Disclaimer: You will find that it is a good thing that I don't own Harry Potter.

Quick note: I do enjoy Harry/Draco, actually. I wrote this story last summer because I wanted to try a Narcissa story, and figured I would share. The last time I was in the fandom, Harry/Draco was the most popular ship. Which means that for every gem out there, there are some very interesting stories...

Teatime at the Manor

The garden was alive with the fragrance of late spring. Narcissa Malfoy flicked her wand and the ornate tray settled on the table set amongst a few exotic plants from India. Then she Summoned a chair and sat down with a sigh. It really wasn't easy running the Manor all by herself, now that the Ministry had gone under some spew fad. She'd never learned to cook and honestly, store-brought crumpets simply could not compare to house-elf baked ones.

Narcissa examined the plate of freshly baked crumpets carefully. She actually didn't burn a single one this time (thank goodness for the safety spells on the oven!) and she'd managed to butter them properly, at least according to The Guide to Easy Pastries for Busy Witches. That would show Lucius, who hadn't believed her when she insisted that she was quite capable of cooking after the house-elves left.

She shook her head at the thought of her husband. She would've thought that after surviving the trial and being allowed back to the Manor would restore him to his former confidence, but it seemed the defeat of the Dark Lord had serious mental effects. He'd been prowling around like a man lost, more like her son than her husband.

Enough of Lucius, Narcissa decided, as she poured herself a cup of tea. She had a few hours until the next of her chores and for once she had some solid entertainment. With a self-satisfied smile, she produced a stack of pages printed from some Muggle machines called "computers."

She'd confiscated them from a couple of Muggle girls, while on her walk around Cornwall. They had been giggling and passing around those papers, and she wouldn't have given a damn about them if she didn't catch her son's name. But as soon as they said Draco Malfoy she was making her way toward them, pretending to be interested in the menu of the café they were exiting.

It took only a covert Summoning Spell and a well-thrown ice cream cone to transfer the papers to her possession. Upon a cursory glance, she thought the papers might be manuscripts of a book.

Now Narcissa would find out why her son's name had been involved. She began with the title page, which read The Destined Love of Two Mates.

She reached for a crumpet as she began reading. As she flipped to the next page, she took a bite of her pastry, and promptly spat it out, for once not because of its bad taste, but because of the detailed description of Harry Potter.

Now, Narcissa Malfoy wasn't terribly fond of Harry Potter, that arrogant and pompous git bootlicked by the rest of the wizarding world, but he was no longer on her list of least favorite people. If it weren't for him, she'd probably be serving some time in Azkaban, and Merlin knows how she'd get around without shampooing her hair with Silky Strands for Naturally Blonde Witches every day. So she tolerated him just fine, if grudgingly.

But his eyes surely were not emerald orbs, and his skin was not so soft to the touch that they felt like silk. Nor did he sound like a complete pansy.

"Oh Draco, I can't deny my love for you anymore!" the Gryffindor said. "I love you and I lust for you and I have no idea why! A mysterious force drew me into the Slytherin dungeons so I could finally see you, half-undressed…"

The boy in the Slytherin-themed uniform stood up, his expression inscrutable. There could be only one word to describe him: absolutely-gorgeous.

Narcissa snorted with laughter at the subsequent description of her son. Silvery blond strands that glittered under the moonlight, silver eyes that glowed like the stars, creating a silvery aura.

She knew that her son was quite nice looking because he had taken after her, thank you very much, but aside from his house color there just wasn't anything silver about him.

What was he supposed to be, a Veela?

Apparently so, the following paragraph informed her.

"I am a Veela, Harry," said Draco, reaching for the Gryffindor boy, "and you are my chosen mate."

Harry heaved a deep breath. "Your – your mate?" he said tremblingly.

"Yes," said the Slytherin, nodding solemnly. "I've known for a long time that you were my mate, but neither of us was ready to bond, so I had to mask my attraction for you under the guise of hating your guts. Trust me, such self-denial is no easy feat. At night I tend to cry a lot because of all the mean things we say to each other, but I know this entire time that we say them out of love."

"Oh!" said Harry, his green orbs widening and brimming with love. "That makes so much sense!"

"But never fear, my love," he said, sidling closer. "Now that we have finally found each other, really found each other, we shall perform my special mating ritual in no time and we will be together forever. Actually, let's sod the whole 'wait until you're ready' thing and mate right now!"

Narcissa rolled her eyes. It was bad enough that people often mistook her for a non-silvery Veela when she was younger, but this is ridiculous. Male Veelas, as far as she knew from past Care of Magical Creatures classes, aren't all that attractive, and Veelas hardly have some special mating ritual. In fact, does any creature really prances around and declaring some random other creature to be their mate?

Well, okay, so maybe Muggle animals do weird stuff. But still.

Those Muggles know nothing, she decided. Her suspicions were confirmed as the two boys' relationships progressed rapidly in the next three hours. Certainly courtship wasn't part of the "special mating ritual." Particular scenes were certainly steamy and creative, if anatomically incorrect. And apparently Draco knew more endearments than a drunken Lucius.

Narcissa tapped her cheek thoughtfully as their true love managed to defy the darkest of Dark Lords. There was a scene where Draco Malfoy almost died, which would've been touching if Harry Potter didn't spend a whole page elaborating on his love for his Veela mate, which left Narcissa spraying the grass with crumpet crumbs.

"I love you! Please don't leave me!" Harry sobbed. "I've loved you the moment we met each other, in Madam Malkin's robe shop, but I was too young to truly understand the depth of my feelings for you. It took us so long to finally find each other, and if you leave me, I don't know how I can go on. Oh Draco…oh my love, my soulmate…"

Then the miracle happened. Draco opened his eyes with much difficulty and focused on the love of his life. "Of course I won't leave you," he said, his voice silky and beautiful. "I love you too…"

They clasped hands. Then, softly, Harry said, "This brings me even greater joy than I know how to express."

"Why, my love?" whispered the beautiful Veela.

"I am with your child."

"Who wrote this trash?" Narcissa wanted to know, because the penname of the author meant nothing to her. Oh well. She shrugged as she reached for the next story. It took a few pages for her to realize that she had absolutely no idea what was going on, and several more when she realized that in this story, her darling son was a Muggle.

Such outrage!

"I love pop music but hard rock is also really awesome," Draco said cheerily. He lived up to his title as the football team ("Football?" said Narcissa aloud.) captain with his sculpted body and perfect smile. "I also love chocolate pop tarts. Here, want one?"

Harry took the treat shyly, blushing. "Thanks," he said softly.

"You are new in school, aren't you?"

"Yeah."

"I knew it, you walked around looking lost and you couldn't find your locker. But I'm glad you couldn't open your locker because otherwise I wouldn't have noticed you!"

Harry smiled, flushing instead of blushing now.

"Oh yeah, and I was wondering," Draco said, leaning forward so that he trapped Harry against his locker. "Do you want to come to the prom with me?"

Harry's eyes lit up and –

Narcissa stopped reading.

"Harry, you are the only one who can save me!"

"Draco, what happened?"

"I have been abused by my parents since I was young," said Draco, sobbing. He took off his shirt to reveal the purple bruises and numerous cuts. "They hate me! My father thinks that I am a disappointment and my mother is too absorbed in herself to notice me. I am all battered and that is why I am so bitter, even though I love you."

"You ungrateful monkey," said Narcissa, shaking her head. "So much for all the sweets that I sent you!"

"I got handcuffs for us!" Draco said brightly. "Want to try them on?"

"Sure!" Harry said. He smiled up at his lover. "Let's add some whipped cream for good measure."

Narcissa did not even need to know what whipped cream was, nor its purpose.

"I LOVE LEATHER!" shrieked Draco. Indeed, he was just HOT, decked in leather from head to toe. Harry looked at him admiringly from the Gryffindor table, and he certainly wasn't the only one to goggle at Draco. Leather on the blonde Slytherin just exuded sexiness.

The leather-clad Slytherin's mother made a mental note to look up "leather" in Andromeda's old Muggle Studies dictionary.

This last story was definitely the most entertaining…why was Potter sobbing his eyes out?

"Everyone hates me," the small thin pitiful boy said, his green eyes tearful. "All my friends hate me now that we had a big fight about a rhetorical question. I think…I think only YOU understand me, Draco."

Strong arms encircled Harry. "I do understand," Draco said, kissing away his tears. "I will take care of you instead."

"You are the only good thing in my wretched life," said Harry. "My parents are dead, some crazy dark lord is after me, everyone in the school hates me, and –"

"Sssh, I know," said Draco. He smoothed down Harry's soft dark hair. "I told you, I will take care of you instead."

The other boy continued to cry, but his sobs quieted as Draco gathered him into his arms and laid him on his bed. A few conveniently chosen spells were whispered and then –

"Mother, why do you look like that?"

Narcissa looked up, slightly annoyed with the interruption. Her son was gaping at her. "Oh hello, darling," she said. "You are home from work early.

Draco was unclasping his cloak, which was sooty with Floo powder. "Yeah, there was a bit of trouble in the Ministry," he said. "Apparently the house-elves have formed their own union of sorts. As if the whole spew business isn't enough, they now want voting rights so they can elect their own prime minister. Anyway," he said, shaking his head to clear his mind of voting house-elves, "Father told me I'd probably find you in the garden, but I thought you were having tea."

"Why, I am having tea and you are welcome to join," Narcissa said, surprised. "What did I look like I was doing?"

"Not really having tea?" Draco said lamely. He gestured at her cup of tea, which was still mostly full.

"Well, I got engrossed in reading a couple of interesting but untrue stories," said Narcissa.

Draco raised his eyebrows. His mother wasn't known for an avid reader. "What are they about?" he asked, conjuring up a chair and a teacup for himself and reaching for a crumpet. He took one bite and swallowed without wincing, which Narcissa took to be a good sign. Either her cooking has improved or her son had finally learned to stop whining. "Well, Mother?" he said. "What are they about?"

"They concern the romantic entanglement," said Narcissa, choosing her words carefully for maximal effect, "between you and Harry Potter."

She was rather disappointed when Draco didn't react all that strongly. "You've been reading Muggle fanfiction, then?"

"There's a term for that sort of trash?"

Draco nodded grimly. "I come across all the time at work," he said.

"Hmmm," said Narcissa. Her son did, after all, work in a clerical position in the Department of Muggle Relations, no doubt a sick joke posed by one of his school day enemies.

"It's a bit, well, disturbing at first, but nothing really fazes me now," Draco continued. "We don't even categorize most of the readings anymore…er, mind if I take a look?"

Narcissa gestured at the pile of papers. "Be my guest," she drawled.

Her son reached for a few pages of the Veela story and perused them quickly. He grimaced. "You evidently found a few of the worst ones," he acknowledged. "I would never say that to Potter. Or do…that." He shuddered.

"There's an illustration on the back," Narcissa said helpfully, and was pleased when her son flushed upon seeing it. Good thing Muggle pictures did not move. "The details are quite impressive, though the proportions can't possibly be correct."

Draco shoved the pages away. "Well, to be honest, Mother, having me and Potter, er, shag isn't really the worst thing that the Muggles have come up with."

Narcissa sat forward. "No?" she said breathlessly. "Do enlighten me."

"Well," said Draco, "there used to be quite a lot of stories about Aunt Bella and Sirius Black. How they're truly in love and how it's a tragedy she killed him."

"Oh," she said. "If you want my honest opinion, Bella and Sirius would make quite a fine pair. Age difference and mutual hatred aside, of course."

"But – but that's incest!"

"We are pureblood," Narcissa said, genuinely surprised. "Inbreeding is just a survival technique! Why, your aunt Walburga and uncle Orion were cousins! Granted, their sons did turn out to be disappointments, but nevertheless…"

They were quite good looking.

Draco looked put out. "There's you and Severus Snape…"

Narcissa wrinkled her nose. "That greasy-haired Mudblood-loving freak? Just because I had to be nice to him for your sake." She ran a hand through her long blonde hair. The idea wasn't altogether displeasing. She'd always thought it unfair that Bellatrix and Andromeda had so many admirers back at Hogwarts, while she had only a handful. After all, which one of them had the stunning blue eyes? "Of course, it must be a one-sided, unrequited infatuation where he pined away for me?"

Draco chose not to answer her. "There are loads of awful stuff, really," he said. "Even Crabbe and Goyle and Pansy and Millicent get their share of action."

That was quite shocking. Her son's friends, bless them or their dead souls, were hardly lookers. "Then you must be the main character of quite a few adventures," Narcissa said lightly.

He drew him up a little. "Yeah, I'm one of those who get the most actions. It's funny because there are quite a lot of stories about me and Gryffindors. Especially Potter's whiny girlfriend and that Mud – um, Muggle-born. A few with Longbottom too." He shrugged at the look of outrage on his mother's face. "But then according to the stories Potter's slept with every male and female he's met, dead and undead, and even his parents, and a few creatures too…"

"This is most interesting," his mother said, smirking. "Delightful reading, I'm sure."

Her son gave her a withering look. "Mother, it's bad enough that I have to go through this junk every day, trying to hide them from posterity and all that!" he said. "I mean, there was this one time when I read about Father and you and…quite a few other people, having an…um, you-can-guess-what."

Indeed Narcissa could and did guess. She threw a quick look at the window of her husband's study, barely making out his hunched figure. As if he would be up to anything exciting like that! For all the rumors about inbred insanity and Malfoy pride and pureblood kinks, Lucius Malfoy just couldn't be creative enough in the bedroom to do anything of that sort.

Not that she regretted its absence or anything.

"Where could they come up with those sorts of things, you think?" Narcissa wondered.

"Muggles," Draco said solemnly, "are mad."

Narcissa had to agree. Maybe torturing Muggles was a bit mean, but surely recognizing them as rational, thinking beings was pushing the limit a tad.

She took a sip of tea and realized that it had long cooled. Narcissa glanced quickly at Draco's watch and gave a sigh of impatience. Teatime should have been over fifteen minutes ago, and there was so much to do. There was dinner to figure out and something went wrong with her Cleaning Spells, so that some of Draco's work robes turned an alarming shade of pink. She stood up and Banished the tray, noting that Draco didn't look all that sorry to see the crumpets disappear. Hmmm.

"Mother," said Draco, as she started back toward the Manor.

"Yes, Draco?"

"Could we please just buy crumpets next time?" he said, sounding whiny again.

Narcissa glared at her son. And after all that hard work!

"Of course," she said eventually. "I will make sure to buy some crumpets from the Leaky Cauldron. Oh, and dear?"

"Yeah?" Draco was poking at the papers with his wand, as if he wanted to burn them but wasn't sure whether his mother would be pleased about the ashes.

Narcissa flashed him a dazzling smile. "You really ought to finish that story you were reading," she said. "It gets much more…passionate."

Draco looked decidedly green, but she knew that she'd piqued his curiosity. He hesitantly reached for the story he shoved aside and she gloated, imagining his face when he found out that after long and drawn-out labor Potter managed to give birth to their green-eyed daughter.

"She's perfect!" said Draco tearfully.

On the bed Harry gave him a happy smile. "Go on, name her, sweetheart," he said, admiring how beautiful his Slytherin lover is and how fortunate he is to have such a beautiful Veela mate.

Draco bent down to kiss him, and then he straightened, still cradling their daughter in his arms.

"I will name her…Lily. Lily Narcissa Celeste Serena Moonlight Beautiful Potter Malfoy."

On second thought, maybe she shouldn't be in such a hurry to do her chores. Sure enough, Narcissa was rewarded by loud choking noises by the time she reached the back door of the Manor.

"Cissy, what on earth were you – ?" said Lucius, striding out to meet her before he realized the noise wasn't coming from his wife. "What on earth was that?"

Narcissa gently steered him back inside, murmuring soothing words for explanation.

All in all, a most amusing afternoon.

-

Coda

Long into the night, Draco was still reading the stories his mother confiscated, in addition to some especially horrible stories he had found and kept for future records.

Gosh, those stories were addictive. Not that he enjoyed reading them. At all.

He sighed deeply. It wasn't going to be easy the next time he ran into Potter.

Please review and tell me how you like it! I have a strange temptation to write a companion piece...what does happen when Draco sees Harry again?