Author's Note: I apologize for my absence.
Narcissa Malfoy had never been to the Headmaster's office before – not for discipline, nor on merit. During her time as a student, Albus Dumbledore had been Professor of Transfiguration before his appointment to Headmaster; admittedly, he had been an excellent instructor: meticulous and thorough, but also kind, giving all his students equal, dedicated attention, ensuring they understood the principles as well as the practice.
The door opened with a gush of cool air as the Headmaster entered. With an involuntary tightness in her stomach, Narcissa rose to her feet – out of formal respect, waiting until the old Wizard beckoned her to sit once more.
"Forgive the wait, Narcissa," he said, taking off his cap and setting it on a stand next to his desk. Before taking his seat, the Headmaster walked to a blackboard where he picked up a stubble of chalk. "Let's have some tea, shall we?" He wrote out a menu of more than just tea, including macarons – a French confection Narcissa was admittedly fond of. When he was done, he replaced the chalk on the ledge, and the entire board was magically wiped clean. "It'll be along shortly," said the Headmaster, finally taking his seat. "But in the meantime, may I offer you a piece of gum?" From one of his drawers, he retrieved a box containing a surprising quantity of multi-coloured spheres, each larger than a grape; they appeared to be coated in sugar.
"Er, no, thank you," replied Narcissa, politely. She watched as the Headmaster picked a bright yellow piece and popped it into his mouth. Almost instantly, he began choking.
"Aargh!" he cried, his face scrunching up in reaction.
"Are you all right, Professor?" she asked, rising from her seat with alarm. Tears were starting to form in the old man's eyes. If he died now, Narcissa would easily be marked his killer. 'A set up!' she thought to herself as the Headmaster made a gagging noise. 'I've been framed!'
But even as she thought this, Dumbledore gave the candy a few hearty chews and relaxed. "I'm quite all right," he said at last. "These are sour candies – 'Tear Jerkers', they're called," he explained with a slight smile – followed by a grimace. "Aptly named, I might note," he wheezed.
Just as his menu request had magically disappeared, a tray laden with food suddenly and magically appeared, and Narcissa found herself pouring the Headmaster a cup of tea, after insisting he spit out the gum. He complied, though somewhat grudgingly. "There are but a few matters I would like to discuss with you today," said Narcissa, regaining her composure. "First is the current living arrangements for my son and myself."
"Are things not well with Andromeda?" Dumbledore inquired.
"It is not a matter of things being 'well', Headmaster, but had I known that she and her husband were sympathizers of your Order of the Phoenix, I would have chosen a more suitable refuge."
The Headmaster peered at Narcissa over the rim of his teacup. "Perhaps, if you extended your definition of 'family' to include your sister, you might have learned, beforehand, that your niece is an Auror."
Narcissa was about to argue that working for the Ministry meant little – she knew how deep the corruption and betrayal ran – but on second thought, the Aurors had ever been against Dark Wizards, near infallibly so; she recalled of the First Wizarding War, how many Aurors were affiliated with the Order of the Phoenix then as well. The Headmaster was right, she should have known better, but she wasn't about to admit to it.
"You may feel that I am safe with Andromeda," she continued, "but you should not presume that I have no alternative places of hiding, where both Draco and I would be equally safe – perhaps even safer."
The Headmaster took a slow drink of tea before carefully replacing his cup. "I assure you, Narcissa, that you are safer with Andromeda and Ted – and the only place you could be safer still, is here at Hogwarts, with your son. Anywhere else you and Lucius have fashioned a safe haven would be discovered by your other sister, and I don't believe she would extend to you the same standard of hospitality."
Narcissa didn't necessarily disagree with the Headmaster – Draco had told her everything that had transpired at the Department of Mysteries that evening – but still she pressed her lips together and spoke in defense of her other sister. "Bellatrix would never harm me – or Draco," she added, though she wasn't entirely sure. According to her son, Bellatrix had tried to kill him.
Professor Dumbledore stared at Narcissa a long while before speaking. "It was not loyalty that drove Lucius to Voldemort's side the night of his return," he said. "And it was not devotion that inspired him to lead that particular mission at the Ministry. But rather fear."
Narcissa stiffened. "Are you calling my husband a coward?"
"Certainly not," Dumbledore replied with the smallest of smiles. "Lucius Malfoy has never been the type to place himself in the path of danger. But, for the sake of those we are loyal and devoted to – for fear of what may happen to those whom we love, a man or woman may do anything. I suspect, after rejoining the Death Eaters upon Voldemort's return, Lucius's exuberance turned to fear for your family and for Draco's future. He took a calculated risk that night, Narcissa, and whether or not Lucius would count it successful, your family is safe, and that is something – something you should not seek to undo."
"If it is by my husband's courage that we are safe," said Narcissa, "then should it not be my decision, as Draco's mother, how best to protect him?" She pressed her hands against the wood of the desk, leaning forward. "It is not up to the school who should look after my son."
"And what has Draco told you in his letters?"
"That he misses home," answered Narcissa.
Dumbledore's expression did not change. "And of his hosts?"
Narcissa held the Headmaster's gaze. "My son misses his home," she repeated firmly.
For a moment, no one moved, but eventually, the Headmaster sighed, rolling his eyes imperceptibly. He picked a biscuit from the tray. "Malfoy Manor has been appropriated by Death Eaters," he informed her. "They have selected it to be one of their bases of operation."
This was news to Narcissa. "What?" she said, though she had heard the Headmaster's words clearly. She felt a bubble of indignation rising inside her. "How? There are wards and charms, ancient spells bound by blood and sacrifice." But even as she said it she knew: the pure blood circle was small; in their ignorance and arrogance, they would have used similar if not the same spells of protection. She suppressed a shudder of rage as she thought of the intruders tracking mud through her home, using the crystal from her dowry, and resting their feet on the furniture. But a deeper anger burned against her sister; if Death Eaters had taken Malfoy Manor, Bellatrix had surely led the way. She took a moment – and a deep breath – to compose herself. "At least allow me my wand, and a visit to the bank, so that I may provide my son the standard of living he is accustomed to," she said next, moving on. There was no need for further elaboration; she knew the Headmaster knew her situation.
"I have no authority over the –"
"Do you not still hold a seat on the Wizengamot?"
"Once the court has ruled, the other departments are responsible in enforcing the minor details of the proceedings, such as matters of finance and estate."
"Can you not make an exception?"
"It is not up to me to grant exceptions –"
"Well, could you ask a favour then? Surely you must have some influence over –"
"Narcissa." The Headmaster had not raised his voice, but his tone commanded uninterrupted silence. Narcissa sat back in her seat quietly, feeling very much like a child again. "I have one very simple solution that will address all your concerns."
When Narcissa's meeting with the Headmaster was concluded, her own niece was on hand to escort her.
"You do know what he is, don't you?" she said to the young witch as they walked through the corridor. Professor Dumbledore had agreed to allow Narcissa a short, monitored visit with her son before departing, and upon passing the stone gargoyle, she had seen them together. "He tutored Draco for a summer; he's brilliant, but all werewolves are dangerous, and not to be trusted. And they certainly aren't creatures you should be romantic with."
"Used, but not trusted, and definitely not marriage material. Excellent advice," Nymphadora replied, bobbing her head. She glanced back with a sideways sort of smile. "I am eternally grateful for that bit of wisdom."
Narcissa sniffed scornfully. "Your grandmother would turn in her grave if she knew."
"Which grandmum? 'Cause dad's mum thinks he's rather charming – but you see, Remus gets along rather well with old people; I'm not entirely sure why." The younger witch slowed her step until she matched Narcissa's regal stride. "And my mum's been to your mum's grave; delivered the message herself." She smiled. "I wonder if she did roll over."
"You have no respect for tradition."
"Bigotry isn't considered tradition, Auntie Ciss," said Nymphadora, picking up her pace once more. "And if you keep walking like you've a stick up your arse, you'll miss out on seeing your son."
When Narcissa told Draco what Nymphadora had said to her, he laughed. "Draco, that is not funny," she chided him. "It's rude and disrespectful."
"Dora's a lovely person, really. She just gets very defensive when … well, I can't say I blame her; I get the same way when the chaps called Hermione anything less than a proper witch. They don't anymore, mind you; they know better."
Narcissa wanted to gnaw on her lip, but settled for pressing them tightly together. "Is that right," she murmured as she smoothed out the skirt of her dress. She didn't dare think what her mother would say about her own son's choice for a girlfriend. But, she wasn't about to waste what precious little time she had with him, talking about petty things, like his non-pure blood witch friend. "So, your marks are good, and I'm so proud of you, sweetheart!"
"Mother, I know why you've come to Hogwarts, and I've been thinking about it, and perhaps your being at Aunt Andromeda's really is for the best."
Narcissa's smile faltered. "Draco… I thought you missed home."
"I do, but things aren't the same as before – plus the mansion's been overrun by Death Eaters. And you know what they're looking for – and when they don't find it, they're going to be furious – He's going to be furious. Dad wants us to be safe, and The Order –"
"Draco, stop. Stop talking about these things! You're starting sound like your father, and you're only a boy."
"Mum, I'm going to be seventeen, I'm not –"
"You are still a child," Narcissa asserted, her smile disappearing altogether. "You are my child, and I'll not have you worrying about these sort of things." She reached across and brushed back her son's hair; it was still short, but starting to look a bit more like it used to.
"Mum," Draco said slowly, looking at her very seriously. "Your attempt to shelter me is not the same as protecting me. And there are some things that I have to decide for myself."
They spent the remainder of their time discussing inconsequential matters, and with every change of subject, Narcissa wished she'd had her wand so she could peer into her son's mind to see what he wasn't telling her. When their time was up, Draco left after giving her a tight hug; he seemed taller than she remembered, though she couldn't be sure, as she always thought of him as just a little boy.
She was returned to the Tonks's residence via Port Key.
"What would the Ministry think, if they found out you were using illegal Port Keys," she said to her niece as the younger witch set the wicker basket they had used to transport on fire. Nymphadora didn't respond, but her eyes twinkled in the light of the flickering flames, and her hair colour changed from bright red to a gradient of neon pink.
"Mum! Dad! We're back," she shouted, tossing her cloak on a stand before making her way to the kitchen. Down the hall, Narcissa's brother-in-law, Edward "Ted" Tonks, peeked around the corner.
"Welcome back," he said cheerfully, as his daughter gave him a big kiss on the cheek. He glanced back at Narcissa. "Well. You look like you could use a drink. Come on, and I'll pour you a glass of wine." He beckoned to her quickly before disappearing back into the kitchen. Chatter and laughter drifted over Narcissa as she took a moment to lean against the wall. Things had not gone at all how she'd intended. Slowly, she ambled into the kitchen. As much as she wanted to be alone, she wanted that drink more.
"And here we go," Ted said, placing the glass on the table in front of Narcissa. She barely looked at it before tipping it back into her mouth. "And, uh, here we go again," mused Ted, refilling her glass.
"Things not go your way, Cissy?" queried her sister. Despite the mockery in her tone, Andromeda wrapped one hand around Narcissa's arm, squeezing it in a loving manner.
"At least you got to see Draco," noted Nymphadora. She was reading the Daily Prophet while eating a piece of cake – both things floating in the air before her. With a flick of her wand, the page turned. "Umm, should we be concerned that the entire Hatton family is missing?" She flicked her wand several times more, turning the same few pages back and forth. "And why is this on page six?" Andromeda leaned over her daughter's shoulder, peering at the article.
"Oh, I think that's us," she said, giving Nymphadora a reassuring pat.
"Think?" the young witch repeated skeptically. She studied the article again before closing the paper; it dropped to the table. "Why haven't I heard anything on it?"
"You're busy with a lot of things, Dory," explained her mother. "You can't know everything. Plus, you know, if someone gets caught, they –"
"Yeah, yeah," cut off Nymphadora, finishing her cake. She pushed back from the table, kissed both her parents, and left the room.
Her mother glanced at the dirty plate, still hanging in the air. "She's a bloody Auror but she can't even put her own dishes away." Ted picked up the paper, eyes glancing over the titles on the front. "So, Cissy, I take it you'll be staying with us a while longer then?"
Narcissa helped herself to more wine. "Well, Annie, I haven't much choice now, have I?" She lifted the glass to her lips and paused. "Actually, there is an alternative." She met her sister's eyes a moment. "The Headmaster offered me a job." Ted peered over the paper, looking surprised. "He said it was a simple solution to all my problems – or something like that." The room fell silent save the rustling of the newspaper.
"It seems a sensible suggestion," commented Ted, turning a page. "If you've an offer of employment, I can take a look at it for you if you'd like."
"I'm not entirely sure a … Muggle lawyer could be helpful in this situation." She caught Andromeda's slightly arched eyebrow. "But, thank you," Narcissa added.
"Are you going to accept?" asked Andromeda, taking a seat at the table. "You would see Draco more, you'd be paid, and –" she smiled, "you'll be well protected."
"More protection I haven't asked for," quipped Narcissa. She smiled sarcastically. "Lovely."
"What would you be teaching?" asked Ted.
To her own surprise, Narcissa's smile softened. "The Headmaster has said, my favourite subject."
