A/N: I did a little bit of thinking on how I should approach this story, and it finally did--in the form of Narcissa Malfoy. So, to those of you who have read the other chapters and reviewed, just stay put 'cause those will be back, but with more details. Happy reading! )

A/N: Upon rereading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, an idea struck me. I believe it's been stabbed at before but I haven't read any fan-fictions of the sort. So, I can only hope that you'll find my version unique. On a further note, I have researched as much as I could; therefore, if you think there are any mistakes, feel free to raise the issue and correct me.

Disclaimer: Any familiar characters, settings and plot do not belong to me.

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Narcissa's Memories

It was a warm night in June, yet the traveler wore a cloak that covered the top of his head and the rest of his body. His lips formed into a tight smile as he looked at the somewhat derelict manor. At last, after several years of researching and waiting, he's finally close to his goal: to extract as much information from his neglectful relatives, who abandoned him to suffer. They will pay of course, he thought contentedly, them and those who were also responsible for his life's worth of pain. His knuckles whitened as he balled his fists. He heaved a sigh, relaxing for a second. Then, with the air of someone that needs to complete an important mission, he walked across the street, banged the gate open with a flick of his wand and entered the Malfoy domain.

Colorful peacocks lingered around the cemented pathway. One by one, the unknown trespasser blasted them off dead; the on and off green light confirming it. On he walked; his pace becoming quicker by the second. Finally, he reached the front double doors. He was about to blast it open, when he decided against it. Surely he has more self-control than this? Solely due to habit, he sighed once again and knocked.

A light flickered on inside. Through the rippled side windowpane, he could see the distorted silhouette of a tall woman.

"Yes?" she asked curiously, slightly opening the door. It was almost midnight. She didn't have late-night callers for almost a score.

She gasped the moment the man stepped out of the shadows and met her gaze. "How d-d-did you f-f-find me?" she stammered, widening the door uncertainly.

He smiled inwardly, observing the apparent surprise in her voice and fear in her eyes. "Narcissa Black Malfoy?" he inquired quietly, though already knowing the answer.

"Yes," she answered almost breathlessly. She stepped aside and ushered him in.

Almost there, he told himself, savoring time as it passed by. He made a small bow and walked into the candlelit foyer. At once, he took in every detail he could see; it didn't impress him whatsoever. It gave off a foreboding feeling. Shadow covered what must have been a collection of expensive paintings and memorable portraits. The wall coverings were peeled off haphazardly, exposing wood every now and then. What has happened to the Malfoys? Even in the American wizarding world, they were infamous for their affiliation with the Dark Lord. And now, it seemed like the occupants in the house had stopped living, stripped off of their powers, their identity. The very thought made him want to punish those wizards and witches responsible for this.

Narcissa had noticed the up and down, side to side movement of his eyes. "They took everything from us," she commented. "The mudblood Granger was ready to make negotiations though." She glided serenely, leading him to the kitchen.

While still intent on his mission, curiosity got the better of him. "What negotiations?" he asked, catching up with her host. He didn't have to ask who the mudblood was. In fact, he's very familiar with her history and reputation. He'll deal with her later.

"When they took our valuables and gold during my husband's arrest, she asked the Minister of Magic for 'another chance'," she replied, nostrils flaring, chest heaving up and down. "She dare take pity of me and my family!" she exclaimed blithely.

Narcissa and her visitor finally arrived in the gloomy kitchen. It was even worse. Cobwebs were dangling from pots and pans, spoiled leftovers sat on the table and counters, used plates, glasses and utensils lay on the sink, waiting to be cleaned.

He raised an eyebrow. Surely she can clean and repair all of these with a flick of her wand? He was about to do her a favor, when she put a hand on his arm.

"Don't." Narcissa took a deep breath. "So many things has happened since you were born, and even before that, now… the Malfoy name is one of the most disgraced wizarding pureblood family there is. I'm under house arrest, though I'd rather be with Lucius. I can't use magic anymore. I haven't been able to since the Second War."

Anger rushed through his veins and boiled inside him. He was all for the purification of wizarding blood. He has studied all of these under very fine teachers in America. And to come to his mother country and witness all these revolting revolutions, it was all too much for him. He needed to do something about it. A new purpose settled in; he can't wait to act on it.

Silently, he occupied a chair, while Narcissa busied herself with preparing tea.

Once she finished, she brought it and a couple of cups over to the table and sat down. Quietly, she poured for them both, deep in thought.

"I assume that you already know," she declared straightforwardly.

"I read it on the Wizarding International Press," he told her.

"Why didn't you come earlier?"

"I couldn't. I was busy…with other things," came the reply.

"Work?"

"You could call it that," he acknowledged dismissively.

Narcissa took another breath. Shakily she sipped from her cup. "So, why now? If people knew, if they knew, they would undoubtedly take you."

"I want to know everything. And you know everything," he said quietly, looking straight into her eyes.

She didn't even see it coming. A spell hit her chest making her immobile. Another one made her flash back to all the memories from almost fifty years past. On the third curse, there was a blinding flash of green light. His host fell down from her chair and remained limp on the floor.

A/N: What do you think so far? Please read & review. )