Chapter 12: Narcissa's Desperation.
The darkness was absolute in the Malfoy manner house. A chilling cold fill the halls and a sense of dread fill all the empty spaces. Narcissa couldn't bring herself to light the lamps or even a fire in her own bed room. She had dismissed all of the house staff since the night she had killed her husband and had fallen into a dark mourning, not for Lucius but for Draco. There was still no word on the whereabouts of her only son, nor had any word come from the Dark Lord, since he last left her. She wasted away into the darkness and despair, of the night, as she sat in the tall backed arm chair, in a corner of her bed room, and waited. She felt more alone then she had every been. She shivered in her night gown but couldn't bring herself to climb into bed, believing that she would never feel warmth again. Voices played in her mind, not those of the people she cared about but strange unknown voices cursing her for the ways she was and all of the things she was getting ready to do.
The thunder rolled outside the cold black house. It was a tall, proud, old house, off on a hill, away from the village and no one dared go near it. The once wealthy family that had lived there had left, with the strange change in the weather, or that was what the villagers remembered. The doors and windows were almost all boarded up. Some of the glass, in the upper most windows, was shattered. Dark curtains hung, closed in the upper most levels of the house. The garden had become over grown and untended. Not even the wild animals dared go near the empty house.
Narcissa looked out the shadowed window, of her bed room and remembered brighter days in the dark life she had been so proud of. There was nothing left of it now, but to follow the orders of her new master.
A flash of green filled her bed room. She squinted into the now blazing fire and shivered not from cold but from a fear the grabbed her.
"Snape is a traitor," a hooded man said as he stepped out of the fireplace and into the bed room.
"How can this be?" Narcissa whispered as tears and horror filled her eyes, "he promised me, he couldn't have broken the vow."
"What, exactly, did he promise you?" the hooded figure asked stepping closer to her.
"He promised," she sobbed.
"Woman, tell me his exact words!" the hooded man grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her so violently she screamed for fear, as he vision went cloudy.
"He promised to protect my son at any cost and to help him succeed," she cried.
The hooded figure released her by throwing her back into the arm chair. He pulled back the hood from his grey, snake like face, his red eyes glowing angrily, "he is no longer one of us," Voldemort said as he paced in from of the bed.
"How is that possible," she asked weakly, "no one can escape you."
"Dumbledore has wiped him clean," Voldemort hissed, "even in death he plagues me."
Narcissa grew even more confused as she watched him, "I don't understand," she said softly.
"I don't expect you to," he hissed, "its ancient magic, something many modern wizards tend to over look," he said as he rubbed his bald, grey, head with his sharp boney fingers, "it must have happened during the passing of power. Either ways, my child, he has betrayed both you and I. My men are searching the hills near Hogsmeade in hopes of locating Draco. He did not return to Hogwarts as Snape did."
Narcissa gasped at this news. Tears welled up in her eyes once more, as she gasped for air. She felt as though her lungs would no longer take in oxygen, "do...do you think he's...he's..." she couldn't bring herself to finish.
"Dead?" Voldemort asked with a bit of a laugh, "not likely, I can still feel his power and connection. We'll find him."
"Oh thank you," she cried and fell to her knees before him.
"Get up!" he hissed angrily and with a flick of his wand he forced her off the ground and back into the chair, "I can't stand this weakness. You are lucky, if I didn't have plans for you, if you weren't so very important to my plans I wouldn't be so tolerant."
Narcissa became very quiet as she shivered with fear and cold, sitting in her own house, filled from head to toe with dread, as the most powerful wizard in all the world before her. Here she sat, in nothing more than a night gown as the man paced before her, his red eyes hungry for something. She felt as through the room were growing smaller with every pass he made and a prang of guilt rose up within her. Even in her sadness and fear all she wanted was to be of service to this man, in what ever she may be able to do.
The silence between them lasted for a very long time. She didn't dare move while he was still present.
Suddenly the fire flared again and the grate was crammed, full, with two additional hooded people and a large bundle between them. Narcissa stared as the two figures forced their way out of the fire place and laid the ash covered bundle on the bed.
"Cissy, we've found him," Bellatrix said as she removed the hood from around her face.
"Well done Bella," Voldemort said as he moved to the bed and pulled the black cloak away from the ashy bundle.
Draco Malfoy lay, unconscious, on his mothered bed. As white as death and looking slimmer than he had ever been before, he did not move. His chest neither rose nor fell with breath. His limbs were stiff and like stone. His hair was matted and dirty, the clothing he was wearing were the remains of his Hogwarts school robes.
"My boy," Narcissa cried as she recognized the body and the condition, "you said he wasn't dead," she screamed as Bellatrix held her back.
"He's not, yet, dead," Voldemort hissed, "but had we not found him, he may not have lived."
"What is wrong with him," she sobbed as she viewed the nearly skeletal form of her son.
"Enchanted sleep," the other hooded figure said pulling the fabric away from its head. Fenrir Greyback's sick yellow eyes looked through the darkness at her.
"Well wake him," she cried as she turned back to Voldemort, "you are the most powerful of all wizards, wake him! Make him right!"
"Silence Woman!" Voldemort yelled, anger in his eyes, "how dare you give me an order."
Narcissa fell silent once more, great rivers of tears flowing down her face.
"Pity we're facing one of the best potioneers in all wizardry," Voldemort said not looking at the body, "you'll have to work very hard to revive him. You may never find the proper antidote to whatever Snape has given him."
Narcissa let out another great sob.
"Let that be your punishment for ever disobeying me," Voldemort said then turned to Bellatrix, "Bella, you are to remain with Narcissa until the boy is revived or until he succumbs to his illnesses. You'll not leave this place until I summon you, both of you," he said looking again at Narcissa.
The fire died away from the grate as Voldemort and Greyback left the cold house. Bellatrix stared at her shivering sister who lay sobbing on the bed beside her son, "you're wasting time, Cissy," she said as she walked toward the door, "I assume you've got at least a stock of ingredients to make a revival antidote, don't you."
"You heard the Dark Lord, its probably impossible," Narcissa sobbed.
"You'd give up so easily," Bellatrix asked looking questioningly at her sister, "it is a place to start."
"I've only got what is left," Narcissa cried.
"Which isn't much, judging by the looks of this place," Bellatrix sighed and with a wave of her want the shattered glass in the bedroom window was mended and the fire blazed hot in the grate, "pull yourself together and I will go to the kitchen and start. Make the child comfortable and then join me. We have nothing else to do but wait for our next set of orders," she said and left the room.
Narcissa stared at the crackling fire for a moment and then to the lifeless figure of her son. A sudden hatred grew within her as she lunged for the bedside table and pulled from it her wand. With a flick and a wave the room was restored to its glory of rich velvet drapes, shining hardwood floors and reminders of the great wealth and luxury she had gained by her marriage into a wealthy family. With another wave of her wand her night gown disappeared and her rich wizarding robes wrapped themselves around her slim figure. Her hair entwined itself around a beautiful serpent clip and a chain of pearls wrapped itself around her neck. She looked stately, proud and angry all at once. Her cold, but beautiful eyes fell lovingly on the figure of her son. Taking a deep breath she waved her wand and his clothing and the filth left him. He was clothed now in dark green silk pajamas and laid in the large, four poster, bed, "rest well, my child," she said as walked over and drew this down filled duvet up to his chin, "I'll avenge you, if it is the last thing I live to do." And as she walked from the room the spell was lifted from the house. The windows and doors were hole and open again. The spaces for living were cleaned and the gardens were well kept. The villagers would be non the wiser in the morning but would fear the house and its occupants even more than they had.
Narcissa walked slowly through the halls of the house and soon found her way to the kitchen her eyes ablaze with new determination and desperation for revenge and to please the Dark Lord. Bellatrix bent quietly over a cauldron that sat in the middle of the great stone kitchen a purple mist rising from the simmering contents
"You've found what you need?" Narcissa asked as she paced before the cauldron.
"The bare minimum," Bellatrix answered and looked up. She was stunned by the change in her sisters appearance, it was almost a frightening sight to behold her now.
"The house elves know to bring with them all that is needed," Narcissa said as she headed for the door once again, "they'll return in the morning as they have already been summoned, for now I will comb the library for some clues at to what we need to do," she said and turned away from her old grubby looking sister.
"Cissy, we'll save him," Bellatrix whispered to her sisters back.
"We had better, I will not seem weaker than I already am," Narcissa hissed and left the room.