a seat. We will call you."
Around her, the clinic buzzed with the quiet conversations of other patrons—a witch gently rocking a Clabbert in her arms, a young wizard discussing the dietary needs of his Crup with a nurse, and a family of Kneazles playing quietly in the corner.
Narcissa offered a terse smile in acknowledgement to those who glanced her way, arranging her hair behind her ear with a practised air of nonchalance. She sat near the reception desk and sat with her legs crossed to one side.
The little bird lay with its wings unnaturally splayed, Narcissa gently folded it to rights, whispering, “A little longer my dear.”
When her name was called, she walked briskly towards the vet's office, noting the name 'Samson Pince' on the door.
His hair, a rich brown at the crown, crow's feet around his eyes and the white that graced the sides of his hair added a distinguished contrast. Face framed by laughter lines that hinted at years of smiles and frowns. A brown and white moustache. He wore canary yellow scrubs and greeted Narcissa.
The Pince is an old family name, but she’s rarely seen him around. Perhaps he doesn’t enjoy the social scene? The most famous Pince she knows is Richard Pince, a lead magical archivist. But she isn't one to ask such things. She left the elite Pureblood circles a long time ago.
"What do we have here?" he asked, peering at the bird in her hand.
"I was hoping you could help me," Narcissa said, carefully lifting the bird for proper view. “I heard a crash and saw a wild cat– I’m sure it’s magical too– and this poor thing on the floor was bleeding. I tried to heal it as best as possible, but I only know basic spells.”
Mr. Pince leaned in, his eyes lighting up with recognition. "Ah, a Joberknoll, how beautiful! They only live in selected areas—large valleys with open lands. They are commonly native to Europe and known for their silence. They are pretty things, but they don’t make a peep.”
Narcissa nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yes, well the Malfoy have been known to decorate their lands with exotic animals, why, I still have to care for my husband’s white peacocks! Now I think about it, my mother-in-law always disliked the sound of chirping birds. Perhaps this was for her?"
Mr. Pince laughed at that. He didn’t seem bothered at all when she revealed who she was. He proceeded to examine the bird with a gentle touch, murmuring spells that glowed softly upon contact. "Ah, sadly, I believe the healed wounds did not eliminate the venom from the creature that attacked it,” He lifted the bird’s frail wings, “Poor thing, damaged some of its nerves," his tone shifting to a more serious note. "But not to worry, a special tonic and some care should see her right."
Narcissa listened intently, her concern for the poor creature growing. "Well, whatever it takes to help her."
Mr. Pince hummed, writing on a square parchment. "I'll write you a prescription and schedule a follow-up next week."
“Thank you, Mr Pince.”
“And thank you, Mrs Malfoy.”
Narcissa left the clinic, prescription in hand and the Joberknoll safely secured in a magical containment box.
***
When Draco returned, his expression was clouded with discontent. He nearly walked past her when she was waiting in the dining room.
“Draco, my dear, whatever is the matter?”
“It’s nothing, Mother,” Draco responded, but his tone revealed begged to disagree. She followed him into the kitchens, where he opened a cabinet. He took out alcohol and poured himself a glass.
“Come have dinner with the Elves and me, and I’ll hear about your day.”
“I’d rather not,” He replied, a little weary, drinking his glass. “I’m tired, and I have a full day tomorrow.”
“Too tired to eat the Beena's turnip soup? I had them make it for you for your first proper day of work.”
Draco massaged his face and gave a long sigh.
“We’re assigned our partners today.”
“Ah.” So there was someone who was causing her precious son distress?
“It’s Harry Potter.”
Narcissa’s elegant brows rose. “Oh, but it is good, isn't it?” Harry Potter was a formidable Auror (or so she thought) and a natural saviour. He would protect Draco, and the public could only favour him more now with his association. Besides, she knows Potter treats her son kindly, judging by how familiar they are during the ceremony.
She could be wrong, "Is this not good news?" she asked.
"No, no, it's good."
"Oh."
Draco pushes his loose hair back. “I’m sorry, Mother, but we had a long orientation, and it was probably the nerves. I was hoping to retire early,” he says, changing the subject.
Narcissa frowns, very confused by her son’s response. Her lips purse. She knows something is bothering Draco, but he isn’t ready to share. No matter, she will coax it out of him sooner rather than later.
“Then rest well my Dragon, I will ask the Elves to send the soup up for you to eat in your bath.”
“But–”
Narcissa stared pointedly at him. He was an Auror, but she was still his mother.
His shoulders dropped in resignation. "Yes, Mother."
***
It was the break of dawn, and slender beams of light tenderly kissed the grandiose field of Malfoy Manor. Narcissa woke up early to prepare breakfast for her son. The House Elves were upset but forced to accept that Narcissa wanted to do this one thing by hand. Draco sometimes returned home late and left in a rush the next day, only taking one or two bites of toast. Narcissa began to prepare little packed meals to ensure he could take them to his office. She hoped somehow to bridge the gap that had grown between them.
Once Draco had departed, Narcissa set about her day running the Manor. There were gardens to foresee, a wild magical creature inspector to capture the wild cat still roaming her backyard, and the task of upkeep to be delegated to the other House Elves.
Then, she would tend to her new friend, the Joberknoll, who was laid in Draco’s baby crib in the nursery. She thought the room's colour suited its feathers, and she even gave the magical bird a name.
Philamona or Phila for short.
Tending to Phila had become the highlight of her days, a precious respite from the stretch of silence. She combed its feathers with gentle strokes and applied the healing ointment with meticulous care. Phila seemed more energetic, eying the room with curiosity. But she was too weak to feed herself, so Narcissa had to search a book and find out what Joberknolls ate (cherry pits and walnut seeds). She would delicately feed them using tweezers.
Narcissa spent a lot of her time researching about Joberknolls. She was fascinated by their unique qualities. Their feathers, of course, were the most valuable part of the bird, the blue and white tips used in truth serums and memory potions. She remembers that in the early years of her marriage, she saw the birds fill the trees, silent spectators of her perfect life in the Manor. The animals left when the Dark Lord came. Dark Magic drove them away. (Or it was Nagini scaring them off. Narcissa shudders to think). Phila perhaps had decided to return to them and find sanctuary in the tree before it was unluckily attacked.
She hoped it meant other birds would return and fill the trees, too.
Eight years, and perhaps her Manor will fully become her home again.
Another interesting fact about them is that they mated for life. They were notoriously quiet birds that only made one long shout by their death, recalling every sound they had ever heard in reverse.
“Well, then, I hope you don’t make a peep,” Narcissa said, caressing Phila’s little head. She wanted Phila to live a very happy and long life.
Even though Phila didn’t respond, it bobbed its head and looked at Narcissa as if it did. Perhaps it was the loneliness, staying long hours in Draco's nursery or the concern over her son's new job. Narcissa began talking to Phila.
“He would cry for hours unless we sang him his three favourite songs.” Narcissa would start. “Lucius was convinced Draco preferred his voice over mine.”
Her lips twitched, lost in memory; Narcissa leaned closer to Phila, confiding, "The truth is, I am a better singer than my husband.” Phila blinked. It's true! Here I will show you.” Narcissa cleared her throat and began to sing.
***
Mr Pince greeted Narcissa with a warm smile.”Let’s see how she’s fared.”
Narcissa placed Phila on the table for his inspection. Mr Pince’s smile fell, and his brows furrowed.
“Oh, this is worrying.”
“What is worrying?”
“Have you any knowledge as to what creature bit the Joberknoll?”
“Not yet, but I have called an expert.” Narcissa embarrassingly recalled trying to explain what she saw to the expert, and the wizard claimed it didn’t sound like any magical creature he’d heard of. "There are no leads yet. We’re working on it.”
“Yes, we need some answers because it will help me find a proper anti-venom.”
“Why? Has the treatment not worked?”
“I’m concerned the venom isn’t clearing as expected,” Mr Pince said, lifting Phila’s wings slowly for better inspection and murmuring a few incantations with his wand, "Joberknolls have an inbuilt warming system—hers seemed to have failed for some reason, and she is shivering. She will need help to keep warm.”
Narcissa’s concern mirrored his, “What should I do?”
“Perhaps a little incubator could help keep her warm,” suggested Mr Pince, his focus still on Phila. "I have a manual here I can give you."
"Is it properly complicated?"
"A bit of transfiguration and charms; I will give you a card for someone from Magical Menagerie who's quite experienced with building one..."
She’s never built an incubator before. “If I build it, will you come to the Manor to see if it’s right? I’ve never built one and don't want to make any mistakes. Is there free time in your schedule?”
“I’m usually busy tending my clinic…”
“Perhaps during your lunch break?”
Mr Pince took a second longer before finally agreeing, his nod accompanied by a thoughtful look.
“I’ll give my address.”
***
Narcissa tried her best to create a magical incubator as the manuals and the experts advised. But for extra measure, she gave Phila a warm bath every night and draped her in Draco’s old baby quilts.
Draco finally returned home early one day and was able to help with the incubator’s final set-up. He took an interest in her new friend, and she showed him Phila, who ruffled her feathers.
“She’s beautiful,” he commented.
“Yes, she is. We used to have so many birds in the trees. I hope more will return."
“Father’s peacocks are still in the gardens. You have been neglecting them.”
"Excuse me, I let them roam around my garden of roses!"
"You hope they would eat the snakes and insects ruining them."
"They were getting fat," Narcissa reasoned.
Draco huffed a laugh.
Narcissa wrote all about Phila to Lucius.
He, too, kept asking about his peacocks.
She rolled her eyes. Narcissa requested Beena to photograph her, the peacocks and Phila in her hand.
I've always cared for your rather incessant birds, my love!
***
2
Two days later, Mr Pince stepped through the grand entrance of Manor. Narcissa proudly presented the incubator she had fashioned for Phila. He inspected the snug, warm haven she had created thoroughly. And she was quite proud when he declared her incubator perfect.
“This room is also nice, with a beautiful view.”
“It was my son’s nursery. We haven’t used it in years.”
“I keep my daughter's baby things, too.” Mr Pince says with a chuckle. “My late wife, Ruma, could never throw away anything in her life.”
Narcissa shared the sentiment.
Mr Pince rummaged through his pocket and produced two vials, “I will give you another two tonics to try, but knowing what animal attacked Phila would be our top priority. Different magical creatures have different venom.”
“I understand.” Narcissa led Mr Pince to the dining hall next. “Since you are already here and I am stealing your lunch hour, let me treat you at least.”
Mr Pince hesitated at first, the lines of his face softening into a smile before he accepted, “That sounds wonderful.”
Throughout their meal, the conversation meandered from the health of the Joberknoll to more personal territory. Narcissa learned of Mr Pince–Samson, he insisted—and his family.
“My three daughters are all grown and married. I just gave away my youngest last summer.”
“How lovely.”
“Yes, my youngest has always wanted a beach wedding. Now she’s in Denmark following her husband, so it’s just me now, oh, and Rookie, my Elf.”
“Forgive me for asking, but you mentioned your late wife–?”
Samson smiled tersely. “Yes, passed two years ago, it broke my youngest’s heart that her mother missed her wedding. A magical carpet accident.’
Narcissa gasped, a hand on her mouth, “Oh, I'm so sorry.”
“Yes, it was very sudden and tragic.” Samson gathered himself, finishing his dinner, “And you?”
“Well, everyone knows what happened to me…” She tried not to sound too pathetic; she had to remind herself she hadn't lost everything. Fiddling with her dessert spoon, “I haven’t been able to rejoin my old crowd or be a part of society much after the war… it was difficult to know who was welcoming when the majority would prefer I not show my face at all. And Draco, well, he’s an Auror now. So it’s just me at the Manor,” Narcissa shared. Suddenly self-conscious, her cheeks blushed.
Samson didn’t reprimand her; his eyes conveyed understanding, “The house feels different when our children are all grown up and away.”
“Yes.”
"Home suddenly feels different?"
"Sadly so."
They share a private smile between them.
Their meals finished, and plates vanished. Narcissa walked Samson back to the Floo.
He opened and closed his mouth a few times before he said, “I enjoyed our lunch. If it’s not too forward, perhaps I can return the favour? I cannot cook for the life of me, but I am quite knowledgeable about the best restaurants on my street.”
Narcissa’s shoulders rose, replying with a wide smile, “I would like that very much.”
***
My Dearest Narcissa,
I am as well as one can be in the confines of Azkaban. The Previous Healer stated I was gaining the needed weight, and I have been prescribed to spend more time in the courtyard to ensure I will be getting enough vitamins. I am no longer allowed to read in the Azkaban Library quietly. They expect me to join the other inmates in the physical game of muggle football.
I am fifty, darling; it is a travesty.
Nevertheless, it will be something new to do, and I suppose Travers and Sewlyn are enjoying following the muggle games. I’m still joining the morning stretch and meditation. I believe I have finally understood Andhere and his talk of Chi and unlocking negative Chakras. I’ve signed up for another six weeks. The Mind Healer seems to think I’m making progress (he doesn’t need to know I enjoy reasons to skip breakfast duty).
Eric has shared the Prophet with me, and with your additional letter and picture, I was curiously emotional upon seeing our son in red Auror robes. Perhaps the Mind Healer was right. I haven’t ruined everything.
(The peacocks are not fat, how dare you)
I’ve sent him a separate letter to congratulate him.
They’ve invited a Master on Old Arcane from Canada, who talked about the purity of magic. I still believe the Ministry’s attempt to brainwash us all slowly is revolting, but at least they aren’t punishing us for not reacting. All we have to do is endure the four-hour lecture (Goyle dozed off after two hours), but on the rare occasions these talks are held, this one, I thought, was beautiful—a reminder of the fundamental beauty of our world and the powers we wield.
It said purity of magic is still salvable if one has love in their hearts, humanity’s brightest light. And I felt reassured because, in these dreary days, that is what you have been for me.
As always, I will await your 360th letter.
With all my love,
Lucius
As Narcissa folded the letter, a soft smile played upon her lips, igniting a wistful yearning within her. She’s glad to read that Lucius is warming up to the programs, but being separated from him is still not easy. The Manor was so quiet now, with neither of her boys home.
Narcisa wipes her eyes. It is no use crying; this is life. She takes a quill and parchment and begins to write.
Perhaps she will ask the Auror in charge again if she can have another visit; it has been almost six months; surely she should be allowed to visit Lucius soon?
***
Narcissa gave Phila her new tonic, changed her bedding, and cleaned her feathers. "I hope Draco returns early today," she mused. She had no idea what case he was working on but imagined that, as a newly inducted Auror, it must be dangerous and confidential. "As long as he returns home in one piece."
She changed into her sky-blue robes and did her hair a bit. She hadn’t let herself go completely, but Samson did say they were eating at a restaurant, and she’d been raised to look proper at such establishments. She tied her hair in an updo, two locks of her blond hair curled as a loose crown around her head. Then she clipped on two earrings, small blue birds; she thought them fitting.
She’s missed going out for lunch with friends. She’s been cooped up alone with the House Elves for too long. She wondered when she could rejoin society again. She did miss the balls, the tea parties, and the gossip. Narcissa used to lead a little book club, where they talked about their favourite romances. Dahlia Greengrass was among the few who entertained her in the early days, but she’s on holiday with her husband in America. And Narcissa still had difficulty spending time with Andromeda. Her anger has simmered, but she is busy with her grandson and becomes terribly upset if Narcissa drops by unannounced. She only visits on important occasions, such as Christmas or birthdays.
When she arrived, Samson had changed into his daily robes, wearing dark grey that highlighted the white in his hair. They exchanged greetings and, for a while, Narcissa wondered if she had made a mistake. She was half a century old and making a new friend; was she out of her mind?
If it bothered Samson, he never showed it. Without delay, they were walking towards his favourite restaurant, sharing stories about his many magical patients. Narcissa's worries ebbed away.
"This restaurant has Muggle fusion recipes, I hope you don't mind."
“Oh, very modern.” Narcissa was trying to be open-minded. She sat down and tried her best to follow Samson's lead.
It wasn’t anything too foreign for her; she ordered the salmon, and they shared a nice cherry drink. Samson talked about his travels around the world, studying magical creatures.
“What great adventures,” she sincerely complimented. “And what lovely stories to tell.”
“Yes, it can go on for more than one lunch– but after Ruma, well, travelling didn’t feel the same. No one to share my stories with. Perhaps it is the age— but I feel reluctant to part from my comforts,”
“Oh, I understand. Draco keeps telling me to leave the house, meet new people, and explore the world… but… it's all different and new and..." Narcissa really doesn't want to explore things alone.
It wasn't easy to explain because not many understood what it was like. To feel guilty for being free but unable to truly be free with your beloved in Azkaban. Lucius was the one who took her on extravagant trips. Her life revolved around his adventures and the stories of others. How could she do it all alone now?
Regina Crabbe refused to speak to Narcissa after the war, and Mary Goyle had moved to live with her relatives in Ireland. Cilia Mulciber was Cilia Travers now, having divorced her imprisoned husband for a younger one.
They were all paying for their husbands' crimes in their own way.
“The world will still be there when you are ready,” Samson said, breaking her thoughts. Narcissa gave him a watery smile, raising her glass in gratitude.
Yes, and she hopes Lucius will still be up to seeing the world again, too.
***
Draco returned to the Manor, and he was not alone. Potter walked into the Manor's halls, eyeing everything neutrally.
Narcissa quickly regained her composure and readily accepted him as a guest.
“At least now I can rest assured both of you have dinner!”
Potter replied with a crooked smile.
Narcissa proudly showed off the Manor’s newly refurbished and redecorated designs. Every memory of the Dark Lord was gone from her home, and Potter nodded appreciatively.
“I’m sorry Mother but we really need to cut the tour short, Potter is here for work..”
“Oh, of course.”
“Perhaps we will have dinner in my study–”
“Nonsense, a proper meal, Draco, just how I raised you.” This time, she was insistent, using her old socialite voice that usually got her what she wanted. Potter shrugged, already following after her.
Narcissa was too happy because, at the very least, her son was home for dinner. Potter humoured her and answered her inquiries about his first week at work and the expectations of his duties. Draco was initially silent, but Potter could draw him into the conversation, and they sometimes had conversations without her. Secret jokes she didn't understand.
"Robards wanted Draco to take the lead on the Inferi Case, but his humble arse-- sorry Mrs Malfoy, I mean, he just had to pretend to decline--"
"We both know your the one with Inferi experience-"
"I didn't score 320 on my Dark Creature exam, you swot."
"One of us has to be!"
The banter went back and forth so naturally. Neither of them was able to leave the other alone for a minute.
Throughout the meal, Narcissa observed something peculiar. Draco's smile changed noticeably, reaching his eyes more fully, lingering on Harry with an unmistakable fondness.
Narcissa couldn't stop staring at them!
Draco insisted they skip dessert, “Thank you, Mother, for everything you do, but we must be going.”
“Of course,” She waves them away, hopeful this would be a repeat experience. Draco then pulled Potter’s seat back, the way his hands hovered so close to him…almost touching…
This was.
Oh. OH!
With a mix of surprise and burgeoning joy, Narcissa realised that Draco had feelings for Potter.
The little romantic heart in her wanted to squeal in delight!
She’s always known Draco to have very strong opinions on Potter. She was grateful that their relationship was amicable, but a love interest? This was beyond her wildest dreams, the best thing that could possibly happen!
She wanted to write to Lucius straight away but then stopped herself. No, what if Lucius's immediate reaction was unsavoury? they couldn't kill Draco's hopes before he acted upon them.
Narcissa was fretting with Phila, combing her feathers and pondering out loud. This was too big of news to keep to herself. She wanted to talk to Draco about it, but he was always busy, and what if he still needed to sort out his feelings about Potter? She didn't want to rush him.
But oh, her son has a budding new crush! The blossom of new romance awaits, and Narcissa is just so excited.
With no confidante within the Manor's ancient walls, Narcissa later shared this revelation with Samson the next day during their weekly lunch. She's surprised Samson has agreed to accompany her, but having a friend over again has been nice. She said over a pot of freshly brewed tea, "I trust you can keep this in confidence, Healer's Oath.”
His brows crossed, “Phila’s health? If that is necessary.”
“Oh, this umbrella’s her health issues, but it’s about my son!”
Samson relaxed and sighed in his chair, “Ah, a gossip then,"
"Oh please, I've been dying to speak to someone about it, and you're my only other friend who isn't a House Elf.
Samson's cheeks reddened. "Of course, I will keep it a secret.”
“It seems Draco has found someone special." She pauses for dramatic effect. "It's Potter." There is a little glee in her voice.
Samson responded with a heartening laugh, "Ah, that is interesting, young love," Encouraged, Narcissa spoke freely of the potential romance unfurling before her eyes, her heart swelling with hope for Draco's happiness.
"I won't get ahead of myself, but matching robes in shades of cerulean blue."
"let's not get ahead of ourselves, not before the first date."
"Yes, yes, " Narcissa calmed herself. "I wonder how long has it been for Draco? Potter seems receptive."
"My first date with Ruma was very fancy," Samson recounts with a hint of pride, "Under the moonlight, watching moon calves dancing."
"How romantic!" Narcissa has only read of first dates like that.
“I err... fell on my way back from the hike.”
"It's still a beautiful memory!" She insisted, "For us, the Blacks have a certain tradition of these things; it was a more structured affair; our parents chaperoned us,” Her stomach felt warm with tea, remembering Lucius without his cane, his nervous energy manifesting in the constant tapping of his wand. It was a glimpse of the man before life's trials, a memory preserved in the amber of her heart. Young and presumptuous, thinking they could conquer the world. “They didn’t know Lucius had already stolen a kiss from me in Sixth year, and he was afraid it would ruin his chances with me." She sighed in her seat, staring at Lucius peacocks in the garden, "He cornered me in a quiet alcove, overseeing the lake. His hair was short, and his neck was too long, but he was very determined.”
Samson looks at her with an odd gaze. “You are a romantic at heart.”
Narcissa tilted her head. "I did read too many novels."
"That's good," Samson said wistfully. The world needs more romantics."
***
Narcissa frowned, not at all understanding why she was rejected from visiting her husband.
She thought about complaining to Draco, but no, he already had too many things on his plate.
Perhaps she should contact the Auror Eric. Surely he would allow an old witch to meet her beloved husband.
Narcissa massaged the sternum between her breasts, hoping to ease the aching yearning. All the memories brought up with Samson today made her miss Lucius even more.
Later, as Narcissa tended to Phila, gently patting her wet feather dry after her warm bath, she mused aloud to the bird. "I really do hope Draco and Potter realise their feelings for each other. No wonder he was so tense before. Oh, if he is like Lucius, he would be a jittery mess until they kill each other. Draco's always had a hard time with big emotions.”
An idea suddenly Lumos-ed in her head. “What if I help…nudge things along?" she contemplated, her mind whirring with excitement. It had been a while since she plotted!
Yes, the more she thought about it, the more excited she became to implement her plans.
***
3
Narcissa purposefully packed more food than was necessary for Draco, hoping he would share it with Potter. Each dish was carefully selected for its quality and charm. Alongside the food, she subtly included a vial of alluring perfume and, with a casual, almost offhand remark, suggested, "Draco, you might want to wear your hair a bit loose on the sides; it suits you."
It was all in the details that could sway the heart.
Draco was confused but dutifully followed her advice. With the most casual, subtle grace of a Slytherin socialite, Narcissa reminded Draco that he was more than welcome to bring Potter around for dinner.
As she busied herself with these preparations, Narcissa confided in Phila about her plans. Excitedly, she nearly forgot to pen her daily letter to Lucius. The letter, shorter than usual, was filled with the day's mundane details. While penning her reply, she was distracted by the sound of her son's return.
His cheeks were beet red, hair tousled, seemingly drunk.
“How was your evening?” She asked, trying not to be too pushy.
“It was fine.”
"Were you out with Potter?"
"What, no mother, just friends."
"Isn't Potter your friend?"
A beat of silence. "Yes, he is. he erm, he apparated me here,"
She wasn't sure what had transpired, but Narcissa hoped it was something positive. Potter taking her drunk son home was a good sign of things becoming familiar.
Narcissa's mind raced with plans and thoughts about how to bring Draco and Potter closer together. She was sharing so many ideas with Phila and Beena and slowly getting frustrated by how slow her son's progress was
"I'm thinking of creating a special moment for Draco and Harry," she told Samson. "Something romantic."
It would be good for Draco she thinks, some romance.
Samson was cleaning his Veterinian tools. He's been a patient friend. "Why not the equator sunset at Mold-Ul-Run Lake? It's breathtaking and utterly romantic this time of year."
"That sounds perfect," Narcissa exclaimed, a plan forming. "But how do I get them there?"
"Didn't you tell me they were working on illegal Fwooper smuggling? I have a friend who is a Magical Bird expert, Mr Wisely, who lives there. You could suggest they ask for his advice- the backdrop, the scene would do the rest."
Narcissa enthusiastically latched onto the idea. “Now, how do I get there?”
“Oh, you’re that kind of woman,” Samson said knowingly.
"I want to see it happen!” She confessed with a small smile behind her hand.
"I might need research for my winged patients?" Samson proposed after a minute of thinking, a twinkle in his eye.
“I should follow and say I want to try and give Phila friends.”
“You are a Slytherin!”
***
Don't worry, Lucius. I will find a way to solve this visitation problem. I have a friend who will clarify any 'issue' the Ministry deems necessary to impose on me.
So many great things are happening, and I can't wait to share them with you soon!
I don't want to spoil anything, but please, please, take this time to remember that our loved ones' happiness is the most important. I really need you to act on your best behaviour.
Will update you soon!
***
With everything set, Narcissa shared her plans with Phila, who blinked in what Narcissa interpreted as agreement from her feathered companion—the moment to act arrived sooner than expected. Phila looked healthier, and Narcissa saw that as a sign of good things to come.
Draco brought Potter over for dinner again, and Narcissa didn't waste any time before cornering Potter to agree to ask the magical expert for advice. Curious about the sudden trip and his mother's interest in Samson Pince's work, Draco raised his eyebrows in question. Narcissa explained it as support for Samson's crucial work in preserving magical creatures.
"Phila is also becoming healthier, and I hope she can make new friends."
The Joberknoll in question was already on her shoulder, nibbling a chestnut.
“You seem awfully fond of this man,” Draco said. She disliked his tone.
“Mr Pince is a kind wizard.”
Draco didn't question her further.
Soon, they were ready to leave for the bird watching.
Phila was tucked safely in a small bag, her eyes blinking slowly as if in on the secret. Narcissa watched as Draco wore his casual muggle clothes (the ones that flattered him the most, Narcissa made sure). The stage was set! All Narcissa could do was wait.
***
The picturesque sunset at Mold-Ul-Run Lake painted the sky in hues of orange, pink, and purple, and the serene setting was perfect. They met Samson's friend, Potter and Draco discussed about their case.
Narcissa and Samson lingered at a discreet distance, close enough to witness yet far enough to grant privacy. Narcissa couldn't help but watch the two with bated breath. Draco and Potter's shoulders and feet touched constantly. Her heart was thundering in her chest!
Samson held out a hand in front of her, "Something we learn about observing magical creatures, is to sometimes not disturb the magic as it plays out." Narcissa petted Phila and held her closer to her bosom, watching the two men avidly.
Potter made flapping hands near his face, and Draco's bright and genuine laughter filled the air.
Potter's eyes seemed to soften. The sunset was right in front of them.
Narcissa held her breath.
They kissed, silent and chaste. Breaking apart, they both stared at each other.
"Oh, Samson!" Narcissa couldn't help but whisper that she couldn't wait to tell Lucius everything.
"Wait." Samson cautioned.
Potter and Draco were suddenly speaking agitating. Something was not right. Draco swiftly turned and walked away, his face thunderous.
Narcissa and Samson both shared a confused glance.
"What just happened?"
***
Draco had returned to the Manor with her and refused to speak about what happened.
"Just let the matter drop for now Mother!"
Her son had never raised his voice like that, she looked at Phila, "Have I done something wrong?"
Phila nuzzled her little bird head in her palm.
"No worries, we'll set you to rest first, it has been an adventurous day."
After cleaning and warming Phila and setting her on her plush bedding (she'd stopped shivering, so Narcissa hoped she didn't need the incubator anymore), Narcissa thought about writing to Lucius. She was surprised to find a new letter already on her desk.
Dear Narcissa,
I pen this letter, my heart heavy with love and a profound sense of what is just and deserved. I have had so much time for personal reflection that I can no longer ignore the obvious.
I haven't been the most honourable or bravest man to be deserving of you as a wife. It's taken me years to realise- upon my Mind Healer's assistance- that courage is not a weakness and that there are other ways to pursue happiness than what has been impressed upon me.
You have been the cornerstone of our family, the bearer of burdens that were never yours to carry alone. Your loyalty and sacrifice have been the light guiding me through the darkest of my days. I wouldn't be able to serve my penance without you.
This is why I must do this.
Narcissa, my dearest, it is time for you to rediscover the joys of life that lie beyond the gates of our Manor, beyond the shadow of my confinement. You have fulfilled our vows with a fidelity that exceeds all expectations, and no words can truly capture the depth of my gratitude or the love I hold for you.
With a heart full of love, I say you deserve more than what the remnants of our old life can offer. The thought of you withering within the confines of waiting—of life paused—brings me more sorrow than my imprisonment. Therefore, it is my deepest desire for you to live freely, to embrace happiness wherever you may find it, unshackled by the past or a duty to me.
If you must, you should leave me.
The peace I seek is not for myself but for you, my love. The peace comes from knowing you are living fully, breathing freely, and finding joy in the beauty of life once again. More than anything, this would grant me solace, knowing that my love for you has become the wings upon which you soar into a new dawn.
Your happiness is all I seek,
You have my blessing
Lucius
She was so confused, distraught and thoroughly caught off guard. What did Lucius mean, leave him? Why would Lucius write to her something like this?
She found in the letter clipped with photos from the Daily Prophet of her having lunch with Samson, and she gasped, horrified.
She scanned the revolting and very misleading gossip about their budding friendship, the lunch they shared together, and whispers of Samson coming to visit her at the Manor. Oh, what Lucius must think!
A sudden crash jostled her from her thoughts; Narcissa hurried to the kitchens to find Draco on the floor, clearly drunk and unable to stand up properly.
"Draco! What is the meaning of this?"
With an inaudible groan from the floor, Narcissa helped her son sit up, wrinkling her nose at the stench. He hadn't cleaned himself, and his hair was a sweating mess.
"Beena, a hangover potion and that lovely ginger soup of yours, please."
Beena nodded, getting to work swiftly, staring at Draco with mild distaste.
Draco accepted the hangover potion and gulped it with a relieved sigh.
"How many times must I tell you, men, alcohol is never the solution." She chided. Narcissa could guess who Draco was drinking about, the question was why. "Draco, I saw you and Potter just now... what happened?"
Draco was kneading his forehead, “It was foolish of me, Mother; I shouldn’t have done it.”
"Did he - not reciprocate your feelings?"
"No."
"No." She repeated sharply.
"No, he did," Draco whispered.
"He kissed you back!" She said with more optimism.
"Yes," Draco said dully, not matching her joy.
"Then? Why aren't you-" She smacked her palm awkwardly.
Draco groaned, looking at her with his brows crossed. "Mother, what was that?"
"I know what people in love do." She said haughtily.
Draco dropped his head into his hand again. "Mother, it isn't us; we aren't right for each other." He accepted the glass of water and soup and thanked Beena. Beena took a seat to stare at Draco; she also served tea. Narcissa conjured a towel and gently wiped his sweaty head, contemplating what to say.
"I don't understand Draco, I thought... you liked him."
"I shouldn't."
"Whyever not?"
"We're not good for each other- well, I'm not."
"Says who?" Her tone rose. "My son is perfect, capable and handsome in every way-"
Draco cut in, his frustration boiling over. "That isn't - it's not about that- I will ruin him; look at me, Mother, who I am-" Draco pulled his sleeve to reveal his Dark Mark, "Forever wrong, and I can't- he's Harry bloody Potter!"
You must leave me...
Is this what Lucius meant? Narcissa's mouth opened, ready to argue with her ridiculous son, about to march to Azkaban and berate her idiotic husband too, when suddenly-
It came from Draco’s nursery. Narcissa immediately stood up, “Phila!” Rushing to the nursery, Phila was already repeating a drone of words. Shouting them to the ceiling.
Narcissa cradled Phila, and her heart felt heavy. “No, no, mi amor~”
As if sensing the depth of her sorrow, Phila stirred, a soft, unusual noise escaping her. Narcissa heard her own voice repeated to her, and her tears fell then. She had taken such good care of her- she was happily tucked in her arm. How, why was she dying?
Once it started, it was impossible to stop. Draco stood behind her, and they both grimaced upon hearing Narccissa’s lonely rant.
Then there was a long silence, the sound of other animals, a few conversations– Draco as a child. All the while, Narcissa petted Phila mournfully.
Then, the most surprising sound left Phila’s lips—Lucius's voice.
It was his singing, off-key and filled with a joy that transcended melody, that filled the room. Each note, each laughably tuneless bar, was just as pitchy and terrible as she remembered. Narcissa's eyes were brimmed with tears, but she turned to Draco, and despite the sombre mood, they both burst into laughter.
"Is that-"
"Yes, it's him." She confirmed mournfully. Kissing Phila on her head as she repeated his singing.
When it was over, Narcissa cradled Phila to her chest. Draco kneeled beside her, a comforting arm around her shoulder.
“I forgot father sang like that.”
“It was beautiful.”
Phila finally finished her last tune and laid still in Narcissa's palm. Such a beautiful gift at such a difficult time. Narcissa laid Phila carefully on her plush bedding.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save you, but thank you."
She cast stasis on Phila, then faced Draco, wiping the tears in her eyes.
“We're going to Azkaban."
***
Draco had to go through the lengthy process of getting a visit allowed. Apparently, Auror Eric was actively denying her upon Lucius's request.
"Whatever pitiful payment my husband has given you will be tenfold of suffering if you do not let me see my husband right this instance!" She snarled.
Auror Eric nodded his head quickly, stamping approvals on all her requests.
Narcissa turned in her wand, and Draco stayed back to give her privacy. Visitors were permitted to see inmates in a grey windowless room. The inmates usually came shackled.
Without Dementors, the chill was just bearable, but the loud crash of the sea and the blaring wind made her ache for her husband.
Lucius emerged, solemn and stoic. He misunderstood. “Have you come to give me an answer.”
Phila's loss, the misunderstanding, Draco and all the stress she accumulated in her-
Narcissa took two steps and-
SMACK!
Slapped her husband's cheek. "How dare you!"
The Auror and Draco outside peeked to check everything was fine.
"Narcissa?" Lucius said with a gasp, rubbing his red cheek.
"Samson is just a new friend! An acquaintance I made thanks to an injured Joberknoll,” she said, stepping towards her husband. Releasing a sob, she reached for his hand. His cheek was bright red. But he isn’t you, my love. Hasn’t the past twenty-seven years taught you anything? I stand by my vows, by you.”
Lucius's gaze, filled with a mixture of surprise and an undying affection, met hers. "Narcissa, when you visit me, I can see it in your eyes. You are suffering with me here."
"And when I don't come, aren't you suffering?"
Lucius closed his eyes slowly, "My love, I wrote those words to free you, not to bind you further… For years, you have just waited for me– I have another eighteen years–"
"I know," she replied, gingerly touching Lucius's lips. "But I’m a romantic at heart, you’ve always known that. My heart wants what it wants, and perhaps I was too subtle before, but all I truly want is you.”
“Narcissa…”
“I should move to Castle Beach,” she decided abruptly. "The elves will care about the manor, but I should move closer, get out of my comfort zone, make new friends, find purpose again."
"I would not take away your comforts, my white flower.”
“You are my comfort,” Narcissa said sure. “You are paying a price for our family, and I won’t let myself forget it. I’ll join Azkaban’s cause, the talks you hate so much. I'm sure I can do something to help ease you– or perhaps get you better meditative instructors, ones that don't tell you to leave your wife—”
Lucius had the audacity to look sheepish.
She leaned into Lucius, pressing her lips against his chapped one. "Whatever it is, I love you, always.”
Lucius blinked his eyes, turning away with a large sniff. “It’s true what they say: When a man loses everything, he will see what is truly meaningful for him.”
“Lucius.”
“It has always been you, you and Draco and I will live my remaining sentence in peace knowing I have the best treasures already.”
What can she do but smile serenely at her beloved? She was a romantic at heart.
They caressed and kissed some more. Some minutes later, Lucius began to sing, softly at first, a tune that was as much a part of them as the vows they had exchanged. Narcissa smiled and stared at his face lovingly.
The guards signalled that time was up, but as Narcissa walked away from Azkaban, her heart was lighter, and her steps were more sure.
She met Draco outside the Azkaban gates. Potter was there, too, holding his hand. They were having a conversation, two heads together with private smiles of their own, and Narcissa’s heart soared.
Romance was still and well alive.
Epilogue. 18 years later.
5th May 2023
It’s a Friday, a good day.
The air feels lighter on his skin, starkly contrasting to the dank, shadowed halls he's left behind. Narcissa meets him with a kiss and a firm hug. She has spent years supporting and joining Azkaban Rehabilitation programmes. Initiating the PHILA Institute: Families with Inmates and loved ones in Azkaban. She has also worked alongside Samson Pince and written a book on Jobberknoll's proper care methods. Her hair is cut short, she is wearing a beautiful robe of soft blue and white, and there are crow feet around her eyes, but she is as beautiful as ever—his white flower.
Together, they walk the path to their family, who is waiting by the dock on the mainland. Lucius finds a boat ride both short and endlessly long. He’s completed his sentence; perhaps it will never be enough to pay penance for his crimes (that will be a lifelong effort, he is resigned to accept), but officially, Lucius Malfoy is now a free man.
Draco stands there, the son he's watched from afar grow from a boy into a man. His smile is much more relaxed, accompanied by Harry, his fiance. Draco wanted to be married with Lucius in attendance- the one family event he should not miss.
Life still happens because their children- a young boy with dark hair and blue eyes and a girl with long hair and green- are playing at the beach, embodiments of a future Lucius had scarcely allowed himself to imagine during his darkest moments. The boat stops, their eyes meet his, and they wave their arms in a ridiculous and excited gesture.
“Grandpapa!”
Love was still alive.
Lucius squeezed Narcissa's hand, eternally grateful.
(isn't this so cheesy haha)