Chapter 13: Two Inductions

The sun kept teasing Narcissa in how it would near the horizon, just about set, and then rise again. Narcissa made a nightly habit in watching it, for surely the end of the midnight sun couldn't be long now. Wesley joined her in her nightly watch.

The water lapped up on Narcissa's toes as they sat together on the island's southern beach. "I want to say tonight's the night."

Wesley chuckled. "And it has to go all the way down to count?"

"Well, that's a sunset, right? It has to set."

The longer Bella and the Dark Lord were gone, the more Narcissa eased into the rhythm of this place. It didn't hurt that Wesley ended up spending more time there than away. He only really left when he needed to, and it pleased Narcissa when he returned with more food each time in order to prolong his stay. She knew he didn't much care for this place, so it meant even more that he would tolerate it just to keep her company.

Wesley kept looking back at the forest line, where Narcissa was certain that woman watched them from. She seemed fascinated with Narcissa. She followed Narcissa around, and kept her company when Wesley was gone. Had Bella not made it clear she and the woman were at odds, Narcissa would've suspected she was some kind of spy, or that she might hold Narcissa back if she ever tried to escape.

Narcissa's heart skipped a little when the top of the sun disappeared below the horizon. "Look."

"Well there you go," Wesley said. "Time is moving here again."

He was hardly joking, from Narcissa's perspective. Two months of living under constant sunlight put the entire world at a standstill. Just as quickly as Narcissa's heart lit up with happiness, it weighed back down.

"It's going to be no time at all before it's dark all the time," she replied. "I'm not looking forward to that. I hope I'm out of here by then, but I sincerely doubt I will be."

"Hard to say."

Narcissa nodded. She also wished Wesley had more information, but that was out of both their control. He wasn't her gaoler. Wesley had been asked to do a job on behalf of the Dark Lord, and Narcissa was lucky he went above and beyond that duty.

"I guess it's not all bad," Narcissa said. "I miss everyone, but you'd tell me, right, if something was going wrong with Draco?"

"Are you sure you'd want me to?" Wesley asked. "You wouldn't be able to help him. I think Draco is capable of taking care of himself, anyway. I'm also pretty sure Theo would mention if Draco and Dagmar split up."

"Probably." Narcissa paused. "So you haven't heard anything, then?"

Wesley shook his head. "Nothing."

That was probably by design, Narcissa figured. Still, so long as Draco wasn't suffering or lonely, then Narcissa could feel at ease. The magenta sky blurred in her vision regardless, and it wasn't until Narcissa let out the smallest sniffle that Wesley noticed.

"Aw, don't cry," he told her.

"I just miss the kids," Narcissa replied while wiping one eye with the side of her finger. "Don't mind me."

She regretted making things awkward with it, was all. Wesley sat quietly beside her, maybe unsure what to do other than let her get it out. It boiled up often enough that Narcissa didn't have very many tears to shed before she levelled off again.

"You think of Dagmar like that?" Wesley asked her.

"Well. . ." Narcissa shrugged. "She's with my only child. I wish I had more time to get to know her, but last summer I wanted to give her and Draco space as they settled in with each other. I was planning on spending more time with her after they finished at Hogwarts."

"I get it." Wesley nodded. "It's hard not to look at Daphne like that, almost like she's my own. When Theo loves her so much too, and they start talking about kids and a wedding, she's certainly some kind of family."

"Mhm." Narcissa dug her toes into the sand again. "I told Dagmar on her last birthday that she was the closest thing to a daughter I would ever have. She seemed touched."

"I guess now she wouldn't have much else for parents, not that it's as sad when she's of-age."

"Still." Narcissa thought about that once in a while too. "I'm sure she misses her mum and dad. It was terrible for both of them to go so suddenly like that."

"Hildegard's not dead, though."

"No, but you know what Azkaban is like. Hildegard might as well be gone. Dagmar probably won't see her again."

"Hard to say."

Maybe Wesley couldn't give her any concrete answers since he was just as much in the dark, but it also meant Narcissa wasn't alone in uncertainty. Out of habit from her years with Lucius, Narcissa reached over to briefly squeeze Wesley's arm. She'd retracted her touch before Wesley really had a chance to react.

"You and Lucius never thought about having more kids after Draco?" Wesley asked.

"We thought about it."

Wesley just nodded, leaving it at that.

"What about you and Deidra?" Narcissa asked.

Wesley waved his hand, humming. "We honestly probably shouldn't have even had one. She was never well enough, and having Theo left her weak. It also made her happy, so there's that."

Narcissa only ever saw that part of Deidra. Deidra had been ill before Theo, but from Narcissa's perspective, having him seemed to perk her up. Maybe, like with Narcissa's failures to carry a second pregnancy to term, it was all about face. If Narcissa knew Deidra was having problems, she may have found a kindred soul in the matter.

"That's good," Narcissa said. "You must miss her."

"Yeah. . ." Wesley's voice grew quieter. "She was. . .yeah. Sometimes I feel lucky I knew to expect it, but at the same time, there were years of dread. She'd decline, and you'd wonder if this was it. Then she'd be better for a while, but you wondered if next time would be the last. I think I would've rather been able to enjoy what time we did have fully."

"I understand that."

It'd been five years now since Deidra passed. In ways it felt like it should be longer than that, since time had both dragged and flown in the meantime. It didn't make Narcissa very confident that how she'd spent the last year of her life was temporary. One year without seeing her son could easily turn into two, then three, and then keep ticking on from there. Wesley's circumstances were a little more permanent, though. Narcissa could at least be grateful she had hope of reunion to keep her going.

The horizon started to brighten again. As the sun came back up, the waters grew almost difficult to look at. Narcissa's eyelids were growing heavy anyway.

"Should we head back?" she asked.

"Yeah, might as well." Wesley got up with a grunt. "I'd like to try for some sleep while it's still semi-dark out."

Wesley lit his wand at the trail mouth, and his gaze darted everywhere as they headed in. Foliage brushed behind them as the woman followed. Wesley stopped at the sound of a branch snapping and turned around. His wand light washed over dark trees. A glimmer of white appeared beside one of them before the woman ducked out of view.

"What is that?" Wesley asked, staring hard. "I never get a good look."

"She looks like a woman, but Bella says she's not. I think she just means she isn't human." Narcissa rested a hand on Wesley's back to encourage him on forward. "I don't know what she's called."

"Weird," Wesley commented under his breath. "I'd like to say I'm getting used to this place, but I don't know. It even feels different coming and going because of the fog."

"What fog?"

"You don't see it?"

Narcissa shook her head. "No. . .all I see is sky, and then some mountains off east."

"I can't see the mountains through the fog, but there are mountains over there."

"This place has always looked different for me. I think Bella sees the same thing that I do. I'm not sure about the Dark Lord."

"Wonder why," Wesley said.

"Couldn't tell you. So long as you're not in danger, I guess it's just a thing."

"I'll stick with you, just to be on the safe side."

"You would anyway, wouldn't you?" Narcissa asked.

Her smile lingered after she and Wesley shared one. It took the edge off for him as well, allowing him to focus as he navigated them back to the house. He sighed in relief when they reached it. The centre of the island was still dark with the sun down so low. Wesley extinguished his wand after lighting the torches inside.

He headed up the stairs in front of Narcissa. She followed him as far as the bathroom, so that she could properly get ready for bed. Wesley had been kind enough to bring her some toiletries, and it had made a big difference in Narcissa's level of comfort. It had taken a lot of floss and Whitening Tonic to undo what months of going without brushing her teeth had done. Narcissa would never again take such a simple routine for granted.

Wesley waited out on the landing for his turn, leaned against the railing. "Night."

Narcissa hesitated, but took a step on toward her room with his prompt. "See you in the morning."

When she laid down on her bed, Narcissa could hear thumping and rustling on the other side of the wall, as if the bathroom was right adjacent to her. There still remained a stretch of house between the bathroom and Narcissa's room, but the lack of concrete spatial dimension within the house didn't faze Narcissa anymore.

Narcissa tossed for a little while, but it was useless to try and drift off. She got back up. As she snuck along the landing, she felt like a creep as she listened for any sign Wesley was in the same boat. She couldn't hear any sign of sleep, like light snoring or steady breath. Testing it, she gently knocked.

Wesley rustled inside. "Yeah?"

"It's just me." Narcissa leaned against the frame. "You're still awake?"

More rustling was followed by a creak and padded footsteps. Narcissa stood up straighter as Wesley opened the door.

"Can't sleep?" he asked.

Narcissa shook her head. "Fancy a shag?"

How Narcissa managed to sound so casual, she had no idea. Her heart pounded as she waited for an answer, although she felt some kind of personal power at Wesley's reaction. He blinked. The lines of his face seemed to deepen.

"Er," he finally managed, "sure."

Relief to have not been turned down drew a grin out of Narcissa. Wesley mirrored her, snorting slightly from the same anxiety. Narcissa slipped a hand into Wesley's before the still air between them could turn awkward. He seemed uncertain, but Narcissa didn't let him stew on it for too long before she guided him back into his room.

With the door closed and bare twilight illuminating their silhouettes, Wesley found the confidence to bring her closer. Narcissa rubbed his upper arms and shoulders. His stubble scratched her jaw. Between that and a mouth on her neck for the first time in way too long, gooseflesh trailed down Narcissa's arms and up over her scalp.

Wesley's arms tightened around her, and hot breath washed over Narcissa's shoulder. If Narcissa felt so heavy after only a year without intimacy, she couldn't imagine how hard it was hitting Wesley. Narcissa had no problem at all offering herself as a means for relief, for that was all she really sought here too. She liked Wesley—and all this time they spent together lately was lovely—but this didn't really have a whole lot to do with that.

Because Narcissa had only ever been with one man, it jarred her whenever Wesley did something different than she was used to. Narcissa wouldn't call it a rut since she never felt bored with Lucius, but twenty-five years was more than enough time to learn a man's body and habits. Wesley wasn't as much of a nuzzler as Lucius. That could've had to do with the urgency that quickly rose. There was a physical need, yes, but Narcissa also wanted to go through with this before she had a chance to question herself. She wondered if Wesley was thinking the same thing as he kissed her, or if his mind had just turned off.

Wesley pulled off Narcissa's nightshirt, and other than a scramble beside the bed to made rid of everything else between them, Narcissa wasn't even sure he really looked at her. She didn't get much chance to look at him, either. She could feel him—maybe a little too much when discomfort accompanied his attempt to sink into her. Considering his haste, Narcissa was surprised Wesley even registered her tensing up.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Just been a while."

Narcissa was certainly wet enough, and she wanted it. She did her best to relax through the bout of impatience that welled up with any sort of hindrance. She felt better when Wesley could give her the whole length of himself without protest. Wesley was still hesitant, even when Narcissa pulled her legs up to get them closer together. It took her gripping Wesley's bum for him to catch her encouragement. When he'd upped the pace to something more acceptable for the mood between them, Narcissa ran her nails up his back instead.

From there it seemed over far too quickly, even if fast and hard was how Narcissa wanted it. She glowed with some sort of satisfaction to have that power over a man again. She didn't even mind that Wesley basically tapped out after rolling off of her. Perhaps for now it was better they didn't leave an opening to discuss it. Narcissa stayed only long enough at that point to find her knickers in the blanket's folds. She slipped back into her nightshirt on the way to the door. After cleaning up, slipping back into bed, and finishing herself off, Narcissa's sleep carried her into a bright morning.

The shower ran in the bathroom. Narcissa headed downstairs to use that toilet instead, and then carried on into the kitchen. Wesley had brought some good looking sausages back the last time he ran home. Narcissa started frying those along with some eggs and mushrooms while the kettle rattled up toward a boil.

One of the errant floorboards creaked over by the keeping room. Narcissa glanced up at Wesley, his body wash having already reached her nose. "Morning."

"Hey." He lingered before heading over to the table. "Smells good."

"It should be," Narcissa replied. "Never much bothered with this whole cooking thing, but I might be getting the hang of it now."

It was more the principle of it than the science Narcissa had initially put her nose up to. Until now, she'd never in all her life been required to prepare a meal for herself. It wasn't really all that bad, come to find.

Silence was a common thing between Narcissa and Wesley, but it wasn't as comfortable this morning. Something remained unspoken between them. While Narcissa felt just fine about it, Wesley seemed on-edge.

She bit the bullet. "All right?"

"Yeah," he hesitantly replied. "Are we going to talk about it?"

"We could." Narcissa turned sideways so that she could tend to their breakfast and look at Wesley at the same time. "We're adults, after all."

Wesley managed a laugh. It lightened the air a little bit.

"I don't regret it, or anything," Narcissa said. "Do you?"

"I'm just thinking about Lucius."

Narcissa frowned. "What about him? I left him. If I'd been able to contact an advocate from here, I wouldn't even be a Malfoy anymore."

"Not about you and him, but him and I," Wesley clarified. "I've known him for decades. I don't know that it's right to be involved with his wife—or ex-wife, even."

"Too late for that." Narcissa put her back to Wesley again, busying herself with the mushrooms. "If it was such a problem, you should've said no last night."

Wesley didn't say anything. As much as Narcissa wanted to look at him to see what he might be thinking, she resisted the urge.

She put together two plates and brought them along with tea to the table. Wesley quietly thanked her, and silence fell again as they ate.

"If it was a problem, then it can just be a one-time thing," Narcissa said toward the end of their meal. "We don't even have to acknowledge it happened, if you'd rather. It's not like anybody would ever know unless we said something."

Wesley had his jaw in his hand as he thought, elbow on the table. He considered her when their gazes met. "I guess."

"I'll leave it up to you."

Narcissa saw no harm to her own ego in putting the decision what came next on Wesley. It would be beneath her to pursue anything when he'd expressed concern. Surely Wesley must realize how silly this was. He was a Death Eater, and this was where he drew his moral line? Narcissa supposed it was different among purebloods, and especially among ranks. Lucius was much higher than Wesley in that, and if Lucius didn't like this, it might cause trouble.

They could very easily keep it to themselves, and if Narcissa was going to be stuck here for an elongated period of time, it would suit her to at least have a good lay once in a while. Narcissa wasn't in Wesley's bed more than ten minutes last night, but she was already idly reliving it in a daydream. Wesley's ragged breath beside her ear and the shudder running the length of his back when he finished made Narcissa want it again.

Things fell awkward between them through clean-up, so Narcissa slipped out of the house in order to take a stroll. She half-expected that Wesley would be gone when she returned, but he'd made himself comfortable with a book on one of the couches in the great room.

Since they didn't talk a whole lot throughout the day, Narcissa figured she would be watching the combination sunset and sunrise alone. She went down there by herself, and was pleasantly surprised to hear footsteps coming up behind her later. Her mood slipped when she looked back over her shoulder.

It was Bella.

"Wesley said you'd be down here," she said.

Narcissa looked back to where the sun started to dip below the horizon. "This is pretty much the most exciting part of my day."

Bella snickered and took a seat beside Narcissa. "Still haven't found anything to keep yourself busy?"

Narcissa resisted rolling her eyes. "Wesley brings books with him, so I just read them when he's done."

"Sounds like a nice little holiday."

"Other than being completely isolated, it hasn't actually been that bad."

"See, there you go," Bella feigned a chirpy attitude, which just came off as sarcastic. "You definitely seem less mopey than when we left."

"I guess we both needed a break from each other."

"Ha ha," Bella dryly replied. "I thought having some time alone might give you the opportunity to realize how lucky you were."

Narcissa raised her eyebrows. "How lucky I am?"

"Hm." Bella studied her with narrowed eyes. "Maybe you haven't done much thinking after all."

"How was your little venture?" Narcissa changed the subject. "Did you manage whatever you left for?"

"No," Bella snipped. "You'd know if we did."

"Okay." Narcissa had no clue what that meant. "Are you back for a while?"

"Few weeks, maybe." Bella pulled her cloak tighter around her as a cool wind picked up. She shivered slightly, although did her best to hide it. "It'll be nice to sleep in a bed and get some real rest."

"I don't suppose you care to tell me what you were up to?"

"Why would I?"

Narcissa shrugged. "Usually when people go away, they come back with stories."

"This wasn't a holiday." Bella sneered. "We didn't come back with photos and gifts and whatever else."

Before she could help it, Narcissa snorted. "That's fair."

Whatever Bella had been up to, she'd at least managed to return in a calmer state. She sat quietly with Narcissa through the sunset. Narcissa looked over once to see Bella rubbing her eyes.

"Tired?" Narcissa asked.

Bella shrugged. "It's late."

"I guess so." It had to be past midnight. "What time it is wasn't really relevant until the sun started setting again. I was all messed up thinking noon and midnight were switched for a little while."

"How could you mess that up?" Bella raised an eyebrow. "You can tell what time it is by where the sun is in the sky."

"I'm not used to telling time like that, and after a while, I realized that the island moves."

This information didn't move Bella the way it had affected Narcissa when she figured it out. She'd taken the eastern trail out to the beach one day only to find that she was looking north. It had briefly disoriented Narcissa.

"Do you sit out here until the sun comes back up?" Bella asked.

"I did last night," Narcissa replied. "It was the first time it set."

"Hm."

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to."

Bella thought about it before standing up. "Come on then."

"Why do I have to?"

"Just come," Bella replied. "I shouldn't have to explain everything to you like a child."

Irritation developed into a pit in Narcissa's stomach. One luxury she'd gained in Bella's absence was the ability to make her own decisions. After debating it, she decided that ultimately it wasn't worth making a stink over. Narcissa fell in step with Bella on the way to the path.

"Do you still not trust me?" Narcissa asked. "I was here alone for a month. I never made a run for it, or anything."

"But you weren't alone," Bella replied. "Wesley said he was here more often than gone."

"He still left sometimes, though. I think I handled it all responsibly enough you can let me off the leash a little when you're around. I don't need a babysitter."

Bella just shrugged. She would never admit that she was wrong. Narcissa just hoped she would eventually frame it as that she was tired of watching over Narcissa.

The house was quiet but well-lit when they returned. Narcissa had a feeling the Dark Lord had made himself back at home in the room off the foyer. Bella led Narcissa upstairs. The door on the blank wall at the top had not only reappeared, but it was open now. Narcissa looked inside at the bedroom, slowing briefly until Wesley looked over from where he set his things. Bella carried on to the room Wesley had been in before. The bed was made anew. Narcissa hesitated before sitting on the edge of it. Wesley clearly hadn't bothered to mention pinning Narcissa to it last night, or Bella would've lost what remained of her mind.

Narcissa contemplated Bella as she unpacked her bag. "Would I be pushing my luck if I asked for a small favour?"

"What kind of favour?"

"It's been such a long time since I talked to Draco," Narcissa said. "Would it be okay if I wrote him a letter? I haven't talked to Wesley about it, but I think if I asked him to send it next time he goes home to London, he would."

One side of Bella's nose wrinkled as she grunted.

"Could I just send him one without expecting a reply?" Narcissa tried to bargain. "I just want to tell him I'm okay, basically, and not to worry if he is. I don't care if you read the letter first and make sure it's all right."

"I'll think about it," Bella said. "I'll ask the Dark Lord tomorrow to see what he thinks. Any hint of a code or anything in there, and you'd lose the opportunity. You know that, right?"

Narcissa nodded. "I know. Believe me, Bella, I'm settled here. I've accepted that this is what it is. I just want to reach out and let him know I think about him and love him and all that."

"We'll see."

Narcissa didn't dare push it. She knew she was lucky to get so much as a maybe. Bella might look at it as something she could dangle over Narcissa's head if she misbehaved, but Narcissa didn't have any intentions on doing that anyway. She never spared a thought toward trying to weasel her way off the island by cozying up to Wesley, or learning to swim so that she could make it her own way. She'd probably learned enough here that she could survive in the woods as she made her way back south, but what would the point be when the Fidelius Charm was cast over her? The only real motivation to leave right now would be to escape this place. Narcissa was well-fed, though. She had a warm bed every night. Her social needs were being met. Other than Bella being annoying and occasionally cruel, Narcissa wasn't being hurt. Toeing the line for a while would get her back to her old life a lot quicker than acting like a rebellious teenager would.

When Bella shooed her, Narcissa returned to her room to think about what she would write. The idea of sending a letter to Draco had been something Narcissa used during Bella's absence to try and pass the time. Now that she might have the opportunity, she needed to organize her mind. If Bella gave her the go-ahead and Wesley took it with him, Bella wouldn't be able to change her mind once he was gone. Wesley might have to leave sooner than expected, now that Bella and the Dark Lord returned. The amount of food in the house wouldn't last all of them very long.

That was the first thing Narcissa tended to when she woke up. She took mental stock down in the kitchen and filed the food into meals.

Bella found her there, looking a bit less exhausted on this side of sleep. She took a seat at the table.

"Tea?" Narcissa asked.

"Sure." Bella yawned. "What're you making?"

"Nothing yet, but I can throw something on if you're hungry," Narcissa replied. "I'm just figuring out our food situation, now there are four back under the roof. Wesley should probably run today if we don't want to be short."

"Oh yeah."

"We could make do if we had to," Narcissa said. "That woman showed me to some berry bushes, and there's a man in a little pond that gave me a fish once."

"And you ate it?" Bella grew snippy.

"You ate some of the berries, by the looks of it." Narcissa had noticed that some of the tarts she'd made went missing overnight. "Unless the Dark Lord snuck some."

"The Dark Lord does not sneak things in the kitchen of the house he's hosting you in!"

"It's just a figure of speech," Narcissa replied. "Relax, I'm not calling him a thief."

"You'd better not be."

"Would you prefer bacon or sausages?"

Narcissa got started on the bacon at Bella's grumbled request, filling the house with a smell that drew Wesley and the Dark Lord in. Narcissa tried not to act too overly fascinated by the Dark Lord just sitting at the table (the head, of course) with a couple of his followers, as if he was somebody normal.

Before she came here, Narcissa had never seen the Dark Lord eat. She never thought about him doing things like sleeping or relaxing. He mentioned taking a walk around the island after breakfast. Narcissa cleaned up after breakfast and grew excited when Bella brought her some parchment, but Narcissa was only meant to make a list for Wesley. He wouldn't be taking a letter with him this time.

Wesley asked Narcissa if she wanted to walk with him to the beach when it came time for him to leave. He weathered all of Bella's jokes about how the woods scared him before she finally let them go. Wesley remained cagey. He wouldn't break the silence between him and Narcissa until the forest was oppressively quiet around them.

"I had a thought last night, something we ought to talk about," Wesley said. "It's probably the stupidest thing to have forgotten, but I never even thought about something like Natalise Potion before we—you know."

Narcissa nodded, although she wasn't too concerned about it. The reproductive problems she and Lucius experienced were definitely on her end of things. They'd had no issue at all conceiving Draco. It was afterward that things never took again.

"What do you want to do, then?" Narcissa asked.

"Would you be offended if I brought you something that would undo anything we might have done? I didn't want to just show up with it."

"If you bring it, I'll take it."

Wesley nodded mindlessly, perhaps surprised that she didn't go off or turn it into a row. Narcissa would be lying if she denied feeling a little sad to face her infertility again. It was hard not to think, after the handful of years she and Lucius struggled, that Narcissa ought to take the opportunity if, even at forty-three, it arose again. The time was past, though.

"You really don't mind?" Wesley asked.

"Does this look like a place for a baby?" Narcissa replied. "We're not together, either. It's best to be reasonable."

"Okay." Wesley hesitated. "That's not how I wanted to say goodbye to you."

"How did you want to say goodbye?"

"Anything but that, really."

They fell quiet again as they came up on the beach. Wesley busied himself double-checking he had everything he needed.

"See you when you get back," Narcissa said as Wesley mounted his broom.

He finally managed a smile. "See you."

Narcissa watched him go until his form shrunk to a black dot in the distance. Even though there were still two people here on the island with her, Narcissa felt lonelier than ever. Rather than risk being called mopey again at the house, Narcissa stayed out on the beach.

She spotted something small and black in her peripheral vision as she sat and watched the waves. The Dark Lord came her way. Narcissa assumed that he would take one of the paths between them back to the house, but he kept on.

He paused in his tracks when Narcissa stood up. She felt a little uneasy, especially given the way he studied her from under his drawn hood. She wondered if he burnt easily from the sun, or if he drew his hood out of habit.

"My Lord." The words felt weird on Narcissa's tongue, and she didn't much take either to bowing her head. "I was hoping for a chance to speak with you."

"What about?"

Since he let her get that far, Narcissa came up closer. She stopped when he leaned back a little with proximity. "I wanted to apologize for all the extra trouble I've caused you. I had time to think while you were away, and I realized just how wrapped up I was in my own personal affairs. I've never had to exercise the same kind of discipline as your followers because my role in supporting Lucius aligned with your goals. I lost perspective."

"It isn't your fault Lucius is in Azkaban. He did what he could to prevent it before we were overwhelmed. I think seeing Erik die threw him off-balance."

Narcissa's stomach clenched. She hadn't thought about Lucius witnessing that. "Probably. He held Erik in high esteem."

"Yes."

"Not that I could ever dream to fill the hole Lucius left," Narcissa said, "but I would like in some form to make myself useful. I'm not blind to the fact my family has disappointed you lately. I would like to begin repaying that debt and regaining your trust by humbly requesting your mark."

Narcissa averted her gaze as a show of respect. She could feel the Dark Lord considering her.

"To be a branded Death Eater takes time and sacrifice," the Dark Lord told her. "I only allow those who have unwavering faith to be close to me."

Narcissa nodded.

"You have stood by Lucius right from when he first joined my ranks," the Dark Lord continued. "You have allowed me usage of your home and supported my work in a secondary manner whenever you could. You have perpetuated the beliefs and moral code that will become commonplace in the new world we're all trying to create."

"Yes," Narcissa confirmed.

"I'll oblige your request," the Dark Lord said. "Give me your left arm."

Heart pounding, Narcissa stepped closer and rolled up the left sleeve of her cloak. The Dark Lord extracted his wand from a pocket in his robe. His free hand grasped Narcissa's wrist, and she was momentarily distracted by the image of red lines like lightning running up his forearm. He pressed the tip of his wand into Narcissa's forearm, and she suppressed a gasp at sharp pain. What looked like black ink pushed in under her skin and crawled up toward her elbow, forming the familiar picture of a skull and snake along the way. Her hand throbbed from how tightly the Dark Lord held her in place. Narcissa started to sweat. The pain didn't stop when the Dark Lord retracted his wand. The entire area throbbed, swelling from irritation.

"To be clear," the Dark Lord said to gain her attention again, "it will take time before I trust you with any tasks. You have regressed lately, and while I acknowledge the steps you are taking to come back, I reserve myself as the authority on judging when you are ready."

Narcissa bowed. "I understand. Thank you, my Lord."

The last Friday in July happened to be Harry's birthday. Other than Ron wishing him of it before they both left for work, it didn't feel like a particularly special day. Harry was used to having his birthday wide open, not spent in an office looking forward to the weekend, and to the first Order meeting since mid-June.

There hadn't been one with full attendance since the day Malfoy and Ramstad joined over Easter. A full great room at Malfoy Manor caused Harry pause as he arrived straight from the office along with some other Aurors. He headed over to Ron, Hermione, and Viktor. Viktor looked as surly as ever, so it was hard to tell if he was excited for his first meeting. His brow came up when he took Harry's hand.

"Settling in all right?" Harry asked him.

"Da, just fine," he replied. "It helps to have had July for that before I start work Monday. How has the Ministry been for you?"

"Oh, good, you know."

Through the course of conversation, Harry kept an eye on the fireplace to see who else would show up today. He had half a thought that Malfoy and Ramstad might not, but he was proven wrong when they stepped out. They looked around while brushing soot off their clothes, and ended up coming over to where Harry was.

"Hey," Malfoy greeted them all.

"Hello," Hermione returned it before placing a hand on Viktor's arm. "Viktor, this is my friend Dagmar I was telling you about, and this is Draco Malfoy."

"Ah." Viktor shook both their hands. A small flutter of pleasure visited Harry that Viktor didn't remember Malfoy from when he schmoozed up to him during the Triwizard Tournament. Malfoy's cheeks went a little pink, so perhaps he realized it as well. "This must be your home, then."

"Er—family estate," Malfoy replied. "Dagmar and I live in Norway now."

They hadn't been there long yet, but Harry registered a slight change in the way Malfoy spoke. His Rs started to harden a little bit.

As six o'clock neared, everyone gravitated into the drawing room. It felt weird to sit in the same place that so many Death Eater meetings had taken place. As Harry took a seat between Ron and Hermione, he wondered whose chair it used to be.

"Thank you all for coming," Dumbledore greeted them all.

The meeting went much like the smaller ones since Easter all had. There hadn't been any local activities that suggested Voldemort was active again. It was worth touching base, Harry supposed, but on his birthday especially, he didn't much see the point.

His curiosity piqued at the end, however, when Dumbledore addressed him over the sound of scraping chairs. Harry moved against the stream of exiting people as he came up to the front, where Kingsley waited with Dumbledore. Harry got really curious when Malfoy and Ramstad came up as well.

The last person out closed the drawing room door behind them. Dumbledore gestured at the chairs closest to the one he'd claimed. "Take a seat."

A small wrinkle in Kingsley's brow made Harry think he wasn't the only one this was getting sprung on. Malfoy and Ramstad were too practiced at neutral facial expressions for Harry to tell where they stood on it.

Dumbledore looked at them when they'd all sat again. "You had something you wanted to talk to us about?"

"Ja," Ramstad said. "I had a discussion with my dean of medicine at Olaf Kyrre the day after we went to Azkaban. It ended up being potentially relevant to what Voldemort might be looking for. I thought it worth sharing in case it means something to any of you."

Harry leaned forward a bit in his seat.

"I had to claim a whole bunch of stuff to assess my fitness to provide care," Ramstad carried on. "They already knew about my parents being Death Eaters and about when I got in trouble in Nice last summer, but I also told him about speaking Parseltongue and not knowing anything about my personal history before 1985. The dean suggested my mum might have been a druid."

"Meaning what, exactly?" Harry asked while Dumbledore and Kingsley thought on it.

"Meaning basically she lived off the grid," Ramstad replied. "Druids hide from the magical community the way the magical community hides from Muggles. She wouldn't have been registered with the Ministry when she was born. She wouldn't have registered me. She wouldn't go to school. She might not have even had a last name before she married my dad."

"Ah," Dumbledore said. "I wish that had occurred to me. I don't believe there are many druids left in Britain. If there are, well, how would we know about them other than the history of how they've been treated? Historically, the wizarding community has not been so kind."

"That's what Arne said," Ramstad replied. "He said that because druids hold a certain level of power over nature, that they're usually either exploited or misunderstood."

"Power over nature like what?" Harry asked. He was having a hard time imagining what the magical community would need that they didn't already have.

"Mortality, for one," Dumbledore was the one to answer, "which we have long known Voldemort to seek the cure for, so to speak."

As Harry thought about it, his stomach curdled. "Lucius said Voldemort already had that power, but was looking for something more ideal. Do you think that's what he meant? That Voldemort is already immortal?"

"Perhaps tentatively so, if such a middle ground exists," Dumbledore said.

Harry looked back at Ramstad. "So what kinds of ways can druids do that?"

"I have no idea." She shrugged. "I can't think of anyone in my life that's connected to my mum like that. I'm meeting my uncle—my dad's brother—on Sunday, so maybe he might know something. If I could find my mum's family or where she used to live, they might have even seen what Voldemort, my mum, Magnus, and whoever else were up to."

They couldn't get much further than that, but Harry appreciated that Ramstad came forward with it. Harry couldn't even find it in himself to be annoyed that Ramstad probably would've kept it secret if she didn't have a personal stake. Everybody wanted to know where they came from.

Ron sized Harry up in the great room. "What was that about?"

"Tell you later."

Harry apparated back to Grimmauld Place. After how quiet it had been since the end of June, some life bustling down in the kitchen was a nice change. Mrs. Weasley had skipped the Order meeting in order to get going on Harry's birthday dinner. Hermione, Viktor, and Mr. Weasley had already made it here, as had Ginny, Fred, and George. Ginny was sulky, since her mum still forbade her from attending Order meetings until she was of-age in a few weeks.

"Don't even worry about it." Fred clapped her on the back. "You'll get a couple under your belt and then you'll do like us and skip the odd one if you know it's going to be dull."

"You said you were working late," Mrs. Weasley piped up from beside the stove. Fred cast her a knowing look that made Mrs. Weasley press her lips and turn her back so that Ginny couldn't see her smile.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Mr. Weasley wished him with a clasp of the shoulder when Harry sat down. "Eighteen already! Boy, do the years go fast."

It was just them for the evening. Harry had a couple other people he'd considered inviting, but he preferred a smaller affair. Everyone here felt like the only family Harry actually had. It was easier to relax in such a tight-knit group.

Dinner was a spread of all Harry's favourites, as was dessert. The twins stepped out first since they had to open shop in the morning ("Don't party too late, Ron," George teased him), followed by Hermione and Viktor. Harry could tell Ginny tried to hold out just in case some sort of Order business slipped, but when Mrs. Weasley stood, she cast Ginny a pointed look.

"Oh, Ginny," Harry said, feigning that he'd just remembered something. "Could I have a quick word before you go home?"

"She should probably come with us—"

"It's not about Order business," Harry told Mrs. Weasley.

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny shared a look. With it, Mrs. Weasley just shrugged. "Don't be long, then."

Harry headed up the kitchen stairs with Ginny in tow. Her curiosity seemed to grow as they climbed to the third floor. They came to a stop outside Harry's room.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I was going to catch you about this after you'd been inducted, but this works just fine," Harry said. "We should talk about Luca Parasca."

Ginny's curiosity solidified into seriousness. "What about him?"

"We watched him all last year, and nothing ever stood out." Harry folded his arms. "You had classes with him, so you probably noticed he's nothing like Tom Riddle was, personality-wise. Right?"

"Other than looking like him, no." Ginny shook her head. "He was the complete opposite."

"Because of that, everyone else has written him off. I just don't know that I'm ready to. Ron and Hermione blow me off if I bring it up, but you would take it seriously with me, right?"

"For sure. Is there something you want me to do?"

"Here's the thing." Harry glanced at the stairs to make sure Mrs. Weasley didn't sneak up to check in. "If he's up to something or something's off, last year wasn't a good time to do anything. I won't be at Hogwarts anymore. You're going to be the only Order member there. I half-wonder if someone is waiting to make a move until Dumbledore and I were separated. Not that I don't think Dumbledore could defend himself, but some kind of means for back-up would be handy. My fireplace here is connected to Hogwarts. If trouble ever arose, I could be there pretty quickly with Aurors or something."

"So you want me to keep an eye on Luca?"

"Just a sec'."

Harry dipped into his room and rooted through his old school trunk. He hadn't bothered to unload it yet. Pressed flat up against one side was the Marauder's Map. Harry brought it back out to the hallway.

"I won't need this anymore." Harry held it out to Ginny. "You remember it, right? And how to use it?"

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," Ginny said.

"Yep."

Ginny unfolded it to study the currently-blank parchment. Despite her seriousness, she looked a little excited. "So what do you think he's up to? He really doesn't seem the type to do anything, does he? Were it not for Tom. . .I wouldn't have ever pinned him as someone to look out for."

"Us neither," Harry said. "I don't know. It's really hard to accept anything like a coincidence. Hermione says I only look at it that way because of things like the prophecy, but that's the thing. When things like prophecies exist, then how can coincidences?"

"No, I get it." Ginny nodded. "I'm glad you're taking it seriously. I think you and me were the only ones that really grasped what that whole thing was like with Tom's diary. If that's what You-Know-Who was like as a teenager, how could Luca really be any different if it's all just a manipulation? You-Know-Who fooled everybody but Dumbledore for years when he was our age. How could they say Luca isn't capable of the same thing?"

"Exactly."

Harry was so relieved to finally find someone that would take this seriously with him. Ron and Hermione thought Harry ought to focus on finding Magnus Norheim, and that's exactly what Harry would do. Ginny wanted to be involved in the Order, so Harry would delegate this task to her.

A sly smile came over Ginny. "I thought you said this wasn't about Order business."

"It's not, technically." Harry shrugged. "The Order isn't really doing anything about Luca, and you're not a member. As far as your mum can say, we're discussing something outside of it."

"Hm."

"What?"

"I actually thought you were pulling me aside to ask after Pansy or something."

Harry blinked. Because he'd been so busy with work and otherwise preoccupied, he hadn't spared Parkinson much of a thought aside from whenever he was bored at home. . .or a dull moment came around the office. . .or whenever he saw a couple somewhere. . .

"What about her?" Harry turned nervous.

"You two hit it off a little, didn't you?" Ginny pushed his shoulder, grin reminiscent of the twins. "Pansy was disappointed you never went back."

Harry cursed his warm cheeks. "I didn't have a reason to, after my suit was finished."

"Did you want to?"

Harry's tongue caught against the prospect of confirmation. Even if Ginny knew Pansy fancied Harry, Harry was still hesitant about creating an opening in that part of his life.

"I had a feeling this would happen." Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're both too shy for your own good. Look, I was organizing a birthday party for all my friends, and I want you to come. It's not just going to be girls, so don't feel like I'm sandbagging you. Seamus and Dean will be there too."

"Okay." Harry wouldn't mind catching a pint or something with them. It still made him nervous as all hell about seeing Parkinson in a social setting.

"Just don't bring Ron," Ginny said in a tone that reminded Harry slightly of Mrs. Weasley. "I don't want him around my friends. Fred and George have been telling me all about the little reputation he's making for himself in Diagon Alley."

Harry snorted. "Oh, so that's true?"

Being attached to the joke shop held a certain weight in the social world of Diagon Alley. Ron had mentioned going around with a couple different women after work as explanation why, on some evenings, Harry beat him home.

"Apparently." Ginny shrugged. "He can do whatever he wants there, but he can leave anyone I'm close to alone."

"Fair enough."