Chapter 10: A Distressing Discovery

Bright morning sunlight peeked around the heavy drapes on the French doors to the bedroom’s balcony, dimly lighting the enormous room. A finger of light reached even to the tousled golden hair strewn over one of the satin-covered pillows on the bed. Its owner stirred, groaned softly in protest, and rolled over away from the window, her body wriggling through force of habit to snuggle against the familiar warmth of her sleeping husband.

Rolling over onto her stomach instead, Narcissa awakened enough to remember that, of course, Lucius was not there. It was now precisely two weeks since the Ministry of Magic had notified her of his arrest, on a morning much like this one. In person. By a team of Ministry busybodies who had proceeded to turn her home upside down without so much as a ‘by your leave’ and walk off with any number of articles they deemed ‘potentially dangerous’. Potentially salable, was more like it, Narcissa fumed. It was only to be expected, with the riff-raff that the Ministry was hiring these days. At least Bellatrix had not yet returned at that point, or Merlin knows what they might have dared.

It had served as a useful reminder of why her husband chose to fight. Someone, somehow, ought to stem the flow of these parvenus from the Muggle world. Narcissa’s nose wrinkled in distaste. Though privately (very privately) she wondered whether the Dark Lord was really the man with the right vision and plans to achieve that goal. Certainly, since his rise to prominence and later disappearance, if anything the influence of Muggle-lovers such as Dumbledore had grown, and even fewer of the old, true Wizarding families wielded the great influence that ought to be their due.

Joining the Dark Lord had certainly done her family no good. Her husband was in jail, and disgraced, her sister a fugitive from the law, and now her son was clamoring to join as well. As though the Dark Lord would accept the service of a sixteen year old! It had, she realized even as she had said it, been a mistake to state this so bluntly to Draco, however. No sixteen-year-old boy wished to be rescued from an embarrassing predicament by his mother and then reminded of his youth. He was naturally angry and upset over Lucius’s arrest too, and humiliated over the state in which she had found him on the train.

She had resolved to drop the subject, since time was on her side. In two years, a lot could happen to change Draco’s mind. If he retained his resolve, she could worry about it as the end of his schooling neared. Indeed, since their argument upon his return from school, he seemed to have accepted the reality she had pointed out to him, though he was still spending too much time alone in solitary pursuits. Perhaps she would urge him at breakfast to arrange to visit a friend, or invite someone over.

Thus resolved, she sat up and reached for the wand she kept in the drawer of the little table at her bedside. With a flick she threw the drapes open, allowing the morning sunlight to bathe the room in a golden glow. She set her wand down and took out her hairbrush, setting about the task of untangling and smoothing her hair.

Following several minutes of work, she rose, satisfied for the moment. She took a long shower and dried her hair with a quick spell. Then, with her towel wrapped around her body, she walked into the wardrobe and spent some time selecting the right robes to wear. Something light, it promised to be a hot day. And something nice, she needed to be in her best spirits to try to raise Draco’s as well. His moping about the manor was doubtless an expression of his worries regarding his father, and the sensitivity of an adolescent to the notoriety his family had attained. His resolve to follow his father’s footsteps indicated he in no way disapproved of his father’s choices, but that did not mean he would relish going out in public where people might point him out as the son of an imprisoned Death Eater…

Resolutely, she dismissed such thoughts and changed into her selection. Walking back out, she faced the full-length, gold-edged mirror on an ornate stand that she consulted for this purpose. She smoothed the robe over her hips and stomach, turning slightly as she did so, and decided that it would do.

Next, she seated herself at her dressing table and took a hard look at her face. A dusting of powder helped to lessen the appearance of fine lines around her eyes and the corners of her mouth. A touch of color on her cheeks and lips, and some cream applied to the skin around her eyes to reduce puffiness, and she passed muster. Not bad for the mother of a sixteen-year old, she decided, smiling. Not too broadly, though, that emphasized the lines, she reminded herself. Finally, the hair. A pair of newly silver strands she quickly charmed back to their original gold. A couple more quick passes with a brush, and she was ready to face the world.

After making her bed with a flick of her wand, she walked out of the room and down to the kitchen, where she found, as usual, that she had managed to get there ahead of Draco and Bella. Bella, of course, had to sleep in that dark dungeon in case any of those insufferable meddlers from the Ministry showed up again on some pretext or another. Draco, for his part, exhibited the nocturnal behavior that seemed an inevitable part of adolescence. Narcissa was glad of it; she would consider it poor hospitality and worse mothering, were she to leave her sister and son to fend for themselves. She suppressed a twinge of regret for the family’s lost House Elf as she lit a fire and started a kettle going.

By the time Bella and Draco had made their way to the kitchen as well, she had breakfast on the table. The meal passed in idle chatter, though Narcissa did manage to slip in the suggestion that Draco get out to see his friends. Draco, to her relief, did not fight the suggestion. Rather, he accepted it with alacrity, obtaining her permission to visit his Quidditch teammate Montague the following day. She had not realized they had become such fast friends.

As Draco and Bella cleared away the dishes, Narcissa reminded them of her plans for the day. She had an appointment at Gringotts before lunch, and an invitation to tea with a fellow member of the St. Mungo’s Auxiliary Board. To her surprise, Draco turned down her suggestion that they lunch together in Diagon Alley and do some shopping afterwards. Since he had agreed to go out the following day, however, she did not press the point. Best to let him get back to normal, or as close to normal as could be managed under the circumstances, at his own pace, she thought to herself, as she took her leave and set out for Diagon Alley.

***

After supper, Narcissa and Draco went to the library, as had been the habit in their household for years. It was the time of day that she felt her husband’s absence the most strongly. This had been their family time, when she and Lucius caught up on the events in their lives, and she might read aloud a letter from Draco at school.

Draco sat down in an armchair next to the Wizarding Wireless and turned it on to catch a Quidditch match, while Narcissa sat behind Lucius’s desk to read and respond to her Owl post, and tried to ignore Bella. Her restless pacing about the library was irritating, and Narcissa hoped that she would sit down with the newspaper or find a book soon. The ringing of the bell that signified someone had opened the front gates interrupted her thoughts.

“Bella!” Narcissa exclaimed. Her sister did not need to be told twice. She hurried out of the room and, presumably, towards her hidden bedchamber in the dungeon. Narcissa carefully adjusted her robe and hair. At this hour, the unexpected guest was doubtless an emissary of the Ministry of Magic, on a mission of harassment. Whoever it was would find her cool, collected, and perfectly groomed, she resolved.

When the doorbell rang, she rose and walked unhurriedly to the front door. Draco, she saw, followed her, looking a trifle nervous. He had his wand out. She peeked through the window in one door and gasped in surprise at the sight of a cloaked, hooded figure in a mask, with a couple more behind.

“Death Eaters!” she hissed at Draco, who lowered his wand at the news. “Go fetch Bella, please.”

Narcissa flung open the door, and the man she had seen stepped aside. A tall, thin figure swept past him and into the manor. She blanched as he threw back his hood. Those features, seen on rare occasions in the past, were unforgettable and unmistakable.

“My Lord!” she exclaimed in alarm. Remembering herself, she bobbed a quick curtsy and added more smoothly, “You honor our home.”

“Mrs. Malfoy,” the Dark Lord said with an answering nod, his high, cold voice echoing in the vaulted ceiling of the entrance hall.

To Narcissa’s relief, the others stepped inside quickly in their master’s wake, and she shut the door behind them. The front steps of Malfoy Manor were far enough distant not to fear the gaze of curious neighbors; nonetheless, Narcissa did not relish the thought of the Dark Lord and his escorts loitering outside her door. She debated whether to offer them refreshment while Draco went for Bellatrix. Would the Dark Lord consider it presumptuous, or perceive a failure to offer as a slight? Yet again Narcissa wished she had Lucius back at home. He would know how to handle this.

As she turned her back to the now-closed door, she saw that Draco had dropped to a knee, and the Dark Lord stood directly in front of him.

“Master,” Draco said, inclining his head respectfully.

“Rise, my servant,” the Dark Lord responded.

Narcissa abruptly felt lightheaded, and fell heavily back against the door with an audible thud. She righted herself, and saw that the Dark Lord looking from her to Draco, a horrible facsimile of a smile twisting his lipless mouth.

“Draco, Draco,” he said with a shake of his head. “Can it be that you and Bella have not shared this week’s developments with your mother yet?

“Mrs. Malfoy,” the Dark Lord continued, turning to face her fully, “I made it quite clear to him that as wife, sister, and mother of Death Eaters, you deserve to know.”

The delicate emphasis he placed on the word mother did not escape Narcissa. She had understood what passed between the Dark Lord and her son correctly, then. Draco had taken the Mark, incredible though it seemed to her that the Dark Lord would desire it, or that her son would do so against her expressed wishes. The shock of it robbed her of words; though she recognized that she ought to respond with some appropriate pleasantry, none came to her. She swayed and steadied herself with a hand raised to the door beside her.

“Your mother looks unwell,” the Dark Lord said to Draco. “Why don’t you help her to the library, and then we will join Bella?” He fixed Narcissa with a look that made her feel like a mouse cornered by a cat. She was beginning to suspect that there was more going on here than a courtesy visit.

“Thank you, My Lord,” she replied weakly.

Draco walked up to her with a worried glance, and she forced her face into a semblance of a smile and accepted his extended arm. If he remained unafraid, she did not wish to infect him with her fears. She would be strong for him, she resolved, as the party moved to the library.

The two Death Eaters, who had remained masked, stationed themselves outside the library door as Draco escorted his mother to her favorite chair and the Dark Lord followed, leaning on the back of the chair behind Lucius’s desk. The Dark Lord glanced down at the desk at the unfinished letter she had left there.

“I see I interrupted you as you were writing a letter,” the Dark Lord commented. “I had hoped you would have already written Lucius to let him know of my continuing interest in his family.”

“I must be discreet, My Lord,” Narcissa replied, “as my Owls are probably read by Aurors. But I shall say what I may of the week’s events, since that is your wish.”

“Indeed, it is my wish. You are, of course, not to breathe a word to anyone else of what you learn tonight,” he said. “Draco’s orders are very secret, and the consequences should anyone learn of them, to your son and to you, might be…most unfortunate.”

A chill ran down Narcissa’s back, for the Dark Lord’s casual tone as he made his threat suggested he would not hesitate to make good on it should she disobey.

“Of course, My Lord,” she said softly.

“I wish Lucius to know that, despite his failure, he is not forgotten,” Voldemort added. His slit-pupilled eyes gazed fixedly at her, and she caught herself trembling again.

Narcissa nodded her head and swallowed, steeling herself to respond. Had she imagined it, or had those snake-like eyes glowed with scarlet fire when he spoke of Lucius’s failure? “I will do as you command, My Lord,” she said. “I am sure Lucius will be proud, to hear Draco is following in his footsteps,” she added, amazed that she managed to keep her voice steady.

“Proud,” the Dark Lord echoed her, a hint of a smile playing about his lips. “Very well, then. Come, Draco,” he said, and moved towards the door. Narcissa rose to her feet.

“Farewell, My Lord,” she said as they left. She wanted very much to know Draco’s orders. As soon as her unexpected guests left, she could demand answers, but for now, all she could do was wait, the dread inspired by the news churning her stomach. Surely, it was nothing too difficult or dangerous. He was only a child, still…

The moment she saw the door to the library open, she leapt out of her chair. Remembering herself, she asked, “Has he left?”

“Yes, Mother,” Draco replied.

“So, what is this assignment no one wants to tell me about?” Narcissa said, rounding on her sister the moment she knew her unexpected visitors had left.

“Mother-” Draco interjected.

“Draco, go upstairs to your room!” Narcissa ordered sharply.

“But-” Draco said.

“NOW!” Narcissa shrieked. Draco pouted, but thought better of saying anything and headed up the stairs towards his bedroom.

“Cissy, why don’t we go sit down in the kitchen and have some tea,” Bella suggested soothingly.

“I don’t want any blasted tea, I want answers!” Narcissa exclaimed angrily. “What…is…the…plan?”

“I will be helping Draco-” Bellatrix began hesitantly.

“You had better be!” Narcissa replied. While this was apparently the Dark Lord’s idea, Bella must have acted as the go-between. Draco would have had no idea how to find the Dark Lord without Bella’s assistance.

“It is a great honor, Cissy. And the boy is serious-”

“Tell me NOW, Bella. I mean it,” Narcissa said, her voice dropping to a dangerous growl.

“The Dark Lord has ordered Draco to kill Dumbledore,” Bellatrix explained.

Narcissa stared at her sister, at a loss for words. Draco? To kill Albus Dumbledore?

“Why?” Narcissa whispered, finally finding her voice. “Why Draco?” This made even less sense than making Draco a Death Eater in the first place.

“Cissy, Dumbledore will never suspect a student-” Bella began.

“He has no chance!” Narcissa exclaimed. That the Dark Lord wanted Dumbledore killed she could believe, but he could not possibly expect Draco to succeed at such a mission. She remembered the impressions she had received that the Dark Lord was toying with her, and an alarming explanation suggested itself. Could this be an attempt to punish Lucius through his family?

“Draco is working on an idea, and I will be helping-” Bella began.

“You?” Narcissa interrupted heatedly. “You are a wanted criminal, and you are here. Not at Hogwarts. And what help could you give, anyway? You are highly skilled, I do not doubt this is why you alone escaped while even Lucius was captured, but against Dumbledore escape is all you could hope to do.”

“It should not be a battle-”

“Battle is what you are best at!” Narcissa exclaimed. “This task calls for subtlety and stealth...” Narcissa trailed off.

If only Lucius were around…but he was not. She asked herself what he would do in her place, and abruptly the answer came to her. There was someone perfect for the job, someone already at Hogwarts. She spun on her heel and strode to the cloakroom, to fetch her black hooded cloak. Tossing it around her shoulders, she headed for the dungeons and the secret passage out of the manor. She did not care to be seen leaving, in the event her guests tarried on the grounds. As she halted in front of the tapestry that marked the entrance to Bella’s hiding place, a slightly breathless Bella, also wearing a cloak, caught up to her.

“Cissy, where are you going?” Bellatrix asked.

“Snape,” she replied succinctly, as the hidden door in the wall slid open on her command. As she descended the narrow staircase, she drew her wand to light her path.

“But the Dark Lord has ordered us not to speak of it!” Bella said.

“He has also ordered my son to kill Albus Dumbledore,” Narcissa countered. “I know what failure would mean for Draco, Bella.”

“Snape can’t help you, Narcissa,” Bellatrix argued as she followed Narcissa into the narrow passageway.

“Can’t?” Narcissa said. “I think he can. An undetectable poison, or a slow acting curse, are both well within his power – and he is in a position to administer either, as well.”

“If the Dark Lord wanted Snape to do it, he would have ordered it, Cissy!” Bellatrix argued.

“Bella, the Dark Lord wants Dumbledore dead,” Narcissa said. “I do not care what else he wants. I want Draco to succeed, and I will do whatever it takes to achieve it.”

“Narcissa, Snape won’t do it,” Bellatrix insisted. “He is always finding excuses-”

“I won’t know until I have asked, Bella,” Narcissa said resolutely, as a wave of her wand lifted the trapdoor above, revealing a patch of night sky. She doused her wand and clambered up out of the hole. She stood still for a moment, remembering what Lucius had told her about Snape’s home and fixing it in her mind. Pulling up her hood, Narcissa Disapparated.

As the crushing sensation of Apparition receded, Narcissa found herself in an unfamiliar location. Peering about her through the chilly mist that drifted over the river, Narcissa ascertained that she had arrived on the correct side, and began a rapid ascent up the riverbank in the direction of the tall chimney that loomed over the rows of houses below it.

Shortly she heard a loud pop, and then her sister’s voice, urging her to wait. A flash of green light momentarily lighted Narcissa’s way, and she turned back for a moment.

“Just a fox,” Bella said. “I thought perhaps an Auror – Cissy, wait!”

Narcissa continued up the bank. As she gained the road at the top, Bellatrix caught up with her. They stood for a moment, Narcissa scanning the rows of brick houses, alike in their decrepitude, for the alley she sought.

“He lives here?” Bella asked contemptuously. “Here? In this Muggle dunghill? We must be the first of our kind to set foot-”

Narcissa quickly crossed the narrow cobbled street and darted into the alley.

“Cissy, wait!” Bellatrix said.

Narcissa continued, ignoring her sister’s protests as she mentally recited Lucius’s description to herself. Abruptly her upper arm was seized from behind, and she was swung around to face Bella.

“Cissy, you must not do this, you can’t trust him-”

“The Dark Lord trusts him, doesn’t he?” Narcissa asked.

“The Dark Lord is…I believe…mistaken,” Bella said, her words broken up as she took quick, short breaths. She looked about furtively before continuing. “In any case, we were told not to speak of the plan to anyone. This is a betrayal of the Dark Lord’s-”

Since it was quite clear to Narcissa that Bella would even have implied Lucius was untrustworthy if Narcissa tolerated such a thing in her house, she was certainly not going to be guided by her sister’s doubtless excessive suspicions of Snape when she so desperately needed his help.

Angered, she snarled, “Let go, Bella!” She drew her wand and pointed it in Bella’s face.

Bella laughed. “Cissy, your own sister? You wouldn’t-”

“There is nothing I would not do anymore!” Narcissa said, as she brought her wand down on Bella’s hand with a nonverbal burning hex. As Bella released her, Narcissa rushed ahead.

“Narcissa!” Bella exclaimed.

Ignoring her sister’s pained protest, Narcissa continued into the maze of narrow, ill-lit, filthy streets. Before long, she stood before the sign for Spinner’s End. Turning into that street, Narcissa walked down to the last house, noted with satisfaction the light in one window, and knocked on its door. Bella caught up to her before anyone came to answer, and they stood there together, breathing heavily from their exertions.


Author’s Note: This chapter includes a scene from Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, Ch. 2, “Spinner's End”. The dialogue in that scene is therefore all Rowling’s.