Chapter Text
The 20th of June was the Summer Solstice. It was the longest day of the year. Traditionally it would be celebrated with creating flower crowns, a bonfire, and dances to reconnect with nature. Young women would sing ancient songs, wear the flower crowns they made, and the young men crown their May queen. But alas, most of those traditions were long forgotten by the vast majority of wizardkind, damned to be only celebrated by a few remaining people. A number that was getting smaller with each passing year, and soon enough, it would only be a fond memory of those who once celebrated it.
But not right now. Right now Narcissa Malfoy was standing in the lavish gardens of the Parkinsons, between perfectly trimmed hedges and the tulips that were enchanted to bloom all year long. In a twist of fate, Peony Parkinson was blessed with another child and quickly made use of the holiday to celebrate the birth of the boy her husband, Andrealphus Parkinson, had so long craved.
At the moment, she was showing the infant to all of the guests, who would humour her long enough to name all of the ways he was special and how he would surely surpass all of his classmates when his letter from Hogwarts arrived. Narcissa patiently awaited her turn while silently judging this garish show of impropriety, which she would definitely hear about from Belinda Goyle when they were alone. Not that the woman possessed any more propriety than Peony Parkinson, but she was far more entertaining.
Still, she wasn’t alone with Belinda Goyle. She was waiting her turn, and when it finally came, she showed Peony her best, most genuine smile. "Narcissa, how good to see you," she said, while rocking the baby in her arms. He looked at her with his dark eyes, which he shared with his sister and father; a tuft of black hair was visible on top of his head.
"Yes, it’s been far too long, hasn’t it?" Narcissa replied; her excitement sounded genuine.
"To think the school year has finished already. They are growing up so fast, aren’t they? I am just happy that this one will be small for a little longer." Peony returned to cooing at the baby and making faces at him. With the smile still etched on her face, Narcissa nodded in agreement, fondly remembering the days when her own child used to be this small and making silly faces was his greatest entertainment.
"Speaking of growing up, where is Draco? Andrealphus and I haven’t been able to congratulate him yet. We were devastated when we could not make it to his birthday celebration, but you know... when a baby wants to come, it wants to come." She let out a short laugh that ended with a sigh and then looked at Narcissa expectantly.
"Draco is spending time with his friends, I am sure. You know, a boy his age needs to get away from his mother from time to time. I am sure you will get there when yours reaches that age." She answered. In truth, it was the first time she had no idea where her son was. The Malfoy family had arrived together, and then Lucius was swept away by Andrealphus Parkinson, Gregory Goyle Sr., and Mr Nott, claiming they had urgent news. That left her and Draco, but even he soon deserted her when he saw his friends Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott. So now it was only her, waiting for one of her boys to return, so that she would be spared this dreaded conversation and be able to do something more pleasing, as well as engaging to the mind.
"Ahh yes…friends. I am sure you should expect a girlfriend soon, shouldn’t you?" Peony now said with a smile that unlike Narcissa's was obviously dishonest. Her teeth shined just a little too brightly, and it didn't quite reach her lips. Narcissa knew, of course, what the other witch was implying. In her mind she probably already saw Pansy as the future Mrs Malfoy. Surrounded by wealth, that only the Malfoy and Black family vaults could provide. Not to mention the prestige that came with marrying the last heir to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black and Malfoy. Whether Pansy or Draco wanted that probably did not matter to Peony, her eyes always on the prize. Only that the "prize" was her son, and she would be damned if Peony Parkinson or her husband got their hands on him.
Narcissa was about to tell her just that when she suddenly spotted Lucius coming back from his urgent talk with his comrades. He looked worried, his eyebrows knitted together. Whatever they had told him couldn’t have been good. After spotting her, he quickly made his way over to her side, kissed her cheek, and then spoke, "Peony, congratulations on the baby. Andrealphus told me how happy he was to finally have a boy."
Clearly flattered by this, Peony thanked him. "But you will have to excuse me and Narcissa now. After all Andrealphus told me about your boy, I barely had the chance to spend time with her." He told her before she could engage him in a conversation. The woman told him that it was no problem and then quickly made her way over to the next unfortunate soul to talk to, which coincidentally was Belinda Goyle.
"Shall we take a walk around the grounds?" He asked her, holding out his arm for her to link hers with. And so, arm in arm, they took a walk.
*
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*
The news had been disturbing, to say the least. When Andrealphus, Gregory, and Nott whisked him away from his wife and son, he expected a long story about Andreaphus’ son, whom he had wanted for so long. Something happy but somewhat boring, that the other two expected him to suffer alongside them. True, it would have been a waste of his precious time, which he could have spent with Narcissa, but it would have passed, and he could have returned to her with a charming smile, ready to spend the rest of the evening enjoying himself. That was not possible now.
What he instead heard from the three of them was the worst news in his life. He was about to return. He would come back and would expect all of them to become his loyal followers again, to go to war with him again.
They told him about Pettigrew. The Potter’s secret keeper, who eventually ratted them out out of fear. Believed dead by the wizarding world after Sirius Black, Narcissa’s cousin, killed him and was actually believed to have revealed the location of the Potters. For twelve years he was imprisoned in Azkaban before breaking out, unleashing a wave of fear that consumed wizarding England. He could remember the panicked Ministry officials running around hastily, the annoying reporters, and Fudge, who was deeply afraid of not being elected again.
Lucius was, of course, aware that it wasn’t Sirius who betrayed his friends. His hatred for tradition and the Dark Arts was too great for him to support the Dark Lord. He easily could have told that to the Wizengamot, but doing that would have ruined his story that kept him out of Azkaban. Sirius wasn’t worth losing his freedom and family for. Who knew a stay in Azkaban could be a lesson in humility for the terribly arrogant man?
What Lucius did, however, was believe wholeheartedly that Sirius killed Pettigrew out of revenge and pure rage, leaving only his finger. Anyone with half a brain knew just how aggressive members of the Black family could get. To now hear that it was all a plan of Pettigrew, who he thought was a bigger dimwit than Arthur Weasley’s youngest son, from what he heard from Draco, was astonishing. He almost laughed.
To then hear that Pettigrew was currently working on creating a new body for the Dark Lord was even more shocking. He believed it impossible that he would return. Having spent the last thirteen years not thinking much about him. Except to rid himself of the Dark Lord’s diary in Draco’s second year at Hogwarts, by giving it to the Weasley girl. But now the former foreign concept became reality.
"The Dark Lord will regain his body." Nott said with his scratchy voice. "We should be prepared for that." He concluded.
"What do you suppose we do?" Lucius asked him, swallowing a bit of saliva, while doing so.
"Show our support, of course. Show him we always believed in him." Andrealphus replied with urgency in his voice. "Especially you; he would be most disappointed to know how quickly you deserted him."
"Me? As if you haven’t done the same! We all said we were under the Imperius Curse!"
"And yet it was you, who was his second in command, Lucius," Nott interrupted him. "It was you who got spared all the dirty work and simply influenced the Ministry."
Lucius paused. As much as it infuriated him, they were right. Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan went to Azkaban for their Lord, even fighting for him after he was gone. His behaviour would be seen as treacherous. It would be, perchance, enough to get him and his family killed. At the very least they would be tortured. He couldn’t let that happen.
Rubbing his forehead and letting out an exhausted sigh, he asked, "What is your suggestion?" He looked at them all with questioning eyes.
"The Quidditch World Cup finale." Replied Gregory, his voice gruff.
"What of it?" Lucius said, confused; he actually planned to take Draco, maybe even Narcissa if she wanted to, to it after Minister Fudge had offered seats for them with him in the top box.
"Show them His return is imminent. Show them who to follow, who is stronger." Gregory said.
"They are hosting it near muggles, I heard." Andrealphus replied, disgust in his voice. "Teach them a lesson to not associate with such disgusting creatures." He added.
Nott interjected, "This time we will surely succeed in ridding our world of impurities, make it our world, with our traditions again. Make them not be forgotten."
He contemplated the idea for a while. He had joined the Dark Lord for power. It was power he would receive if they were to be successful this time, even more than he held now. "I will have to tell Narcissa, of course." Lucius admitted. "You know how worried she was during the last war."
The other three laughed. Eventually Nott replied, "Are you truly that weak, that you let yourself be commanded around by your wife? Is she that good of a lay? Though perhaps it shouldn’t surprise me given—" Before he could finish his sentence, the tip of Lucius’ wand was at his throat.
Nott seemed to think of him as foolish if he thought that he could speak about his wife that way. They were getting far too comfortable for his liking. It seemed they had forgotten their places in society. The Dark Lord’s return could bring a change if he wasn’t careful and did not act fast enough. Amicable relationships were all a facade in their world. If given the chance, all of these men would love to see him fall. It had happened to the Rosiers and Blacks; it would happen to the Malfoys.
"I urge you to think before you finish that sentence." Lucius whispered dangerously to Nott. Right now, he was still in power. "If not, it just might be your last."
After that he went out of the room to go search for his wife, telling her would be the hard part, but it would be for the best.
*
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*
And that’s how he found himself in this situation. Having to tell his beloved Narcissa that another war was upon them, where they would have to overcome challenges and where he would have to fight to uphold his position in society again.
"So, what did they have to tell you that was so urgent? Or were you bored to tears with tales of babies as well?" She asked him, a slight mirth apparent in her voice. She looked at him with so much love in her eyes that he almost couldn’t bring himself to tell her. He knew it would crush her. It had almost done so the first time. He smiled sadly at her and averted his eyes. Almost immediately her demeanour changed. She now looked at him concerned.
"Lucius, what did they tell you? Did something happen?" She asked again more urgently.
"Sirius killed Peter Pettigrew, do you remember?" He asked, his eyes still turned to the floor.
"What kind of question is that? Of course I remember the name of the man my cousin apparently killed and went to Azkaban for." Her brows were furrowed together in irritation. The question was unnecessary, and he knew it was just to buy himself some time.
"He isn’t dead." Lucius said at last. "He is alive. He betrayed the Potters, and he framed Sirius for it and his murder. He is working on the return of the Dark Lord."
There was a minute of silence. He didn't dare say anything to her, not after what he had just told her. After another minute had passed, he slowly looked up at her in shame and saw her stunned face. "Narcissa?" He asked carefully.
"They want you to help, don’t they? To help him come back?" She slowly said, her voice quivering, quieter than usual.
"Yes, but first I will have to prove that I am trustworthy again."He replied, his arms slowly coming up to hug her, but she pushed them down.
"Prove you are trustworthy?" She repeated with disbelief. "As if you haven’t already done enough. You risked your life for Him every day. What more do you have to prove?" She now nearly screamed at him, looked at him as if she couldn’t understand him, her eyes were wide open.
"I know. But I abandoned the Dark Lord and the cause; I haven’t looked for him. But if I... if we do this, we would be in his best graces, can’t you see—" He wanted her to see the benefits, that after all those sacrifices, their world would be better and it would all have been worth it. They would remain untouchable, their future secured.
But she interrupted him. "No."
"No?" It was now his turn to look at her confused. "Cissa, can’t you see—" He tried again, but she wouldn’t let him.
"I said no. You will not put me, our family, or our son through this again. You will not put your life in danger for some madman! Or for some illusion of power." She said and took some steps away from him.
"Cissa, I know it is a lot to ask of you now. But in the end, all of the sacrifices will be worth it. We will live in a better world." He tried to bargain with her, smiled at her reassuringly.
"The sacrifices will be worth it? Is this what they were to you? Is this what you see Regulus and Evan as? Sacrifices for the greater good? Sacrifices to uphold your position?" She paused for a second, as if daring him to reply. "They died. They died for Him. Evan was barely nineteen years old and was killed by an Auror in combat. Regulus was eighteen; we don’t even know what happened to him. I wept for them, and every day I was afraid that it would be you next. That Draco would have to grow up without his father. They weren’t sacrifices; they were children!" She screamed; her voice cracked a little, and she spoke faster than usual; some tears were visible in her eyes. He didn’t know whether they were out of anger or fear. "If you want to join this pointless endeavour, you will do it without me."
"What do you mean?" He asked, confusion now mixed with fear.
"I mean, Draco and I will leave; I will take him with me and move to one of my family’s homes in France, or Spain, or maybe even Germany, and you can follow him into destruction and death on your own." Narcissa was now sobbing. "I will not let him get dragged into this, not by you or anyone else."
She fell silent again, looking at him defiantly, daring him to refuse her again. "You are serious? You really mean it?" He probed again. Never in his life had he expected this reaction from her.
"Dead serious. If you do this, we won’t return to the same home tonight, Lucius Malfoy. I love you, and I'd die for you, kill for you even. But Draco and his needs will always come first for me, and if you are still the man I married, you'll prioritise him too, not the Dark Lord."
"I don’t want to lose you or Draco. You know, I'd do anything for you." He said. He was starting to feel desperation. Trying to close the gap she had put between them, Lucius took some steps towards her. He would have to choose now. Make the choice between power and his family.
"Then don’t join them. Let the Dark Lord stay dead. The world won’t miss him." She stepped towards him too, hugging him, hoping that this wouldn’t be their last one, that they would return to their home again, where the Dark Lord couldn’t reach them.
It was in this moment that Lucius Malfoy knew that he couldn’t join the Dark Lord again. He couldn’t stand to lose his family, no position in the Ministry, no galleons would be worth it and in this moment he felt content with that decision.