Disclaimer: You know the drill, I don't own the wizarding world or any of JK's amazing characters (with their rockin' names, minus the epilogue of the 7th book, but that's another story). I do, however, own Chester :)
Read, Review, & Enjoy!
"Love is not blind, it sees more than less. And, because it sees more, it is willing to see less."
Narcissa Malfoy had aged considerably, that was not what surprised people. What amazed them, rather, was how beautiful and elegant she still was. The young reporter sat in the redecorated parlor of the Malfoy Manor, eager for the interview Narcissa had deprived the public of for thirty years since the war had ended. However, at Narcissa's request, the reporter was not here to ask questions, just simply to listen. He studied her intently. Her jaw was strong, her hands delicate. She had her share of wrinkles, but there was a youthful twinkle still lingering in her eyes. Her long white hair was plated down her back, wispy bits that had come loose framing her face. Sitting tall in dark emerald robes, she was the epitome of a strong, graceful woman who successfully used everything she had come up against to better herself. In short, the reporter—along with the rest of the world—was simply amazed by her.
Narcissa raised the teacup to her mouth with a frail hand and an unwavering demeanor. She had it safely placed back on the table before she sat back and put her longing blue eyes on the reporter, who shifted under her gaze.
"What was your name?" she asked in her sweet, commanding voice.
"Chester Granger, ma'am," he said nervously, sitting up straighter and trying to appear professional.
"Granger?" she asked raising one thin eyebrow.
"Yes, ma'am, my mother is Hermione Granger," he answered politely.
"Well, that explains how you reminded me of someone else," she said sitting back up eerily now. "I believe you remember our arrangement, Mr. Granger?" Her eyes locked on him, studying him wordlessly.
"Yes, Mrs. Malfoy, I do."
Slowly she leaned back again and settled into her chair, her fingers lacing together on her lap. "I tell you what I wish for you and the world to know and that's all you get." She paused, allowing him to argue. When it was evident he understood the situation, she sighed. "Well, then, I might as well start. Most people, Mr. Granger, regard my husband as vile and corrupt—a monster, if you will."
He hesitated with his quill to the paper. "Do you want me to write all of this down, Mrs. Malfoy?" he asked, afraid she might be angry if he published something she had accidently let slip.
"If you wouldn't write it and sign it, Mr. Granger, why say it?"
"Yes ma'am," he responded, leaning back in his chair.
"Now, I'm not going to tell you my husband was a good man at heart, because he truly wasn't, so it'd be a lie. My husband made a lot of mistakes, Mr. Granger; mistakes we all paid for." Narcissa waited until he met her eyes before adding, "Lucius wouldn't have pulled out if he could have, believe me when I say that."
"Are you saying that your husband enjoyed what he did, Mrs. Malfoy?" Chester Granger asked, halting his scribbling quill.
"I'm saying that while my husband might not be a monster, he was indeed a Death Eater at heart. People often ask me what kind of spell he had on me or what kind of threats he made to make me stay with him; did you know that?" A small smile graced her lips as though the thought were amusingly absurd.
"No, I didn't," Chester replied.
"My husband never did anything to make me stay with him; if you would be so kind as to make sure that stays on the record. I stayed with Lucius Malfoy because I chose to, of my own free will, in full use of my mind."
"May I ask why, ma'am?" he asked, leaning forward, his notes forgotten. It didn't matter; this was a conversation he couldn't possibly forget.
"You can," she said smiling. "You see, you can't choose who you fall in love with. It's one of those things that you don't determine, much like your parentage or your name. Once you fall in love with someone, you can't fall out of it, Mr. Granger. In Hogwarts, I won't tell you that Lucius was a completely different man, because that would be another lie; but he was less corrupt and evil, if you will. In his younger years, he was more a pretentious, egotistical boy than a sadistic demon. Regardless, I loved that man, who he was then, and who he was the moment he died. To me, he was always the same person, no matter how much he changed." She pursed her lips for a moment, deep in thought. Then, a hollowness filled her eyes and a sad smile possessed her lips. "I'm not sure, Mr. Granger, if Lucius ever loved me, though he did tell me once—shortly before he became a Death Eater. You see, as Lucius got deeper into the Dark Arts he closed himself off from any emotion, especially love, if he ever did really love me. It is the only way, really, that one can survive the sort of work Lucius did for You-Know-Who, without going crazy.
"That one time that he told me…I held onto that. Some people, who don't quite understand it, call those in love fools. And perhaps we are." She sat up again now. "But, you see, there's a certain security we have that they never will."
"And what is that?" her companion asked.
Her blue orbs scanned his, searching him as if she were trying to look into his soul. "The fact that if the love is real, it never goes away, even if the person does. I wish I could tell you better reasons for why I stayed with Lucius Malfoy, but I can't; because there is only one, and that is that I was simply in love. Being in love is something that not only overpowers all other emotions, but also all reasonable thinking. And perhaps, someday, you will better understand what I'm talking about. Or perhaps," she said raising an eyebrow at the man, "you already do."
Chester shifted in his seat and cleared his throat. "May I ask you one question, Mrs. Malfoy?"
"You may, but I can't say I'll answer it," she said, examining his grey eyes keenly.
"What do you think about your son's involvement with You-Know-Who?"
Narcissa reflected for a moment before giving a small nod that she would answer. "It's true that we grow up one way, and we have beliefs that are instilled into our heads. It is not true, however, Mr. Granger, that we can't choose our own paths in life. Draco did grow up learning how to endure pain, how to hate, and how to make people fear him. What he chose in life, though, was his own doing. I guess I could put partial blame on myself for what happened to him, but I won't. Sometimes, Mr. Granger, we have to do something wrong in order to truly do something right, wouldn't you agree?"
"I wouldn't know, Mrs. Malfoy," he said, standing and collecting his things. He reached out and took her delicate hand, bringing it to his lips. "Thank you for the interview."
"Thank you for listening to me." She watched him, amused, as he hastened to get out of the room and away from her inquiring eyes. When he was almost out the door she said softly, just loud enough for him to hear, "Say hello to your father for me." The young man turned around and poked his head back in the door, his eyes laden with surprise, his face pale.
"You look very much like him," she told him nonchalantly, smiling at his confusion.
"How do you…?"
"Honestly, Mr. Granger, you think I don't know my own son that well? Draco may have made mistakes, but something I always taught him, that even Lucius couldn't beat out of him, was that you can always fix them." Narcissa gave him a soft smile, her eyes glossy with memories. "Tell him I'm proud of him. I haven't seen him in thirty years, but I bet he's just as handsome as ever."
Chester rustled his shaggy brown hair, a small grin on his face. "My father is quite handsome, Mrs. Malfoy. You would be proud of how far he's come since he was released from Azkaban."
"Like I said, Chester Granger, you can't help who you fall in love with. My son, no matter what he was taught, is no exception to love. Perhaps you do already understand my decision to stay with Lucius?" she asked, turning back to look at him curiously.
He met her gaze and nodded resolutely. "Yes, ma'am, I think I'm beginning to."
Author's Note: Something I stumbled upon that I wrote decades ago. I really like it (despite my strong beliefs against love) and decided to gussy it up and publish it for your viewing pleasure. After all, I write to entertain, so for it to sit in a folder on my computer is really moot isn't it? Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed. If you did (or even if you didn't), I hope you'll leave me a little message, for I do love them so. Some days, receiving a review is the only good thing that happens to me.
Oh, and I hope you enjoyed the quote, it is one of my favorites :)