Calm before the Storm
By TeSjah
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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling and her associates.
June 7th, 1997. Malfoy Manor.
Just when you think no one on this entire ruddy earth cares a sodden sod bout you, someone is there to make a change. Though I never expected dear Professor – edit, Headmistress – McGonagall to actually set things in motion. But then again, the job is bloody well hexed, so she probably won't hear from me when the year is over.
Over a year ago, maybe even two, I received a letter from Albus Dumbledore. He had heard through the grapevines that there was something stirring at the surface of the Death Eater community. And that most likely something was going to get down that very year. Of course, he couldn't be more right.
I never dared to tell him about my knowledge. And honestly, can't you even begin to understand? My husband was –and still is- in Azkaban and my darling boy was to set up a plan that could very well kill him.
So I owled him that there was no chance in hell that I was going to leak information out to him. But then I got the strangest reply. Dear Narcissa, I understand your worries. And if it ever comes to the point that you have nowhere left to go. I heartily welcome you to safely stay at the haven you have known since you were a little girl.
Never had I thought that it would come to this point.
August 29th.
The black carriage rode up the bumpy road that lead to Hogwarts School or Witchcraft and Wizardry. From inside the carriage you could clearly see the white tomb in which the magical community had buried one of their dearest members.
Headmistress McGonagall had been waiting at the doorway for several minutes now. She had wondered when they had become so desperate to keep the school open. The number of students had dropped dramatically over the summer and many parents wouldn't even let their eleven-year-olds start school.
But she had sworn to herself that she would carry on. If only it was to honour Albus, to protect the students, to provide a home for Harry Potter. How ever would everything return to normal, if it would. Minerva always saw the best of situations, but she couldn't help being sceptical this time.
With a creaking sound the wagon came to a halt. House elves hurried past her to unload the luggage rack. One of them opened the carriage door. The passenger stepped out and readjusted her hat.
"Mrs. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said, with a false sound of merriness.
"Professor McGonagall," she replied same wise.
"Wand, please," Professor McGonagall said, holding her hand up. Narcissa grudgingly agreed and made the sound of a whining child. "I'm sure you didn't think that your stay wouldn't be bound to any rules, did you?"
"I didn't expect anything else. But I am sure you can understand that it is hard for me to willingly separate from the only thing that can protect me."
"Hogwarts will protect you. The only time you are allowed to use your wand is during class. I will recollect it in the evening and you can pick it up in the morning at my office. Understood?"
Narcissa nodded.
"Very well. I will show you your rooms and office. You are to be present at tomorrows pre-semester staff meeting. I expect you to have arranged all the required books and materials. Let me know if there is anything you want," Professor McGonagall finished.
"Sure will," Narcissa said gloomily.
The only thought crossing both women's minds was: What have I gotten myself into.
August 31st.
I very well expected that most teachers wouldn't appreciate my presence, but apparently nobody has ever heard of subtlety.
Minerva has had a hard time arranging substitutes for the upcoming year. Two people left before the end of term last year. One of them was Horace Slughorn. Therefore Minerva has asked me to represent Slytherin. What else could I do but accept.
Sandra Bones – who will be teaching Potions next year –holds a grudge against me for the murder of her sister.. While I am not to blame and nor is Lucius, due to his imprisonment.
I am not looking forward to the Sorting Ceremony. Because that would mean that I am going to meet Potter and his band of merry buggers. I did before of course, but now he is going to get all upset that I will be his teacher which will result into much chaos and inappropriate name-calling.
Good thing I am perfectly able to perform silencing spells. Could you imagine Potter whining every class about how my spouse and son ruined his perfect little existence? No thank you.
Last night of sleeping well will be tonight. Sadly.
September 1st.
Harry Potter looked around himself in awe. All the students had just arrived and seated themselves in the Great Hall. Sadly, all the students barely filled up half the room. Harry wondered what had gotten into people for extracting their children from the safest place on the earth. Well, for him it was.
He scanned the teacher's tables. It seemed like some of his old teachers had left… or fled more like it. He recognised Sandra Bones. Susan had once showed him a picture of her aunts and uncles when Amelia Bones had died.
"Nobody will tell us anything about the teachers," Hermione sighed. "Think about it: we have no Potions teacher, no Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher and no Astrology teacher. I see that Mrs. Bones will be filling in one of those spots, but what about the others. What if we don't have those classes this year? That would be devastating!"
"Shush," said Ron. "I am sure Professor McGonagall realises that we are going to need a bloody good education to perform magic against Voldemort and his lackey's." It seemed to calm Hermione down a little.
"Silence!" Professor McGonagall had stood up from her stool. "First years, gather around." About a dozen of boys and girls stood up and walked forward. For the first time in history the hat didn't sing a song. The Ceremony passed in complete silence. Gryffindor only had to welcome two new students in their midst.
"Very well." Professor McGonagall broke the uncomfortable silence. "I have some changes to announce for this year. At first: All students from the same year will be following classes together. Second: Everyone and I mean everyone will be in their dormitory's after curfew. And third, you will listen to your teacher at all times."
Harry's head shot up. "That's quite an odd warning. Aren't we supposed to do that already?"
"Supposedly, yes," replied Ron. It brought a smile to Harry's face.
"Glad everyone agrees," Professor McGonagall said, not waiting for an answer. "I—yes, Miss Granger?" She looked surprised as the young girl had raised her hand in the middle of her speech.
"Thank you, Professor. I would like to know about our classes this year. Since some teachers left, I was wondering whether we would be having them this year," she said in one breath.
"Well, Miss Granger. I was just going to introduce you to your new teachers. So I suggest that we will progress in silence and without further interruptions," she replied firmly. Hermione sat back on the bench.
"As expected, some of our staff members found that they would be safer elsewhere. It is, of course, understandable that most would like to spend time with their loved ones. Some have other reasons for their departure," she said with a sad tone in her voice. "Of course, I will proceed giving Transfiguration. Professor Sandra Bones will be teaching Potions this year. I arranged Professor Sinistra's niece Estelle Greenhouse to take over her classes this year," Professor McGonagall took a deep breath.
"Professor Dumbledore had apparently made an arrangement for the person who will be teaching you all Defence Against the Dark Arts this year. Since it is a magical contract I can not do anything other than to fulfil his wishes. I must say that she is bound to strict rules and you all have nothing to worry about. I want you three," she said pointing at Harry, Ron and Hermione, "to be perfectly civil. If you have complaints, come to my office, we will not discuss this here. Your teacher for this year will be Narcissa Malfoy."
Narcissa quietly opened the door behind the staff table and looked around the Great Hall. It was just as she remembered. Only this time students didn't clap enthusiastically and stumped their feet on the ground when a new teacher was announced.
She was pretty sure she lip-read No bloody chance in hell! from the Weasley-boy. And Potter's jaw was just hanging somewhere near his knees. It wasn't as bad as she had expected it to be.
"My office, Madam Malfoy. Eight o'clock." That was like being a student all over again.
September 1st.
Very well, I have to go see Professor McGonagall in about an hour. But first I wanted to make a quick drabble.
You see, I just received an owl from Azkaban (Snotty little birds they have, you always have to petrify them before extracting the actual letter). And it said that I could go see Lucius next Sunday at 3.00 AM. Early? I'm glad I received that letter in time and not an hour before the actual appointment.
I'm just going to owl Leah – Nott – to ask how late she has her appointment with her husband. We usually have it at the same time.
Now I have to go and have my meeting of doom.
"Please, have a seat. Would you like some tea?" asked Professor McGonagall while Ron, Harry and Hermione sat down in the chairs in front of her desk. Their glares answered her question.
There was a knock on the door and they three students turned their heads. "Hello. Sorry, I had some trouble finding your office, I never really spend time here. Thank heavens, the Bloody Baron was kind enough to show me."
"Welcome, Mrs. Malfoy. Please sit down. Tea?" McGonagall gestured to a chair next to her desk and floated a teapot their way when Narcissa nodded in approval.
"Professor McGonagall. I am really trying to understand, but… could you please let us in on why she is here?" Hermione asked, trying to restrain a burst of anger.
"She is here on Professor Dumbledore's orders. I must assure you that this was not my choice, but that I am not able to either alter or destroy the magical contract that Professor Dumbledore had set up with Mrs. Malfoy. She will be teaching you."
"But how could he do that? She bloody well was the cause that Sirius died!" Ron said, jamming his fist onto the table. It made the teacups jingle.
"I never wanted Sirius to die!" Narcissa shouted.
"Then why the hell did you help out the Death Eaters by extracting information from Kreacher? That was you, it couldn't have been somebody else."
"Well, you got me there," she said mockingly. "You wouldn't understand."
Harry, who had been sitting quietly in his seat, slowly looked up. His gaze fixating on Narcissa's face. "You now have a chance to make us understand. Use that chance," he gritted through his teeth. His expression frightened her a little; it was so empty.
"Our family isn't perfect, not in the least. But I love my husband and son, no matter what horrible things have occurred involving their presence. And then there is one man, he could take your entire family away in a heartbeat. Would you risk that for not having a useless conversation with a house elf?"
"It didn't turn out to be so useless," Hermione said.
"Don't be silly. It only confirmed what the Dark Lord… what he already knew was coming. Everything was already set, no matter if there was or wasn't an Order of the Phoenix. He's always very well prepared. I'm sure Dumbledore knew that."
"Dumbledore…" Harry muttered. "You didn't stop Draco."
"Please, if I was given the chance, I would have died for him. You honestly think that I wanted my darling boy to get into a situation that could have gotten him very well killed?"
"I bet you know where he is now," said Ron.
"Mr. Weasley, I have been through this interrogation for over twenty times, under influence of the best Occlumens who serve under the Ministry. Do you not think they would have extracted that bit of information if I knew. I may be a Death Eaters wife but I am also a mother, one who lives in uncertainty. I tell you, I rather have my son safe in Azkaban prison than out in who-knows-where and under the command of you-know-who." After she finished her tirade she tried to set her cup of tea back onto the dish. Her hands were shaking of anger and shock.
It had silenced the all other four people in the room.
"Listen. I am very well aware that you don't trust me, and you have all reason to do so. But I'm not the first person who had relations with the Dark Force and who was allowed to teach at Hogwarts. And I am sure that I won't be the last."
"What are you talking about, Mrs. Malfoy?"
Narcissa frowned. "Don't you remember? About nineteen years ago, Hogwarts hired a new Potions teacher. Rufus Weasley. He was that boy's uncle, for crying out loud," Narcissa said, pointing at Ron.
Hermione leaned over to Ron and asked him about it. Ron just shrugged and muttered about not having an uncle with that name.
"Mrs. Malfoy, I was already teaching at that time. There never was a man hired, and I certainly don't remember the name."
"This is absurd. I clearly remember him. Honestly, I'm sure. He was in my House and in the same year as Lucius. Bellatrix went steady with him for two years. I played Quidditch with him on the House team. How can you not know this?"
McGonagall laughed. "There has never been a Weasley in Slytherin, Mrs Malfoy. You must be mistaken."
Narcissa was trying her very best to convince them of her right, but it seemed that they just didn't know. The best thing for now was just to dismiss it. "Maybe I was." But she was sure she wasn't.
"You are excused," said Professor McGonagall. After the three Gryffindors had left the room, Narcissa turned to McGonagall and handed her a piece of parchment.
"You requested to read through all my mail," she said.
"Azkaban's visiting hours are still scheduled at the most impossible times, I see. Three A.M. They're out of their mind," McGonagall complained. "This is fine, you can send it."
"You get used to the times. I have been visiting my sister for years in there, horrible place. I'm glad that the Dementors are gone, the Magic law Enforcement Guard are much more sensible, and much more human. Sorry I'm rambling like this," she said, smiling. "I have to go send this now, or else Leah won't receive it in time. See you tomorrow."
September 2nd 00.15.
I owled Leah instantly, but I had other business. I owled my house elf Welb to send me my photo albums from when I was still at Hogwarts as a student. Because I know for sure that there are pictures in there featuring Rufus.
Maybe it's just McGonagall's old age. The woman is well into her seventies after all. But that wouldn't explain why that kid didn't knew a thing. And his father isn't really someone to keep his sons and daughter from interacting with his siblings. It's just plain odd. I don't know what to think.
Tomorrow is the first day of class. And I will have to go and visit Hagrid to collect some rats which I am going to need in class, because I do not trust the students to believe me that the spells we're going to be practising are harmless. We'll just see what will happen.
September 2nd.
Narcissa sat behind her desk. She was exhausted. It was two o'clock in the afternoon and she had almost taught all the required classes. "Only one class left to go," she sighed.
Chattering loud, the 7th year students filled the classroom. Gregory Goyle elbowed Ron Weasley out of the way fighting over a seat.
"Silence!" Narcissa shouted. She was glad that the students actually shut their mouths. "I am Narcissa Malfoy. I suspect the latter of you to already know me. In this class you will address to me as 'Professor Malfoy'. Understood? Swell."
Hermione raised her hand. "Euhm… Professor. I wondered whether we were going to need our books."
"Of course you are. But only when you are doing your homework. In class we will only practise spells. Which brings me to our first task." She walked up to the blackboard and wrote 'Gravo Gravitas' onto it. "Can anyone tell me what this spell does?"
Hermione's hand went up in the air again. "Yes, Miss Granger?"
"Gravo Gravitas is a magical mist. It looks quite harmless and it hovers above the ground. When a person gets trapped into the mist it reverses up and down and the person will experience a state of anti-gravity. The mist has no distinctive colour, but only powerful witches and witches can make it colourless so that it will function as a trap."
"Thank you Miss Granger. That was quite well. Have five points for your House." Narcissa couldn't hide away a smile when Weasley spoke his amazement to Potter.
"Mr. Potter." Harry's head shot up. "I believe that you have encountered this specific mist once."
"I don't recall--"
"Of course you do. Fourth year. Your last task in the Triwizard tournament. I believe it was a golden mist this time. Anything comes to mind already?"
"Yes." Narcissa raised her eyebrow, indicating that he should add something to that sentence. "Professor," he grudgingly said.
"I suggest you make sure I don't have to make you say that, Mr. Potter," she said coolly. Then she continued cheerily. "Everyone will make groups of three. And I want to see three different houses in every group," she added when she saw the obvious same House groups gathering.
"One at the time you will cast the spell. Another one will step into the mist. If the spell works, the third person will cast a 'Finite Incantatum'. Before you start," Narcissa took out her wand and Accio-ed some pillows over to each group.
At the end of the lesson only few people managed to lift their classmates of off the ground, and some didn't even manage to make a mist.
"Very well, Miss. Brown," Narcissa complimented Lavender. She had managed to lift Daphne Greengrass almost two feet. "You're almost as talented as your aunt."
Lavender frowned and let Susanna Johnson do her Finite Incantatum. "I'm sorry. I don't have an aunt. My father only has two brothers."
"Do you mind staying a while after class? I have something to ask you." Lavender nodded and Narcissa walked back to her desk.
"Listen up everyone! Stop fooling around Mr. Crabbe. For tomorrow's class I want a roll of parchment about what the most effective way you can use this spell against enemies is. Is that clear?"
The students murmured their approval. After the class was empty, Lavender approached the desk. "What exactly did you want to ask me, Professor?"
"Yes. Well. Are you sure that you don't have an aunt? Her name is Sonya, Sonya Brown. She was one of my best friends in Hogwarts."
"I am sure, Professor. My father only has two brothers named John and Desmond. I never knew about an aunt. I'm sorry."
Narcissa was biased. How could two people she had known got lost in the minds of everyone. This couldn't be a coincidence, but she had to wait until Welb owled her the albums. Or until she would see Lucius again.
September 6th
I must say that all went well in my first week of teaching. It's much harder than I expected, but I kind of makes you proud when students manage to live up to your expectations.
I can't believe Longbottom almost twirled Parkinson around in his mist.
Talking about Parkinson. She was frantically banging on my door yesterday night. Begging for me to tell where Draco is. I hesitated to open the door, because I can't stand the bloody bint, but I decided to give her five minutes of my time.
'Please, Mrs. Malfoy, you have to tell me where Draco is. You must know!'
Well, I already told everyone who asked that I haven't got a clue where my son is hiding out, so my answer wasn't any different this time.
She was rather disappointed. And furious of grief, so I had to mend my door in the middle of the night. Without a wand that is. Ruddy rule. But it sort of worked, I'm going to have a house elf check it out this afternoon.
Talking about house elves. I believe Welb could hurry a little more, I know we have an attic the size of a Muggle shopping mall, but we also have an army of house elves.
September 7th.
It's seven in the morning and the first students start to gather in the Great Hall. Among them is Hermione Granger, carrying a large leather-bound book. As soon as she sits down, a cup of tea appears. She picks it up sips it while scanning the content of the book.
Sure enough, half an hour later, Harry and Ron walk in too, rubbing the sleep out of their eyes.
"What are you doing, this early in the morning?" Harry asked her.
"Yeah," said Ron. "It's time to eat, drink and then get some more sleep. And when we wake up again, preferably in the afternoon, we start thinking about our homework. And maybe do it later on."
"This isn't homework."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "What is it then?"
"I kept thinking about what Narcissa Malfoy said, about you having an uncle," she said looking at Ron. "And a few days ago she also asked Lavender about an aunt she was supposed to have. But Lavender said she hasn't got one."
"Forget it, Hermione. She's just going mental."
"Well, I actually found some things. But I'm not sure. Every year, every House gains ten new students; five boys and five girls. It has always been that way."
"What are you trying to say, Hermione?"
"Look, it was easy to look up in which year Narcissa Malfoy attended at Hogwarts. She started her first year in 1969. But when you look here," she pointed at a diagram, "you see that only four girls were sorted into Gryffindor that year. And there are no newspaper clippings about Quidditch that year, at least not at Hogwarts."
"You're still not really making a point."
"And this 'Rufus Weasley' she was talking about. She said that he was in the same year as Lucius Malfoy. But that year too is missing a student, a male student."
"Yes?" Harry asked.
"Don't you think it's a bit odd that she mentioned two people who have miraculously been erased from all Hogwarts history. Not even relatives and teachers remember them. Something's going on here and I want to get to the bottom of this." She started packing her stuff.
"Good luck, but I'm not helping. It's probably just a mistake," Harry told her.
"I'm with Harry on this one. She's probably just making things up. I bet she just likes the attention, just like that rotten son of hers," Ron added.
"Could be. But it's not impossible for her to have a point."
Just as Hermione exited the Great Hall, Narcissa entered. She tightened the rope around the waist of her heavy dress robe and scurried nervously to the teacher's table at the end of the hall. Food appeared before her the moment she sat down, but she didn't touch a thing. She rapidly tapped her fingers on the table, waiting for the first owls to arrive. A few students were already reading letters or unwrapping gifts, so that meant that she had missed the first flight.
About ten minutes later, another peck of owls could be spotted flying towards the school. A raven black owl dropped a small, white envelope on the table. Right thereafter another letter arrived and it took three large barn owls to fly the albums in.
The letter was from Leah Nott, cancelling the appointment for that evening. It seemed that Craven had been beaten up in Azkaban and he wasn't allowed to receive any visitors for the next two weeks. She dismissed the note.
A smile graced her face, she immediately recognised the posh handwriting on the envelope. It didn't say much that she didn't already know, it was just a confirmation of their late-night appointment, but the 'yours truly' at the bottom of the text always seemed to warm her hart.
In the corner of the left was a single line: 1-5-373. Because he wanted her to know that it was written by him. She sighed and let the letter slip into the pocket of her dress robe.
Finally she reached out for the package. It had a tiny note stuck onto it. It said 'To Mistress' in a barely readable handwriting. It had to be Welb, she was the only elf they had bothered to learn how to write.
She tore the brown wrapping of off it. There they were; the three photo albums she had made during her years at Hogwarts. To assemble them, she had stolen most pictures from the boys dorm from Bellatrix' year. Because Vincent Alameda was the photographer during the beginning of her years. Later on, she had made most pictures herself.
She murmured something to herself and started flipping through the second album. It contained pictures of her third and fourth year. Halfway through there was an empty page, or for so it seemed.
"Mr. Weasley," she said loud enough to make Ron choke on his scrambled eggs.
"Yes?" he asked while coughing.
"Would you be so kind to perform a Revelation Charm on this page," she said, pointing down at her album.
"Not to be rude, but why don't you perform it yourself, madam?" Harry asked, trying to be as polite as his anger towards her allowed him.
"Because I'm not allowed to carry a wand outside my Defence classroom. Now, come on Mr. Weasley, you're a seventh year, I'm sure you're capable to do so. Nothing funny is going to appear."
Ron rolled his eyes at Harry, but stood up and walked to the teacher's tables. "Revelio," he muttered and flicked his wand the right way. For a moment he thought that nothing was going to happen, but then a picture appeared showing about fifteen Hogwarts students waving and smiling. Above the photo a text read: Pmrtsgh lu Dzokfitrh.
"Shouldn't that have revealed itself too?" Harry had sneaked up to Ron and Narcissa and had gotten curious.
"That, Mr. Potter, can only be revealed by the Possessor or by a member," Narcissa explained.
"Death Eaters."
"No, not Death Eaters. We were only kids, none of us were into such serious business. Well, most of us weren't," she said with a note of sadness in her voice. "This was just a club we started."
"But there are future Death Eaters in here. Rodolphus Lestrange, Bellatrix Lestrange, that lad next to her got killed last year during the assault at Hogwarts and that has to be Crabbe's dad," Harry said, pointing at a fat boy in the corner of the photo.
"And that is Lucius Malfoy, only his hair is much shorter. And I'm sure that this man fired a curse at Luna when we were under attack at the Ministry. So why can't we assume all these people are Death Eater?"
"Peter Pettigrew was befriended with your father, why can't we just assume he was actually a Death Eater too?" she asked, corking an eyebrow. "You can't just go around accusing people of alliances with the Dark Side, Mr. Potter."
"Do you see this red-headed boy on the left, Mr. Weasley?" she asked.
"No."
"Excuse me?"
"There's no one there, it's an empty space."
"Don't be silly, there's…" she stopped mid-sentence, like she suddenly realised something. "I'm sorry, I have to go," she said. Her eyes focusing on something distant. She gathered her stuff in her arms and walked away, leaving the two boys behind.
"I told you she was losing her mind," said Ron.
"I think we are going to have to show Hermione something," Harry said, holding a piece op paper out in his hand that read: Pmrtsgh lu Dzokfitrh.
To Be Continued.