Author's Note

Okay...new chapter is taking a shift to someone else...the lovely Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy! FYI, I made up her middle name, using a name in her family (a constellation name).

Let's see...what else do you need to know...er...this chapter explains what the Malfoys have been up to for the last ten years...kinda, sorta. And...I've given them some family members whom you may or may not meet later...probably will. Again, the family tree available upon request (thought it's constantly changing).

So...warnings...implied sexual activity within...and one F-bomb. Sorry. *grin*

Word Count: 3,947

Narcissa Cassiopeia Malfoy (23 August, 2008)

Narcissa Cassiopeia Malfoy stared at the letter she'd received by owl just moments ago; it was from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Surprised, because she'd truly not expected a response—and because she'd not received one letter from the school addressed to herself since the summer before her final year at the school, 1972—she dropped onto one of her two favorite settees, which was situated near the center of her own private room, an oval, rosewood table between them—and quickly opened the yellowish envelope.

Dear Mrs. Malfoy,

After careful consideration, we are pleased to inform you that your

application for employment at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and

Wizardry has been accepted; we would be most pleased to have

you on our staff. Unfortunately, we are unable to offer the position

of your choice (Potions), as that position is currently being taught

by Madeline Vance. However, after looking over your own school

records, it has come to our attention that, along with most other

subjects, you excelled at Defense Against the Dark Arts. Thus, if

you are willing to take on that position, the job is yours.

Further, should you choose to join our staff, we would also request

that you take over as Head of Slytherin House.

Please respond by owl forthwith, as we need to know if we should

continue our search.

Yours sincerely,
Professor M. McGonagall
Headmistress at HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

P.S. Should you choose to accept the position, we will require your

immediate presence. As the new school year begins in just nine days,

and because it has been many years since you have been here (aside

from your short visit in 1998), we would like to get you situated.

Please expect to arrive on Monday morning.

Smiling nervously, her blue eyes twinkling for the first time in a very long time, Narcissa pushed at a non-existent fallen strand of long blonde hair and read the letter again—and then again for good measure—then gracefully rose, crossed the room to her rosewood ladies desk. Sitting, she rolled it open, pulled out some parchment and reached for her quill and ink, then proceeded to respond to the headmistress' letter. Finishing it quickly, she reread it, then folded it and slipped it into a new envelope, sealed it, and held it out to the waiting owl—who promptly took it and flew off.

Narcissa watched the owl until it was out of sight—and then she frowned, bit her lip, and glanced at her closed door. Now she'd have to tell her family what she'd done and she knew it wasn't going to go over well. Things at Malfoy Manor had been rough since the war. Granted, they'd not been sent to Azkaban—thank Merlin—as they fully deserved, but that didn't mean they weren't prisoners. They were tried and released—if you could call it that. There were many conditions. Lucius was on house arrest for the first five years—not that it mattered; the man was completely broken—she'd received three years, and Draco one; his sentence split and postponed so that he could attend his seventh year at Hogwarts—much to his chagrin, that was a condition of his "freedom"—but he'd been made to finish serving his time after completing school.

Narcissa remembered well the time they'd spent trapped inside the massive walls of their own property—which, to be honest, they'd been lucky not to lose altogether. It had only started with the trial and sentencing. Being on house arrest entailed many things; first and foremost that they did not leave their property for any reason—and they'd all been required to wear matching detention bracelets to ensure that they did not; second, their vast bank accounts at Gringotts were temporarily frozen and investigated; third, their home was subjected to extremely thorough searches; fourth, though visitors were allowed, any number over three had to be formally requested and approved, in writing, before the gathering could take place; and finally, they were removed from the Floo Network—just in case—making communication by owl their only means of contacting anyone outside their home.

The bracelets, which were normally of a non-distinct charcoal gray color, could be charmed to do any number of things. First, they had an Anti-Disapparation Jinx on them, making it so both Apparation and Disappartion, either in and around the house or off the property, was impossible. Second, the bracelets made it so that any physical attempt to leave the property—by any means—caused them to feel extremely ill—once such attempt had landed her husband in bed for a week, a mediwitch from St. Mungo's at his side and an Auror stationed just outside the bedroom door. And third, the bracelets completely prevented the use of magic, so they'd been forced to do everything for themselves—for the most part...they still had their house-elves.

The freezing of their accounts at Gringotts, however, was less bothersome than one might imagine. For one thing, they had their Galleons spread all over the world, in accounts the Wizengamot had no authority to touch, so they weren't all that worried. But they also kept large sums within their home, which, strangely enough, the Wizengamot didn't seem to care about. And frankly, Narcissa wondered, what were they to do with all their money when they couldn't even go anywhere to spend it? And the freeze was only temporary. As soon as the investigation had concluded—with no adverse effects—and the raids on Malfoy Manor had been completed, they'd been given full access to all accounts at Gringotts.

The raids were a different story. For weeks the manor was filled with Aurors, and other magical law enforcement, everyone searching for anything that might be dark and illegal. Lucius had followed them around whining about how they were disturbing all his precious heirlooms and artifacts, and other such nonsense, while she'd just remained in their sleeping quarters, ignoring those searching as best as she could—they'd left her personal space an absolute disaster and still she'd not complained. And, as far as she could tell, Draco had tried to follow her lead. It was hard to know exactly what was going on with her son though, because he'd mostly kept to himself—it was something she fretted over.

As for visitors, they'd not had many. Most of the people with whom they'd previously associated were either dead or in Azkaban, leaving them virtually no one—though there were the precious few. In the beginning, Lucius had a few business-related visits—which Narcissa could only hope were on the up and up, since he'd insisted that she not be present—and later a visit here and there from his two elderly aunts, Amulara and Adora, sisters of Abraxas Malfoy, and even a few visits from cousins—whom she didn't care for— that Lucius not spoken of in years.

She herself had been less lucky. During the time she'd sat at her husband's side, supporting his every decision, she'd managed to alienate almost every person she knew—even the wives of the former Death Eaters had ignored all invitations she'd sent, causing her to be quite lonely. She did have Lucius' aunts as company—occasionally—but it was not enough. And then she'd received an owl from her sister, Andromeda. Andromeda, who looked nearly identical to their dead sister, Bellatrix, was still furious and had refused to come see her, but Narcissa lived for her owls—which came every Sunday, just like clockwork—giving Narcissa hope that someday they'd be able to sit in the same room again, like sisters should.

Draco, on the other hand, had the largest number of guests, as he'd managed to retain a few friends from school. Some of them had lost a parent. Some of them had a parent in Azkaban. And some of them had parents suffering fates similar to their own. Narcissa thought they all seemed to be pulling together and gathering strength wherever they could—and that was a good thing. But, after Draco's year of house arrest, he disappeared for a time. He'd spent his year completely ignoring both of his parents, and then he was gone—to where Narcissa didn't know—turning up again in December of 2005 with a newly pregnant wife.

Part of Narcissa was furious with her son for leaving her alone with her husband, though logically she knew it was not Draco's fault and that Lucius was not his responsibility. But that didn't stop her from harboring some resentment. Lucius could often be heard talking to people who were not there—sometimes even the Dark Lord. This worried her greatly, but it also frustrated her to no end. It was he who'd gotten them into this mess in the first place and yet he was choosing to escape, if only mentally.

But she didn't complain.

And then came her grandson, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, an adorable—almost exact replica of Draco—and she loved him beyond measure.

And so did Lucius. In fact, when the boy was born, Lucius' eyes lit up again. After almost eight years of near-comatose behavior, the man seemed to be back—though not one hundred percent.

But Narcissa was still feeling resentful—she resented the fact that her son had checked out physically, while Lucius had done so mentally, and she wanted out. Not out of the marriage, per se—she still deeply loved her insane husband—just out for a while; out long enough to clear her head. And that's why she'd applied to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Actually, it had been at Andromeda's suggestion. Narcissa and her sister still had not met in person in the years since Narcissa's house arrest, but the frequency of their letters had increased significantly, and that gave Narcissa at least some pleasure—and hope for the future.

But now she needed to tell her family that she was leaving, though not permanently, and she was terrified.

Dressing for their evening meal, Narcissa left her private rooms for the dining room.

XxXxXxX

"Mother," Draco said, rising as Narcissa entered the room. "We would have waited, but we didn't think you'd be joining us this evening."

After glancing at her husband at the table's head—he'd not gotten up—Narcissa gave her son a tight smile, then floated to her usual place and lowered herself into her chair. "That's quite all right, Draco, I was just responding to an owl."

Sitting again, Draco nodded, then picked up a bottle of elf-made wine and filled his mother's glass. "Aunt Andromeda?"

"Mmm," was all Narcissa could manage without out and out lying. Her son had never said so, but she knew he was glad that she'd been communicating with Andromeda. Though it was slow in going—the reconnect between sisters—she was setting an example that showed her son that he too could get over the past. And he was...slowly.

"Mother?"

Blinking, Narcissa sighed. Then she decided to get it over with. "I have...an announcement to make," she said.

At this, everyone at the table, including Lucius, gave her their full attention.

"I've taken a position at Hogwarts," she said—then continued quickly. "Headmistress McGonagall has offered me Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I have accepted."

Everyone just stared—and then Lucius snorted.

"Without even discussing it with me, Narcissa?" he asked disdainfully. "That's not very becoming."

"And I'm to be the Head of Slytherin House," she went on without responding to her husband's question or ridiculous comment.

"You can't be serious!" Lucius burst. "You should have asked me first."

Narcissa frowned, then reached for her wine glass, took a sip—then a gulp—then nodded. "I'm quite serious, Lucius. And...since when do I have to ask to do what I want? Do you fancy yourself taking over where the Dark Lord left off?" she spat—then cringed, knowing she'd gone too far.

Lucius blanched at this—and then he frowned. "I am the lord of this manor, Narcissa, and your husband," he ground out with obvious frustration. "I should not have to hear about this after the fact. You should have at least mentioned it privately," he whispered, his eyes going to their son and his wife as if he'd just realized they were still there.

She too glanced at her son and daughter-in-law—Draco was listening intently, but Astoria looked as if she wanted to flee—then her blue eyes went back to her husband. "I only just found out. They needed to know right away, so I owled before coming down for supper. And, I'm bored here, Lucius. So bored and...lonely."

The man frowned again. "You are not alone here."

Narcissa snorted. "No, but...I have no idea where my husband's head is most of the time," she said. "And when was the last time we shared a bed?"

His eyes flashing angrily, Lucius looked as if he'd been slapped, then he stood up and left the room—and everyone watched him go.

Blushing, Narcissa looked down at her plate.

After several minutes of shocked silence—hearing talk of his parent's marriage bed was...disturbing, to say the least—Draco asked, "Do you think this was the best time to do that, Mother?"

Narcissa narrowed her eyes. "And when would be a better time, Draco? I'm tired of this! It's been ten years since the Dark Lord's defeat and we're still wallowing in despair. The first five years following, I could understand, but...this is too much. I'm done!" Pushing back her chair, Narcissa stood up; she wasn't hungry.

Draco frowned. "But...Hogwarts, Mother?" he asked, rising as well. "How could you even think about going there?"

Narcissa frowned, then shrugged. "Where else do you expect me to go? Grimmald Place? As if Potter would have me," she said, her blue eyes rolling.

"It's your family home, Mother, not Potter's!" Draco growled angrily, wishing Potter's name hadn't come up—even ten years later it was painful.

Narcissa shook her head. "No, it was Sirius' parent's home...Potter's godfather's home. Much as he was hated by his parents, Sirius inherited it and it went to Potter when he died. I have no right to go there."

Draco clenched his jaw, then said, "What about Aunt Andromeda's?"

Narcissa sighed. "We have yet to actually speak in person, dear, do you really think she'd have me?"

Draco frowned. "She might."

"Besides, it was Andromeda's suggestion...that I...get out for a while...that I spend some time at Hogwarts."

"What...what about me? What about us?" Draco corrected himself with a gesture at himself and then Astoria. "You're just going to leave us here alone with Father?"

"I won't be gone forever," Narcissa whispered.

"No, just for the next ten months!" Draco snapped. "Leaving us to deal with him!"

"And...where were you for over five years when I needed you, Draco?" Narcissa asked her son, her blue eyes filling with tears. "I was here alone with your father, which means, as you well know, that I was completely alone. Do you have any idea what that was like?"

His gray eyes narrowing as pain spread over his face, Draco gave the slightest of nods. "I do, but...I needed to leave, Mother. I was...so angry with you and Father." He shook his head. "I...I didn't know what I was capable of. I had to go."

Narcissa nodded. "It was devastating, Draco. It hurt so much, and I'm so glad that you are finally home. But, I do understand your need to leave," she said. "And I need you to understand that I need that now too. It's just temporary."

Feeling Astoria's hand snake in to his, Draco glanced down at his wife. She still looked scared, but she nodded to let him know that she understood and to tell him that she would be supportive. And because she did that, Draco nodded too. "I do understand, Mother, and, though I don't like it, I will accept it."

"I will as well, Narcissa," Astoria said. "We will miss you. Scorpius will miss you."

Narcissa's heart clenched at the thought of not seeing her grandson on a daily basis, but squared her narrow shoulders and tried to be strong—she needed this. Pursing her lips, she struggled to blink back the tears burning in her eyes, then blinked, allowing them to fall. Then smiling, she circling the table to hug both her son and his wife. "Thank you," she whispered, then went to find her husband.

XxXxXxX

Narcissa sped through the manor, going straight to the room she knew she'd find her husband—the study that used to be his own father's—and sure enough, he was there. Sitting behind a massive desk, a bottle of Firewhiskey in hand, the man took a large swig—and not from a glass.

"Don't do this to yourself, Lucius," she begged from the doorway.

Before looking at her, the man took another gulp. "Why shouldn't I, Narcissa? Give me one good reason to not lose myself in this bottle and I'll put it down."

Narcissa frowned. "I'm taking the job, Lucius," she said flatly.

"Just like that?" he snarled with a snap of his fingers. "You're leaving me?"

"I'm not leaving you," she whispered, inching into the room and closing the door.

"Could have fooled me," he mumbled, the bottle at his lips again.

"I've been stuck at the manor for years," she said with a frustrated shake of her head. "I'm going stir-crazy!"

Lucius' head snapped up. "Are you saying that I make you crazy?"

Rolling her eyes, Narcissa thought it very like him to turn it around. "I'm not saying that, darling. I love you, but—"

"There's always a but, isn't there?" he interrupted.

Narcissa sighed. "Why are you acting like you care? For years you've been in your own little world and I've been left to my own devices. I need to get out of here for a while," she said, throwing her arms up in the air.

Standing, Lucius circled his desk and went to her. "Stay."

Narcissa shook her head. "I can't."

Then, doing something he'd not done in Narcissa couldn't remember how long, Lucius slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her to his chest—it was as hard and unrelenting as ever it had been.

"Stay," he whispered, his soft lips at her ear.

Closing her eyes, Narcissa allowed herself to melt against her husband. They'd always been good at this, but it was...too little too late. "I can't, Lucius."

"Can't...or won't?"

"Either one. You choose," she said, expecting him to drop his loving act and snarl nastily at her. He didn't. Instead, he only held her tighter. "Besides, I've already sent word that I'm taking the position. McGonagall will be expecting me."

Nodding, Lucius started nibbling up and down the slender column of her neck, his fingers drawing circles on her back. "I've been a horrible husband, Narcissa...I know that and I'm so sorry," he said, shifting to rain kisses on her upturned face. Slowly, he pulled a hand from her back and produced his wand, so that he could ward the door against entry and put a silencing spell on the room, then he smiled slyly down at his wife, ground himself up against her, and maneuvered her over to his desk where he promptly lifted her up and plopped her back down on top of it.

Shocked, Narcissa let out an undignified squeal, her eyes going wide—Lucius hadn't so much as kissed her in years, let alone made love to her, and now he wanted to do it in his study, on his desk. She was further surprised when his lips slammed down on hers, reminding her of days long-past when they'd quite literally used ever square inch of Malfoy Manor for their games.

Closing her eyes, Narcissa kissed him back with equal fervor, then said, "This changes nothing, Lucius. I'm still going."

He nodded. "Fine then," he said before banishing her clothing.

"That's not at all fair, husband!" she snapped. "How am I to respond in a like manner now that you've magicked my wand away?"

"I guess you will have to be creative," Lucius answered. "Do you remember when we used to do that, Narcissa?"

Grinning, Narcissa grabbed his tailored shirt, then, in one swift move, yanked it open—causing twelve tiny buttons to go flying about. "Creative enough for you, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked.

Smirking, Lucius leaned around his wife, pushed everything from his desk, sending it all crashing to the ground—the Firewhisky bottle and glass shattering—then eased her backward. "I always did like your style, Mrs. Malfoy."

XxXxXxX

"They've been in there for hours," Draco complained to his wife as he paced in their private suite of rooms. "What do you suppose they're doing in Father's study?"

Astoria glanced up from the latest copy of Witches Weekly with a grin. "What do you think they're doing?"

Draco frowned. "No. Uh-ah. Impossible! They don't even talk, let alone..."

"You said yourself there's a silencing charm on the door," Astoria pointed out. "Though, I am surprised at your voyeuristic tendencies."

He stopped pacing. "Ahh...can you say, Slytherin?"

Astoria chuckled—then she said, "They're fucking, Draco...get over it!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Nice language."

Astoria snorted, but ignored her husband's snootiness—plus, she knew he liked it when she talked dirty. Closing her magazine, she stood up. "Isn't it a good thing if they can get some of their old passion back?" she asked as she went to him. "You always told me they loved deeply. This is wonderful."

Draco nodded. "Yes," he whispered. "They didn't like to display it openly, but...sometimes, when they didn't know I was there, they'd...become quite amorous."

"You're such a voyeur," Astoria teased as she kissed her husband's jaw—and then his lips.

Kissing her back, Draco almost became distracted—then he remembered that his mother was leaving. "But, how's this going to work when she's gone?"

Astoria rolled her eyes. "She's not dying, Draco. She'll just be at Hogwarts for a while. Maybe the separation will give him a reason to...get better." She shrugged. "You mother's right about one thing; she needs this. And honestly, I think your father does too. He's not had a reason to recover...now he'll be forced to."

Draco frowned for several minutes as he considered his wife's words. "I think you might be right. But...so much is going to fall to your hands, Astoria...are you sure you don't mind?"

Astoria shrugged. "Families pull together in a crisis, Draco, and...though I'd be lying if I said I wasn't fearful, I can handle it."

Smiling, Draco leaned down and kissed his wife tenderly. "How did I get so lucky?"

Astoria shrugged. "I really couldn't say, but...you did."

Kissing her again, Draco whispered, "Thank you."

"You're very much welcome, my dear," she said. "Now, stop worrying about what those parents of yours are doing and take me to bed."

XxXxXxX

Straightening her clothing—that he's unbanished—Narcissa took a few deep breaths, then turned toward the door. "Are you coming to bed, Lucius?" she asked. "I'm definitely not finished with you."

Lucius growled lustily as he followed her. "I hope we don't run into Draco in the halls," he mumbled as he held his buttonless shirt closed and glanced at his wife's disheveled appearance.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, darling, are you a wizard or what? Just repair it." Then, with a smirk, she said, "Oh, and please do repair that shirt...I very much enjoyed ripping it open."

Post Script

Just wanted to thank everyone who's reading...I can tell by the "story traffic" that I have a lot of readers...and I'm thrilled that you're giving my silly fic a go!