(Hey, thanks everyone for reading this so far, those who have reviewed I really appreciate it and all feedback both negative and positive will be noted and any improvements suggested will be seriously considered. So, I need to explain something, whilst there is a lack of Hermione/Narcissa interaction so far I'm just trying to get back into the swing of writing and into the character of Narcissa (this is the first time I have attempted writing a story centred around her). I apologize that my chapters are short due to the amount of college work I am getting but I PROMISE I will write like hell over the weekend. P.S. Italics highlight a flashback or dream.)
With a flick of her wand Narcissa let herself into Malfoy Manor, stepping into the dimly lit hallway and breathing in the familiar musky smell she became accustomed to associating with her home. Home, the word itself suggested warmth and security yet for the past year that was entirely the opposite of what the Manor had been for her, ever since the Dark Lord, or Voldermort as she reminded herself to call him now had claimed her home as his own, his base to carry out his evil plans. With a deep breath Narcissa gave another flick of her wand all the wood that boarded up the windows in her home disintegrated into ashes and for the first time in months light began to filter through the windows creating fragile shapes across the floor. Despite the dust and the smell still lingering the house suddenly felt more homely, a little less dark and she herself felt a little less constricted in her own body.
20 minutes later and thanks to her own magical ability Narcissa perched on her favourite armchair in the corner of the drawing room and smiled for the first time, gone were the dark corners and dust and all that could be smelt was flowers, her home, at least on the ground floor bore no resemblance to the hovel Voldermort and his death eaters had favoured. It was amazing, Narcissa reflected, how much could change in the space of a day.
Several hours later Narcissa woke, the setting sun shining on her face, her whole body ached from the unnatural position she had fallen asleep in. For several moments she slumped perplexed until recollections of the days events began to flood into her mind, images that brought hope to her core. However she couldn't get away from the fact that she was exhausted, despite her magical status she couldn't escape from the basic human emotions: tiredness, hunger, happiness... It was still dawning on Narcissa that no one could be immortalised, not even Voldemort. It was time, she concluded, to start living. But first, she sighed, it was time to sleep.
She rose wearily to her feet and began to climb the stairs, gazing at the pictures littered on the wall, as she reached the landing she paused a sense of deja vu coming over her as her mind took her back to a night 3 months ago...
"Silence, Lucius!" came the reptilian voice, his tone one of the highest authority. "I think we all know your opinions are of little importance to me, your family is of little importance to me, I merely still permit your existence for the sake of Bellatrix, she seems to believe you and the poor excuse for son are of some use to me."
Outside the door, Narcissa paused, her body unable to move, unable to escape the fear she always felt upon hearing his voice. She knew how dangerous it was to be found in this position, she could only shudder at the punishment she was bound to receive if he found her here. But she had to, she had no choice, this was her home, her family that he was destroying.
"My lord," came the drawling voice of her husband, no longer beholding his usual air of arrogance, "I beg of you, give me another chance, I wont let you down, I gave my home to you, my son to your will, I am here only to serve you" There was an air of love and devotion to the words that he spoke, the knowledge of which made Narcissa sick to her stomach, she realised then that Lucius would put Voldermort before her and perhaps his son. It was at this moment that she finally realised, in the end, when the day come, it was Voldermort she wished to be defeated, not the Potter boy. Any hope of freedom lay in Harry and the order...
Somewhere close by an Owl began hooting, drawing Narcissa out of her twisted reverie, hurrying into the closest bedroom she found a tawny brown owl tapping impatiently upon her window. Untying the parchment from around its leg she paused in confusion not recognising either the owl or the neat scrawl of writing addressing her. A feeling of dread seeped through her; what if he wasn't dead? What if the fight wasn't over? What if he had realised her betrayal? Of course this was nonsense, if there was any possibility this may be the case, she would be dead beyond reason before any owl could reach her.
Slightly shaken by the possibility she unrolled the parchment which shaking hands:
Mrs Malfoy, it read, I feel after yesterday we need to talk. Please meet me outside The leaky cauldron tomorrow at 9pm. This is of utmost importance.
Underneath the cryptic message was a sprawling signature, the signature of Hermione Granger.