Chapter 2

It had been easy enough to poison Severus with veritaserum; he never ate or drank when he was out of Hogwarts or, presumably, in the privacy of his own home, but he had been unprepared for Narcissa to suddenly turn her perfume diffuser on him, and he sat with glazed eyes.

Narcissa absently bound him.

"Nothing personal, Severus, but you're very good, and I don't want to take any chances when the effects wear off," she said, conversationally. "A mother's paranoia, you might say. I need to know; do you wholeheartedly support the dark lord?"

"… n…no…" it was wrung from him.

"Do you support Dumbledore?"

"Y… y…. yes."

"You might change your mind on that when I've finished," said Narcissa, grimly. "Severus, you were abused as a child, weren't you? You came back with fresh bruises every term."

"My father," he said, dully.

"So. If you support Dumbledore, you believe in the protection of the Boy Who Lived, correct?"

"I am at Hogwarts for Lily's boy. He should have been mine."

Well, that was interesting.

"So you would not be happy that the muggle relatives he was placed with have hit him, locked him in a cupboard, starved him…"

Severus managed to struggle to his feet, with the chair he was bound to.

"I'll effing KILL Petunia Evans!" he screamed.

"Sit down, Severus, I think someone else might manage that first, if it all goes to plan," said Narcissa. "And if you've managed to throw off the potion, I'll tell you my plans."

Severus glowered at her. Really he was quite sexy when he did that, thought Narcissa. Much more so than her cold fish of a husband. Hmm. Interesting. She ignored that stray and irrelevant thought, and smiled at him.

"And what about Dumbledore?" she asked.

"I'm sure he didn't know," said Severus, stiffly, fighting off the potion. He had not received a full dose.

"Really? Are you totally sure?" asked Narcissa, sceptically. "He's a manipulator. He may not know in detail, but you can be pretty sure he expects the boy to be treated less well than the whale and consort's rubber ball of a son."

"He had no choice."

"He had the choice of my sister Andromeda," said Narcissa, crisply. "And he had the choice of insisting on a trial for my cousin Sirius, at which it would have been discovered that it was Peter Pettigrew who was the secret keeper who betrayed the Potters."

"What? But Wormtail is dead!"

"Wrong. He faked it. I don't know where he is, but Lucius knew all about it."

"Black deserves Azkaban; he tried to kill me when we were sixteen."

"That might be a handicap when I come to have him released. I will require you both to put aside your antipathy. For what Dumbledore would call 'the greater good' and what I call expediency to suit my plans to keep my own son out of the grip of the Death Eaters. And if you are with Dumbledore, you might be interested in my researches to try to remove the dark mark."

His eyes were hungry.

"He'll want me to spy again though. You are talking as though you want to escape."

"I do. Voldemort is insane, crazy like a fox, several knuts short of a galleon, put it however you choose. And I have no intention of sacrificing Draco to the cause of anyone, even a pure blood, which I'm pretty sure he is not. Do you really want to spy again, and put up with the dark one's entertainments?"

Severus flushed.

"No, but I will have no choice."

"You will, if instead of isolated, bullied, cowed and robbed of self worth the chosen one is trained by old magics, in a place where underage magic is overlooked, and taught from the first by a loving mother that he has a destiny to protect, and that he can succeed."

"A mother's love?"

"Mother love is ruthless and powerful, Severus."

"My mother didn't love me. And I knew. If you purpose to steal the child away, for one thing he will be found, and for another, it will be apparent to him that it is Draco you love … Merlin's bedsocks, Narcissa, you already have him?"

"My little Orion… and he is mine, too, Severus. I didn't mean to love him like I love Draco, but I do… he is my baby too, but if he has to face that fishy bastard, I mean to make sure he has every measure at his disposal to do so successfully. And that does not include the machinations of that political creature at Hogwarts. Look inside yourself! How did he get you to turn? You were as committed as any of the other idiots!"

Severus blinked.

If there was anything that was needed to convince him that Narcissa was on the level about opposing Voldemort it was the scorn and despite in her voice in calling the Death Eaters idiots. Anyone faking might be expected to condemn them as evil, but not as idiots.

"I'm listening," he said.

Half an hour later, Severus was moderately convinced that he had been played like a fish by a master manipulator who could have given Tom Riddle lessons in callous puppet mastery. He still thought that Dumbledore was better than the alternative, but the thought that a little honesty might have been nice did leave a long ridge of resentment in his thoughts.

"I want to legilimens you, Narcissa, about the Dursleys," he said. "I don't think you are a better occlumens than I am a legilimens."

"I am not but I'd like to learn more," said Narcissa.

Severus searched her memory, and choked at the stench of blood and urine and faeces in the cupboard. And at Lily's eyes in the darkness.

"What do you need?" he asked.

"Help with rituals to remove the dark mark; it might also get rid of Orion's scar," said Narcissa. "I think we need a parselmouth."

"Well that could be a problem," said Severus, dryly. "I don't know of any beside Riddle himself."

Narcissa slumped.

"Then we shall have to look," she said.

Meanwhile, Orion Malfoy had met his brother Draco, who had been ready to protest competition for attention except that his mummy had cuddled him and made him understand that Orion had always been his brother and was there to look after him and love him and protect him.

Orion was happy to have a brother to love, one who wasn't twice his size and about to fight him. It had only taken a few days and the special magic that had been Lily Evans' legacy of love before the brothers were doing everything together, and even sleeping holding hands.

And with the tender care of the house elves, and potions they and Narcissa prepared, Orion was growing to be a more normal size for a three year old boy.

Draco did all the talking. But Orion loved his new brother and when Draco considered having a tantrum, Orion said 'no' very quietly. And then they would go and watch Papa, dancing through the garden giggling.

Nobody missed Harry Potter for a while. Arabella Figg was watching for him, but she knew that Petunia did not take him out with her fat lump of a son, and assumed that he was left at home so that the scar did not attract notice, and that Petunia was being over-protective.

She did take a card for both the boys on their shared birthday, and was confused when Petunia asked blankly "Who's Harry?"

This was worrying, and Arabella Figg hurried home to report to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore himself turned up, and the Dursleys were obliviated a second time, to forget his visit when he discovered that all memory of Harry and his parents had been painstakingly removed. Petunia remembered only grieving for a sister who had died when she was eleven. It had been meticulously done, and Dumbledore metaphorically raised his hat to a master.

But of the boy there was no sign, and no clue as to the obliviator, since it was not the work of any Death Eater Dumbledore recognised, being too subtle, and without brute force.

Dumbledore concluded that Harry Potter was in the hands of the Ministry, taken by the orders of someone in the Ministry for his own political ends. And without proof, he could not move on this, but he could start plans to bring down the government, something he would never have considered doing had not the fate of one small boy been so vital.

One small boy was learning to be happy, allowed to eat all he wanted, within

reason, given toys, treats, and clothes that fit him. Spanked occasionally by his elven nurse, but never hit hard, and never told off for making sparks come out of his fingers. Indeed when he first did this, and cowered, his new mummy had picked him up and kissed him, and told him what a clever boy he was.

He had been in trouble for putting new daddy's feet on backwards when Lucius swatted at Draco, but the spanking was almost a love pat. Narcissa had giggled almost as much as the boys.