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"And when You-Know-Who disappeared," said Fred, craning around to look at Harry,
"Lucius Malfoy came back saying he’d never meant any of it."
J.K. Rowling
"Give us this day our daily mask."
Tom Stoppard
November 10, 1981.
The headache that had burned in Narcissa's temples dissipated only when she went through the ritual of putting Draco to bed. His world was still simple and well-ordered -- he wasn't stressed about Bella hiding in Argentina, or the news of arrests and searches. He had been thrilled by the soap bubble animals she had conjured up in the bath and wanted to hear the exact same story they'd been reading to him for the past month, about a very forgetful Sphinx.
Narcissa wanted nothing else but to hold him in her lap and to inhale the clean citrusy smell of his hair. She lingered in the nursery doorway as long as she could, looking from the constellations on the ceiling to his tiny hands clutching the soft dragon, before tearing herself away and making the trek down two flights to the study.
"How's the lord of the manor?" Lucius's voice was hoarse from lack of sleep, eyes red-rimmed. He stubbed the cigarette out in the silver ashtray and immediately lit another one. Stress had created faint purple bruises under his eyes.
Narcissa waited until the smoke had cleared before pouring herself a glass of scotch from the decanter on his desk. "He's well. He learned to say 'more' and 'Dobby' today, so I suppose he's set for life," she said. "You need to sleep."
He sighed, sliding a sheaf of parchment across the desk towards her. "I will. Take a look. It's still not as good a margin as I'd want."
Narcissa curled up on the sofa and began paging through the annotated list of Wizengamot members. "You forgot Stebbins on here -- I can handle him, and same with Bradley. But yes, the margin is a little close." She looked up. "Are you sure this is the best way? It means you're admitting to at least some of it, and Severus --"
"Severus is now in Albus Dumbledore's pocket," Lucius sneered. "He won't have to testify at all, in exchange for licking boot polish for the rest of his life."
"You're just jealous you didn't think of that first," Narcissa smirked. "But," her face grew somber, "I just want to be certain that you're certain."
"A complete lie with this margin is more risky than telling the partial truth." He joined her on the sofa, staring absently at the crackling fireplace and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "I know Carrow and Gibbon are going to name me if they're picked up. I can't risk that."
She closed her eyes. "We could always consider --"
"We're not leaving. Do you want to be stuck in some drafty little house in Buenos Aires or Cape Town forever because the guilty flee?"
Narcissa fiddled with her rings. Bellatrix had gone, but then, she was convinced that exile was only a matter of days, not a lifetime. "I would rather Draco grew up with his father in Merlin-knows-what country than without one in Wiltshire."
"He'll grow up with his father in Wiltshire," Lucius yawned. "I want to double-check some of the wards on the artifacts and then let's get a couple hours sleep before all hell breaks loose."
November 12, 1981.
"Did you really need a whole battalion?" Lucius's voice was mild, but a seasoned listener could detect the undercurrent of malice. The three aurors and two hitwizards in the foyer had the grace to look slightly discomfited. Narcissa, hovering at the bottom of the staircase, sniffed disapprovingly.
"Better safe than sorry in these times," Kingsley Shacklebolt said courteously. "Now, I'm sure you know your rights, Mr. Malfoy, but -- you're under arrest and you don't have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Is that all clear?"
"Crystal," Lucius adjusted the silver clasp on his cloak and nodded towards the door. "Shall we? The sooner this little charade is over the better."
Kingsley was too professional to betray any confusion. "Of course. Er -- Mrs. Malfoy, Dawlish and Aubrey here are going to stay to search the Manor, but they'll do their best to keep out of your way."
"My son is still asleep, so I'd appreciate if you'd start in the dining room." Narcissa looked down her nose at the aurors and pointed to the door on the far end of the room. "The elves can assist you with anything you require, but please be careful with the Sèvres."
They didn't find anything. She spent the afternoon sitting in the nursery, watching Draco toddle after Dobby. She wrote a letter to her sister, and then fed it to the fire.
November 13, 1981. Morning.
"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, you have been brought here in front of the Council of Magical Law to answer charges relating to the activities of the Death Eaters." Bartemius Crouch Sr.'s eyes were nearly popping out of his head, and his hands as he gripped the podium were white-knuckled. "We have heard most of the evidence against you and will now begin with testimony in your defense. I see that you have several people lined up to speak for you?"
Lucius nodded somberly, leaning forward in the chair in the middle of the room. "I would like to start, Mr. Crouch, by saying that I believe that some of the charges you listed against me earlier may be true."
There was a collective gasp and the witches and wizards seated in the benches began to whisper. Crouch banged his gavel several times for order. In the front row of the benches, Narcissa had schooled her face to polite concern, though her heart was hammering.
"Is this a confession, Mr. Malfoy?"
"No -- at least, not one that makes me guilty," Lucius replied quickly. "Actus reus without mens rea, I think. My actions were performed solely under duress. For months, you see, I have been a victim of the Imperius Curse. You will shortly hear more from St. Mungo's Healers explaining the situation." There was a pause and more whispering before Lucius continued, head bowed slightly. "I deeply, deeply regret anything I may have done to cause anyone pain, and I am extremely eager to make amends in any way this court sees fit."
The first Healer stood up to give testimony.
"Scumbag," a voice growled from behind Narcissa. She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to turn around.
"Alastor." Another voice, low and warning.
"Come on, Albus, how do you think Malfoy can so perfectly describe the symptoms of the Imperius Curse? How many fucking palms in this courtroom have touched a Malfoy galleon in the past week?"
"Perhaps your quibble is with our justice system, then, Alastor," said Dumbledore. Against her will, Narcissa strained to hear them, but could only make out "be careful."
"I don't give a rat's ass if she hears me, she's fucking complicit in --"
Feeling her cheeks burn, she focused back on the testimony.
In the center of the room, Lucius shifted in the wooden chair, pushing anxiety to the back of his mind as he watched Narcissa's attempts to control her expression. For a fleeting second, he wondered if leaving would have been so bad, really, but then it was already time to vote.
A man thwarted, Crouch's face was red with fury: "...we find the defendant not guilty."
At the bang of the gavel, Lucius lept up, and immediately remembered to attempt an expression of humble gratitude. But in the benches, Narcissa turned around to face Alastor Moody and Albus Dumbledore and gave them a glittering smile.
November 13, 1981. Night.
"Cheers," Narcissa held up the champagne glass. "Better or worse than winning the Quidditch cup seventh year?"
"Oh, I don't know," he said, mock-thoughtfully, "All I really remember about the Quidditch cup was that someone told me afterwards that Narcissa Black was dazzled..."
"It was a sunny day, that's all," she said archly. "Well, you'll get your first good night's sleep in Merlin-knows how long, at least."
He leaned in and kissed her. "You were wonderful with all of this. Are wonderful."
November 14, 1981.
It took a long moment for them to hear the tapping at the window, and when they recognized the owl, Lucius went to go retrieve the letter, bemused. When he unrolled the tiny piece of parchment, it was in a slanting writing Narcissa recognized immediately as Rodolphus Lestrange's: At the edge of the property. Take down the wards. Need to talk ASAP.
Narcissa's face went very white. "But I thought they were in Buenos Aires!"
"Didn't we all?" Lucius said grimly. He examined the parchment with supreme distaste, as if hoping for it to reveal it was a poor April Fool's joke. "I wonder if they ever even left the country. I suppose there's no choice… I don't want them here for more than a few minutes, we're still being monitored."
Narcissa downed the rest of her wine in the time it took them to enter -- Bellatrix, eyes bright, Rodolphus, unshaven and dusty from travel.
"Cissy," Bellatrix held out her arms.
"This isn't safe," Narcissa said, flustered. "Why are you here, Bella? The Ministry is watching all of us."
"Your sister has a plan," Lucius said, voice silky with contempt. He poured himself a glass of wine and moved to stand next to Narcissa. "And she thought it made sense to include me."
Bellatrix's arms fell back to her side and her crimson mouth thinned unpleasantly. "Merlin, this is some kind of welcome."
"We cannot abandon the Dark Lord in his time of need," Rodolphus said in a low voice. Unlike Bellatrix, he had made no move to take off his traveling cloak. "He is not gone from us."
Lucius let out a sharp laugh. "Is he on holiday, then? He's dead, Rodolphus."
"Shut up, Lucius," Bellatrix snapped. "He is not dead -- because the Dark Lord cannot die!"
If she expected this to impress Lucius, she was entirely mistaken. A smirk crept up on his lips. "Right."
"You laugh, but He has entrusted us with --" Bellatrix glanced at Rodolphus and stopped. "Never mind. We've returned to the country to find him and wanted to see if you could be trusted to join, Lucius, but since you've so clearly whored yourself out to the Ministry..."
"Bella, don't you dare speak like that in my house! You can't just come here and say these things -- and you're putting us all in danger right now." Narcissa's face had gained some color back.
"It doesn't matter, Narcissa, they were about to leave anyway," Lucius's eyes had narrowed. "For what it's worth, you're correct, Bella. I'm certainly not going with you on some idiotic errand on behalf of a dead man. I don't particularly care for the hospitality of Azkaban."
"You fool," Bellatrix whispered hoarsely. "He will return, and He will know which of us remained loyal and which of us ran at the first test. Mark my words. And as for you --" she turned to Narcissa, looking revolted. "My god, I never thought I'd live to see the day when I had no sisters left."
Narcissa recoiled as if slapped, eyes shiny with tears. "Bella, don't do this."
"Get out," Lucius snarled, drawing his wand.
"You'll regret this," Rodolphus said quietly, though he'd already moved towards the door. Bellatrix let out a laugh, tinged with malice and hysteria, and moments later they were gone.
Narcissa pressed her hands against her face and sank into the sofa. "Do you know where they're going?"
"I have some idea," Lucius said grimly, pouring the last of the wine. "It's imbecilic. They're going to be caught. Here, let's have another drink."
November 16, 1981. Morning.
Lucius choked on his cup of tea when Dobby brought them The Daily Prophet.
"It's them, isn't it," Narcissa said, voice catching slightly. She set down her own teacup carefully. "I feel like I've been waiting for the other shoe to drop. What did they do?"
Draco banged his spoon against the high chair. "More, more, more! Mama!"
"Dobby, feed Master Draco the rest of his breakfast." Narcissa stood up and walked to the other side of the table, where Lucius was reading the front page, lips thin.
It took her nearly a minute to read and process the headline. "Oh Merlin." She clutched the back of his chair, suddenly dizzy. "Why did they…? How could they possibly think…?"
"People really loved the Longbottoms," Lucius murmured, smoothing the crease in the paper. The picture was captioned Frank and Alice Longbottom, taken earlier this year with son Neville (1 yr). Anger and frustration hummed in his veins -- Bellatrix was so stupid.
"You should go to the Ministry now," Narcissa said, slowly taking a seat back at the table. "They're going to wonder if we were involved, they're going to want to know how you feel."
"I know. I'll leave now." Lucius stood up, waving at the elf for his traveling cloak. "Will you --"
"I'll be fine," she said, staring out the window into the garden.
November 19, 1981.
Narcissa's feet felt heavy on the stairs as she traced the familiar path to the master bedroom. Life in Azkaban echoed in her head, and exhaustion and sadness wrapped around her like a blanket -- it was hard to breathe since reading the verdict. She paused outside the door, confused at the sound of gurgling laughter.
They were both lying on the bed, where Lucius was conjuring wispy clouds for Draco to play with. Watching them, Narcissa was tempted to leave until she could compose herself. But her chest tightened again, and she couldn't help it. She waited until Draco was fully absorbed with a cloud before she spoke, voice low and furious: "I found your contingency plans, Lucius."
"Please don't be upset."
"You left me signed divorce papers and you think I shouldn't be upset?"
He suddenly looked years older. "I know I should have said something. I just wanted you and Draco to have options if I ended up in Azkaban, and I knew you wouldn't agree if I told you in advance. I was going to get rid of them now that --"
"I would have burned them," Narcissa interrupted, angry at herself, angry at his fear, angry at how close she had been to not just losing Bella, but also him.
"And you'd have been a fool," he said wearily. "It doesn't matter. It's all over. It's over now, isn't it, little man?" He tousled Draco's hair, which was already sticking up around the crown of his head like wispy blonde feathers.
Draco had grown bored of the clouds. "Story now, dada."
"Maybe tomorrow, darling. It's bedtime." Narcissa moved to pick him up and he rolled over towards Lucius. She made an exasperated noise as he tried to pull himself into a standing position and fell down into the pillows with a shriek of laughter.
"Oh, just let him sleep here with us tonight." Lucius tried not to smile.
"And you say I'm the indulgent one," Narcissa sniffed, sliding under the covers. But inside she was grateful, as she knew Lucius was, to have their whole little universe in one place.
They both lay awake for a long time in silence, watching each other, watching Draco fall asleep, and letting the sound of his breathing drive the Dementors far from their minds and the Manor.
Fin.