The War Without an End.
Chapter One.
Warning: Rated M for adult language and implied sexual terms.
Discliamer: I am not J.K. Rowling, nor am I claiming to be. I am not making a profit from writing this story.
June 2, 1998. Tuesday.
12:33 P.M.
Ministry Of Magic, Level Two, Wizengamot.
Five well-manicured nails repetitively came down onto a hard wooden desk, satisfying the impatience the their owner, Narcissa Malfoy. The Wizengamot had been muttering amongst themselves for twenty minutes, battling out the decision of whether or not she would walk out of this building a free woman or a shackled one. As it were, her dainty wrists were weighed down by the heavy, magic sapping manacles.
Narcissa was greatly surprised by the number of witches and wizards who came to her defense. Harry Potter and his two best friends made an appearance- them of all people. Her banished sister was there, along with quite a few of the Weasley clan. All of them made fierce points as to why she should not go to Azkaban. All of them were exaggerated, blown out of proportion to make her look like some hero of sorts. Not that she minded. She appreciated it, of course, but she couldn't understand why they were doing it.
The bang of a gavel on wood caught her attention, as everyone else's in the room. Someone, Narcissa didn't see who, patted her shoulder consolingly and she found herself exhaling. Whatever happened, she would take it with grace. She didn't marry a Malfoy because she was weak, mind you.
"Has the Wizengamot come to a conclusion?" The Minister demanded in his loud, accented voice.
"No, Minister," one of the older members said wearily, pinching the bridge of his nose, "it seems we can not come to an equal decision."
Kinsley seemed to deflate at that. He took his time in looking them all over. "We've wasted enough time here today," he began, and Narcissa couldn't help but be offended. "All in favor of dropping all charges." Out of the fifty-one members, thirty-nine raised their hands. "All opposed?" Twelve rose their hands, already knowing they'd lost.
"Narcissa Malfoy is cleared of all charges, but I insist on twenty-four months of house arrest until complete freedom- and with it, trust- is granted." Another smack of the gavel. "Dismissed."
It was obvious that Minister Shacklebolt did not want Narcissa Malfoy out of Azkaban, but he had to be fair, and the vote was fair.
Narcissa allowed a small smile as she thanked everyone who had defended her. Harry Potter shook her hand and wished her luck. Hermione Granger did the same, but was watching her without blinking, which unnerved her, though she would never admit it. The others simply nodded their acceptance. But her sister, Andromeda, engulfed her in a teary-hug.
No words were exchanged until Andromeda pulled away and said, "so when am I coming over for tea?"
December 24, 1998. Thursday.
6:47 P.M.
Malfoy Manor.
Narcissa swung open her grand front door and engulfed the trio on the porch in a warm, desperate hug.
Andromeda Tonks had re-connected with her lost sister after the trial, and they were both so thankful to have each other. Whenever Andromeda came over, she always brought Teddy and Hermione Granger along. At first, Narcissa had been wary of Hermione, but had warmed up to her after they found a common love for reading.
"Mind letting us through before you attack us, Cissy? It's rather chilly out here." Andromeda's muffled sarcastic voice was met by a girly giggle from her sister.
"Come in, come in. I've missed you three, especially baby Teddy." Narcissa was definitively happier than she had been since the name Voldemort ever graced her mind. It showed in her charmingly bubbly personality and softer face. The two woman on the porch walked through the door, cradling a nine month old little boy with hair reflecting the snow.
"Happy Christmas, Hermione, Andromeda. I've made a plethora of cookies, pies, and other goods for tonight, and you can all open your presents early!" Narcissa babbled as she bustled about taking their coats and helping Teddy take off his knitted hat, scarf and gloves.
"Are these monstrosities from Molly?" She asked, waving the offending articles of winter-wear at the two women. Hermione nodded with a sheepish smile. "Ooooh," Narcissa howled, hanging them up to dry, "by Merlin, that woman will be the death of me."
"Oh, come off it Cissy. She's been knitting for years and won't stop just because you have started." Andromeda rolled her eyes.
Lately, Molly Weasley and Narcissa have been having mum-off's, a sort of competition between them, mothering anyone who dare show up at their house. Surprisingly, Narcissa was putting up a good fight. Her knitting was just as mushily atrocious as Molly's and her meals were just as delicious.
"Blast that old geezer and her tricks. Dolling up little Teddy in her cheap wool." The Malfoy matriarch muttered, leading her guests into the comfortable and warm dining area. Teddy looked snug in his -Narcissa-knit- green sweater.
Hermione couldn't withhold her loud laughter at the muttering blonde woman. It was endearing how determined each mother was to coddle Teddy into submission. Narcissa shot her a look, but it only caused Hermione's laugh grow louder.
"Would you like some wine, Andromeda?" Narcissa asked her sister, deliberately ignoring the amused witch.
"Of course, Cissy." She replied, trying to cover her own smile of amusement. Narcissa could be so immature at times.
Hermione, recovering from her giggles, stood and followed Narcissa into the kitchen. She had some very important matters to discuss with her.
"Narcissa," Hermione began, leaning against the counter and watching the woman try to remember where the wine was; she was still adjusting to not having house elves. "You received my letter?"
The white-blonde woman nodded while checking the refrigerator for the third time.
"It's about your son…Draco." Hermione was never one to beat around the bush, and as Narcissa's grey-blue eyes narrowed onto hers, she wondered if her blunt traits would be the reason she would die. But Narcissa's gaze softened as fast as it had turned vicious, and she raised a neat brow.
"Yes, what about my son, Hermione?" Narcissa wasn't making it easy for Hermione, nor was she giving any of her thoughts away. She found the wine in a cupboard above the triple basin sink.
Hermione exhaled and decided that if blunt was the death of her, so be it. "I've picked up his case recently. I don't know much about it, really, and I was hoping you could help me understand his allegiance with Voldemort and possibly any information you have that will make working with him, and defending him, easier." Hermione saw that her sisterly-figure was shocked, and decided not to give her long to think. "I know he took the dark mark, but I want to know why. You have implied before that he didn't take it willingly?"
Narcissa still looked dazed, but seemed to come back to reality and popped the cork on the wine with a strong twist. She poured the alcohol into three glasses. "No," she shook her head, "no, he took that mark against his and my own will."
"Right, and he attempted to remove it after the war ended, before he was imprisoned?" Narcissa placed the whine bottle down firmly.
"When I entered his bedroom he was slicing at it with a dagger, so I suppose you could say he tried to remove it." Her voice was full of venom, but it wasn't aimed at Hermione. Rather, it was aimed at the so called "Dark Lord" for even creating such a mark.
Hermione winced, and exhaled. "I'm sorry, Narcissa. We've got to talk about this if I'm to help him."
"That's perfectly alright dear." Narcissa whispered. "Help me take these wine glasses out into the dining room; we'll talk out there." Hermione did just that, and handed Andromeda a glass while taking a sip of her own.
"Where should we start?" Hermione asked. Best to just let the blonde take over and tell her what she could.
The blue-eyed woman pursed her lips and thought for a short while. She opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, "Draco was never important to the Dark Lord. He only served as a water boy of sorts. It disgusted me- my son, a wealthy Malfoy, being treated like a slave." She snorted, no one said anything about it being immensely un-lady-like as she continued. "The summer before Draco's sixth year, the Dark Lord called for Lucius and I. He told us he would be assigning him a mission, though he didn't tell us what for at the time, and that if he failed, all three of us would die. Draco was to take the mark, or I would have been killed. I begged him not to take it, you know. He wouldn't listen. But I know he didn't want it."
Narcissa's voice broke on the last word, and Andromeda grabbed her hand comfortingly. She seemed to find consolation in that.
Hermione was reeling. All along, she'd known he had no choice in it, but she never actually knew what the stakes were. She thought it might have been his own life, not his parents'.
"There was only one thing I could do at that point. I couldn't get involved, so I needed someone who could. I approached Severus Snape, you know him, I presume?" Hermione ignored the tightening in her throat at his name; it was still touchy. She'd never gotten used to the idea that Snape was actually so good. Hermione nodded.
"Yes, well, I approached him. I made an Unbreakable Vow with him. He swore that he would help my Draco in any way that he could while on his mission. In the end, my decision was a good one because if Snape hadn't killed Dumbledore, Draco wouldn't have. He would have died that very night, and I am eternally thankful he didn't. I suspect Draco didn't want to, no matter what brutish things he's said about that old man, he never wanted to kill him." Narcissa exhaled. "I'm glad he didn't. To this day he has never killed anyone. He doesn't deserve that cell."
Hermione nodded, "I know." The bushy-haired girl reached across the table and patted Narcissa's other hand -the one Andromeda wasn't clutching. "I know."
Before the battle, when we were gathering to leave for Hogwarts, he begged his father and I to run away with him, and flee the country. So we could be safe. But we couldn't be sure that was the safest thing to do. We didn't know if the Dark Lord would win. If he did, we would be tracked down and murdered. So we stayed and Draco did as he was told. But at the stand-off, when everyone thought Potter was dead -besides me, of course, and maybe that oaf that was carrying him- he was going to stay on your side. The Dark Lord knew he was there though, and your father called him out before things got nasty. In the end, we left before he realized we did." Narcissa took a large sip of her wine as she finished.
Hermione did the same. She had all the right information- Draco Malfoy really had nothing against him. It was forced upon him.
Hermione gave Narcissa the biggest smile she could muster. "Your son is an innocent man and I will get him out of that grimy cell if I have to do it with my bare hands." She hoped it would be that easy.