Chapter 13

Corvus: Foreboding

Summer 1994 - Spring 1995

Narcissa was drunk - very drunk - and felt on top of the world. She laughed gleefully and blasted a tent out of her way, relishing the panicked screams of the people running in every direction. Run, run and try to hide - she sang inside her head - we're coming to get you! She cried, "Incendeo!" aiming her wand at another tent, and screeched with laughter as it burst into flames. This is what my wand it for! Not hair and make-up charms. It wants me to do powerful magic. She felt warmth coursing through her fingertips as she let into the sensation, and set more tents alight. Is this how Bella felt? Narcissa had never felt more alive as she strode with the hooded and masked group through the campsite. The Quidditch match itself been unbearably dull - the glory of sitting in the top box at the invitation of the Minister for Magic himself had been marred by the presence of the blood traitor Weasley family. How they could have afforded such seats was really beyond her, and she spent the whole match getting more and more worked-up at the injustice of it all. Scum! Blood traitors and filth! Defiling the wizarding world. We need to teach them a lesson... And in the post-match party, getting drunker and drunker with the rest of their old Death Eater allies, Narcissa and Lucius decided to do just that. Laughing and giggling, the Death Eaters quickly disapparated to their respective homes to collect their robes and masks. (Narcissa quickly duplicated Lucius', having not been branded with the Dark Mark she had never received a set of her own.) They had then met back at the campsite, kidnapped the Muggle family who owned the field, and started their march. Draco had been told he was allowed to watch, as long as he kept out of the way, and he had taken up a position at the edge of the wood, watching the group as they levitated the Muggles, spun them around, forced their limbs to contort into odd shapes, and flipped them over in the air.

More and more witches and wizards were joining their group, and Narcissa ducked back into the centre, taking Lucius' free hand and squeezing it tightly. His other hand was grasping his wand, which was pointed straight up, keeping the Muggle man in the air. "Here come the opposition!" Lucius called, as a group of witches and wizards came running out of the darkness towards them, wands drawn. "Let's show them what we're made of!" A cheer went up from the crowd, and they began to shoot spells at the oncoming forces. The Ministry wizards dodged, and sent back Stunning spells, but they were worried about letting the Muggle family fall, so made very little progress. Narcissa sent Blasting curses over the heads of their group, laughing as the Ministry wizards scattered. So weak, so pathetic! she crowed to herself, raising her eyes to the stars, and taking in their beautiful light. Then everything changed as a vast, glittering green jet of light shot into the sky, forming a huge emerald skull, with a green snake protruding from its mouth. Narcissa crashed into the wizard in front of her as the group suddenly stopped marching. Then pandemonium set in. The group began to yell and scream in panic, shoving and pushing one another as they tried to flee. Lucius grabbed Narcissa's hand, pulling her from the circle, letting the Muggle man fall. The other Death Eaters were doing the same, and the fringe supporters scattered. The Ministry wizards surged forwards, wands raised, but they lost their chance to apprehend the Death Eaters as they desperately tried to catch the Muggles before they hit the ground. Narcissa and Lucius sprinted towards the wood, where Draco was waiting.

"Mum! Father!" he cried, but Narcissa did not stop to reassure him, thrusting her wand back into her robes, she seized his wrist with her free hand as Lucius twisted on the spot, taking his family away from the campsite. They reappeared a second later outside the gates of Malfoy Manor.

"Quickly!" Lucius cried, and they charged towards the house. Once inside, Lucius and Narcissa tore to the cellar, hiding their robes and masks, and then stood panting. Narcissa swayed, the alcohol taking over again, and Lucius caught her, saying firmly, "It's fine, we'll say we came back here as soon as the riot started, we'll say we were worried about Draco getting caught up in it all." Narcissa nodded, and they went back upstairs to their son. Draco nodded solemnly as his parents spoke, and Narcissa saw his mind was working furiously. He had known of his parents' association with the Dark Lord, had heard about the sorts of things they had done, but this was the first time he had witnessed anything for himself, and he was trying to reconcile his parents as he knew them to the masked, hooded figures at the campsite. She could see that he was particularly struggling to place her, his mother.

"It's ok, baby," Narcissa whispered, pulling him to her for a hug, but this time, for the first time, he did not hug her back. He stepped back, looking at her with the same expression he used when he spoke to Lucius; one of deferential respect,

"Yes, Mother," he said, polite reserve in his voice.

The Prophet's report on the events of the Quidditch World Cup, written by one Rita Skeeter, was sensational, but devoid of any concrete facts, and speculations ran wild amongst witches and wizards. But, to Narcissa's relief, no-one came to question the Malfoy family, and life for them continued as usual. After a visit to the Ministry a few days after the World Cup, Lucius returned home bearing important news. Draco was summoned, and stood before his father's desk as he was told that the Tri-Wizard Tournament was due to take place at Hogwarts that year.

"I heard this through the Minister for Magic himself, Draco. I doubt whether any other students at the school will be privy to such classified information."

"Yes, Father," Draco said, looking serious, then asked if it was a competition befitting the future heir of the family. Lucius nodded approvingly at his question, but said that Draco was too young to enter, and such contests were more befitting the Gryffindors of the world;

"Recklessness is not a virtue, son. Allow your rivals to die chasing glory, then snatch the prize from their loosening grasp." Narcissa strongly suspected her husband had made up the saying on the fly, but it seemed to impress Draco. She certainly was not going to argue; the Tri-Wizard Tournament, even with revised rules, was not something she wanted her son involved with. It was far too dangerous.

Narcissa took Draco to Diagon Alley for his school supplies, but the trip was not as much fun as she had hoped it would be. Her son still seemed wary around her, addressing her as "Mother", holding shop doors open for her, carrying her bags for her, and generally behaving in a deferential but detached manner. He only really brightened when she asked him what he would like in his first treat box of the term, and she was pleased when he asked for her home-made treacle fudge.

Draco went back to school as usual on 1st September. Lucius came with them, and once again Draco shook his father's hand on the platform. He did hug Narcissa, but her heart ached as he whispered formally to her, "Goodbye, Mother. I love you and I hope you stay well." Narcissa tried not to cry as she released Draco and watched him climb onto the train. Her relationship with her son had shifted, he was no longer her little boy, to be babied and cradled. He was growing into a man, and had glimpsed the power and purpose he could one day claim.

The Prophet the next day contained an article which amused Lucius. Rita Skeeter had apparently stumbled upon a little indecent involving the aged ex-Auror, Alastor Moody, a set of exploding dustbins and one 'Arnold Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office'. "This is priceless!" Lucius laughed. "They didn't even get his name right. And have you seen this picture? That family really know no shame." He pushed the paper over to Narcissa, who lay aside her book and took it up. The page showed a tall, thin man and a dumpy woman both with flaming red hair standing outside a ramshackle, teetering building. Narcissa snorted derisively.

"What on earth is that? It looks like a Muggle house standing on top of a pig-sty!"

Lucius laughed again, taking the paper back. "Now, now, Narcissa. I think you are being a bit generous there... it put me more in mind of a badly expanded broom-shed! Even our elf has a better room than that!"

Ingle slept in a cupboard in the scullery. It was small, but the elf kept it spotlessly clean, and Narcissa had even allowed her to furnish it with a little cot. In Dobby's day, it had been filthy and dank, and only contained one thin sheet. But Ingle's hard work, lack of mistakes and respectful attitude had endeared her to her mistress. Most of the time, Narcissa hardly noticed she was there, which was the mark of a truly competent House-elf.

Narcissa barely had time to settle into a routine without her son to care for, when, that very evening, Ingle announced to her master and mistress the arrival of Professor Snape. Narcissa felt sick, waiting for Severus to be shown into the parlour, where she and Lucius were sitting. When the Potions Master entered, she said immediately, "Draco? Is he -"

"He is fine, Narcissa," Severus interrupted quickly. "But I do not have long and need to speak to you both as a matter of urgency."

"Sit down." Lucius indicated an armchair, and Severus sat, folding his hands in his lap, saying soberly,

"Alastor Moody is the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. I had no idea, until he turned up during the welcome feast."

"Alastor Moody? But he killed Evan!" Narcissa cried, looking shocked. "And he's insane - a vigilante! He'll never treat Draco fairly, or Vincent, or Gregory... or the children of anyone who was accused of -" She broke off shaking her head. "And what about you, Severus?"

He spoke with a rapidity Narcissa had never heard from him before, "Moody is angry, furious, that I - that we -" Severus gestured to the three of them "- escaped punishment. He's harbouring a lot of resentment and he is extremely dangerous. He has already searched my office, deliberately breaking and vanishing some of my more expensive brews and ingredients." He paused, balling his hands into fists, then went on, "When the Tournament begins, both Igor Karkaroff and Ludovic Bagman will be at Hogwarts too, and that will only serve to make Moody angrier. Especially after the events of the Quidditch World Cup -" he broke off again, looking from Lucius to Narcissa. "- did you have anything to do with that?" Lucius nodded without hesitation. Severus did not look at all surprised as he enquired, "And does Draco know?"

"Yes. He witnessed the whole thing," Lucius said, looking defiantly at his friend, as if daring him to question the wisdom of this decision. Severus, however, ignored the challenge, and went on,

"Do you have any idea who cast the Dark Mark?" He looked tense, waiting for their reply.

"No," Narcissa spoke up. "They weren't with us, whoever they were. And we can't work out whether it was in support of what we were doing... or something else. They must have been a Death Eater to know the incantation, but we have no idea who it could have been. All our old allies who got off were on the campsite with us, but the Mark was cast from the woods..." Her voice tailed away, and she twisted her hands nervously in her lap.

Severus nodded, accepting her statement, then continued, "Due to that incident, all the staff are tense. The students are looking more closely than ever at each other and the families of their peers, the Ministry are desperately trying to tighten security and anyone with a past even vaguely connected to the Dark Arts are potential suspects. And, as you have said, Moody likes to dish out his idea of justice." Severus stopped and turned his head, speaking directly to Narcissa, "I am sorry to have to tell you that Moody transfigured Draco into a ferret and forced him to hit the floor and ceiling repeatedly, supposedly as punishment for attempting to attack Potter. Minerva, fortunately, quickly happened upon the scene and intervened on Draco's behalf. Moody then brought Draco to me and threatened us both - he did it very carefully, but there was no denying the meaning behind his words."

"He hurt Draco," Narcissa spoke softly, but she felt unbridled anger begin to rise in her chest.

"That is why I am here, Narcissa!" Severus cried, his face set. "I knew you would react like this, and you must do nothing. No revenge, no going to the Board, no trying to influence things at the Ministry. Moody is not like Hagrid or Persephone Crabbe! You must not attempt to do anything foolish - it will not work and he will hit back harder."

Lucius put a hand on Narcissa's arm, shaking his head gently. "Severus is right, Narcissa. We cannot afford to upset Alastor Moody. He was a brilliant Auror in his day, and he is the kind of man who would stop at nothing to destroy us. We have to keep our heads down."

Severus rose from his seat. "The Headmaster does not know I am here, I must get back before I am missed. Draco said he is going to write to you about what happened -"

Lucius cut him off, "I'm on it. I'll tell him to toe the line. Thank you for warning us, Severus." He clasped his friend's hand with both of his own and shook it warmly.

"Narcissa?" Severus looked down at the witch, who had not moved from her seat. "Please, promise me you will leave Moody alone. It would not safe for any of you if you were to begin a feud there."

Narcissa looked up into her friend's gaunt face. He was tired, worried, and - was that a hint of fear? But who for? Me, Lucius, Draco, himself - or all of us? Lucius held out a hand to his wife, and she took it, rising elegantly to her feet. Her husband looked into her eyes, and she knew what she had to say. Pushing aside all her instincts as Draco's mother, she took a deep breath and tore her gaze from Lucius' grey eyes to Severus' black ones as she uttered, "I promise."

Draco's letter arrived the next morning, and it had been written so quickly that Narcissa struggled to decipher the scrawled words:

Dear Mother and Father,

The new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor is insane and attacked me, he actually attacked me, right after Potter tried to jump me! I was only defending myself, and he turned me into a ferret and smacked me into the floor and ceiling. I nearly broke all my arms and legs, and I only just survived. But it's illegal, isn't it? McGonagall said something of the sort at the time. And that riff-raff Groundskeeper has us raising blast-ended screwts. They're absolutely foul, and really dangerous. They aren't even real animals - I think the insane oaf bred them himself. We have to have them both sacked and arrested immediately. Please Father, Mother, tell me what the plan is.

Your son, Draco.

Lucius took the letter firmly away from his wife, who was wavering. "Maybe we should -" she began.

"No Narcissa. We must do nothing," Lucius said resolutely. He replied to Draco, the letter short and concise:

Draco,

The heir of the Malfoy family must carry himself with a dignity befitting his station. It does not do to alienate a powerful wizard like Alastor Moody. As for the Gamekeeper, he is beneath our notice. I am expecting you, Draco, to concentrate on your studies. Do not allow that Granger girl to beat you again in your exams this year or I will be most displeased. I expect you to use your Slytherin cunning and ambition and the good Malfoy name to cultivate useful contacts and begin to exert real influence over your peers this year. I expect all your future letters to be written with more care, both in terms of content and execution. Do not disappoint me.

Your father, Lucius.

Draco was so angry with his patents for refusing to move against Moody and Hagrid that he did not write to them again until November. Narcissa broke her husband's rule and sent Draco three letters in this time, which he obviously ignored. Then, out of the blue, a letter arrived. Narcissa almost wept with joy as she untied the scroll from Apus' leg, but was left speechless after reading it through. Oh, Draco! Where is my little boy? The letter was stiff, precise and devoid of any of his usual emotion:

Dear Father and Mother,

I have been creating useful contacts. I have been speaking with Victor Krum, the famous Quidditch player we saw at the World Cup. He's also the Durmstrang champion. Harry Potter was chosen alongside a Hufflepuff boy, Cedric Diggory, to represent Hogwarts. I have used my influence to turn the school as far as I can against Potter. I created badges which say 'Support Cedric Diggory, The Real Hogwarts Champion.' All the Slytherins are wearing them, as are many Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws.

Potter tried to attack me again outside Potions, however, his spell missed. I managed to curse the Granger girl, and caused her teeth to begin rapidly growing. Professor Snape found us and deducted fifty points from Gryffindor and gave Potter and Weasley detentions. I had no punishment. I hope this pleases you.

I have also made contact with a Daily Prophet reporter, Rita Skeeter. I know how important it is to be on the right side of the press and hope to exert my influence there.

Professor Moody is teaching us the Unforgiveable curses, he performed them in front of us on spiders and has also placed the Imperius curse on all of us. I cannot yet resist it but will keep trying. He made me confess to things I hadn't done. Is this acceptable?

I will report back on my progress with Skeeter in a few weeks' time.

Your son, Draco.

Lucius read the first half of the letter and smiled. "He's finally growing up!" he said, nodding in a satisfied way. "Good. He's cultivating press contacts, and using his influence at school. You see Narcissa, he just needed pushing and now we can see what he can achieve." His face darkened, however, as he read the last paragraph, and he looked uneasily at his wife. "Moody's punishing us..." he said slowly, "It's the reverse of what we did... we didn't confess to what we had done, and claimed it was the Imperius curse, and now he's using that curse on Draco to make him own up to things he didn't do..."

"And what is Dumbledore thinking, allowing those curses to be shown to the children? I can't say I have an issue with it per se, but for Dumbledore to agree... that's really odd. Should we be worried?" Narcissa asked.

Lucius looked down at the letter again, brow furrowed. "No," he said decisively, rolling the parchment up briskly. "It's fine. It's just for their exams, I'm sure. And Severus would say if Draco was in any real danger from Moody."

"And what about Potter?" Narcissa asked.

"What about him?" Lucius replied.

Narcissa folded her arms. "You said Draco was too young to enter the Tournament - and it's the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Luc. Tri as in three. How on earth did Potter get elected alongside Diggory and the two from the other schools?"

Lucius shrugged. "The same was he got on the Quidditch team in his first year, avoided expulsion for driving that flying car in his second year, got into Hogsmeade without permission last year and constantly gets away with playing up in Severus' classes - blatant favouritism and preferential treatment."

"But Luc, the Champions are chosen by the Goblet of Fire. If the Heads of each school chose, I'd agree with you, but how could Harry Potter, a fourth year of no considerable talent, charm an ancient powerful object like that?"

Lucius sat thinking for a moment. "You're right... he couldn't have. But Dumbledore could. Anyway." Lucius stood up and moved across the room, settling himself on the sofa beside his wife. "Narcissa," he began, in a tone which filled his wife with an ominous dread. "I need to tell you something." She nodded, and he put his left arm out in front of them, turning it over and slowly pulling back the sleeve. "It's my Mark," he said, revealing his forearm. "It's been hurting, and look, it's getting darker." Narcissa looked down, speechless. The skull and snake, which had been pale and faded for thirteen years, was now a distinct, pale red, shining on his skin.

Looking back, Narcissa found she barely remembered her day-to-day life of the next few months. She settled into her usual routine of Committee work and socialising. They were no longer writing to Severus; they had agreed it was too risky with Moody already showing an unhealthy interest in Draco and Severus to give him any further reason to suspect them of plotting dark deeds. Even Draco's letters failed to capture her attention. Draco kept up his new, stiff manner in all correspondence with his parents, reporting events with a detached air. Even the first task of the Tri-wizard Tournament sounded bland and uneventful from Draco's retellings. The papers, of course, were full of the story, and Rita Skeeter's vicious quill seemed fixated on The-Boy-Who-Lived. Lucius found the reports highly amusing, but Narcissa gave up reading the articles, feeling listless. She even missed her son's rants - Draco had not even complained about Quidditch being cancelled for the year! She was consumed with worry that her little boy was drifting away from her and shutting her out. She nearly cried when Draco said he would be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas to attend the Yule Ball. She had been expecting it, of course, but had hoped he would choose to come home instead. Lucius, however, was delighted, reading that Draco would be going with a Miss Pansy Parkinson.

"Good!" Lucius cried. "Her family's in the Scared Twenty-Eight - that would be a fine match."

Narcissa felt her heart clench. "He's far too young to be thinking about that. And he has never mentioned this girl before - it's nothing serious."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to be one of those mad mothers who automatically disapproves of any young woman her son brings home!"

Narcissa huffed, tossing her hair. "I just don't want you to keep pushing him! It's just a school dance. It's not like they're getting married!"

But Narcissa's worries over Draco were overshadowed by the more pressing problem of Lucius' Dark Mark, which was still itching and growing redder. When he had first confessed to it in November, Narcissa had convinced herself that it was a simple skin inflammation, and had ordered Ingle to buy some Dittany, but the potion did nothing to help. Over the following weeks, Lucius felt a pricking sensation and the Mark grew steadily darker. The Yule Ball at Malfoy Manor passed by again, Narcissa feeling as if she was speaking to her guests through a thick veil of worry. But the situation got worse; on Christmas evening, Lucius yelped and yanked up the sleeve of his robes.

"It feels like it's burning," he said, staring down at the pale red mark, grey eyes narrowed. Narcissa panicked, running her hands through her hair distractedly as she said,

"We should write to Severus, ask him if -" but Lucius cut his wife off, shaking his head.

"No! Not with Moody around, if he's searched Severus' office, he could also be intercepting his post. We have to be careful."

"But -"

"No Narcissa, it's probably nothing. We'll ignore it," Lucius said stubbornly, pulling his sleeve back down firmly.

Just after Christmas, Draco wrote to his parents, thanking them for his gifts, and telling them to look at the paper on a couple of days' time. 'I have managed to persuade Skeeter to write an article on the Groundskeeper. I know you said he is beneath our notice, but he was an easy target, and I feel I can build on this experience in later life.' Sure enough, Rita Skeeter had written a venomous report on Hagrid, revealing him to be a half-giant. (It was news to Narcissa that this wasn't already common knowledge.) It also featured a quote from Draco, talking about the hippogriff which had attacked him the previous year. Lucius assessed the article critically. "Not bad, for a first attempt," he said, after reading it through. "Needs some finesse, but not bad at all."

The weeks passed, and Lucius busied himself at the Ministry. He had made a new contact, Dolores Umbridge, who had risen quickly through the ranks to the position of Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic. Lucius had, at first, been put out, concerned that she may influence the Minister away from the path Lucius was carefully guiding him down. He changed his opinion immediately after meeting the woman, finding her to be a useful ally. He smirked as he told Narcissa, "She is the evilest woman I have ever met - your sister aside."

Meanwhile, Narcissa threw herself into with her work with the Committee, but all the time, at the back of her mind, was an ever increasing feeling of foreboding. Lucius' Dark Mark was growing steadily redder, and in early February, Narcissa went to Persephone and Zillah, who looked frightened, but confirmed that their husbands' Marks were also growing darker. "But what can it mean?" whispered Sephy, eyes wide. Zillah met Narcissa's gaze, and Narcissa was shocked to see her own thoughts reflected back at her: It means the Dark Lord didn't die. He's coming back.

By March, the Dark Mark on Lucius' arm was a deep, blood-red once more, as vivid as it had been at the height of the Dark Lord's power. This time, Narcissa refused to listen to Lucius' pleas that it was "nothing". She wrote to Severus, a bland, ordinary letter, but also enclosed a box of sugar quills. She wrote an additional note asking him to visit at his earliest convenience, transfiguring it into one of the sweets, and slipping it inside the box. She hoped Severus would remember how they used to use this method to conceal important messages in the days of Ophiuchus.

Severus arrived one wet evening in early April, rain glistening on the shoulders of his cloak and in his black hair, and he quickly used his wand to dry his clothes as Ingle showed him through to the drawing room.

"Severus!" Narcissa rose from her seat at the long dining table and rushed over to him, hugging him tightly. Lucius stepped forward, shaking his hand, and they all sat at the table, Ingle quickly clearing away the remains of their dinner and bringing in coffee. Narcissa asked Severus if he had eaten, and he nodded quickly before she could offer him anything.

"I cannot stay for long. I do not want the Headmaster or Moody to notice I am gone. It would raise awkward questions. I assume you wished to see me about this?" He pulled back the sleeve of his robe, exposing his forearm. His Mark was a deep blood-red, shining sickeningly against his pale skin.

"Severus!" Narcissa cried again, looking at his thin arm. "Have you lost weight again?"

"Do you really want to do this now?" Lucius drawled, looking half amused and half exasperated. Narcissa opened her mouth to argue, but Severus cut her off,

"If I promise to eat three meals a day for the rest of the week, will you let it go?"

"Deal." She reached across the table and shook his hand, earning her a half-smile from her friend. They then got down to business, Severus speaking quickly,

"Karkaroff's Mark is back too. Two people from the Ministry have disappeared - Bertha Jorkins, and Barty Crouch hasn't been seen in public since November. Someone in the school is stealing my supplies and brewing Polyjuice Potion - I did suspect Potter and his fan club, but it may be more serious than errant students wishing to impersonate one another..."

"How did Potter get his name in the Goblet of Fire, Severus? Was it Dumbledore?" Narcissa asked suddenly. Severus looked surprised.

"The Headmaster? Of course not. He would never have put the brat in for that competition. He did everything in his power to have precious Potter taken out, but to no avail. No - the general consensus is that it was a powerful Dark wizard. Moody, of course, suspected myself." His mouth curled into a twisted smile. "I have decided to take that as a compliment."

"So it must have been someone at Hogwarts or someone at the Ministry - no-one else had access to the Goblet," Lucius said thoughtfully. "What about Bagman? As the head of the main department which co-ordinated the tournament, and one of the judges, he would've had plenty of opportunity to charm the Goblet. I know he acts the fool, but he knew what he was doing when he gave that information to Rookwood back in the day. Once a gambler, always a gambler; he was hedging his bets, wanting to be thought well of by both sides so he could be sure of a welcome whatever the outcome of the war. Could it be him?"

"Possibly..." Severus mused, picking up his coffee and taking a sip. "If he is a very good Occlumens, that is. I have read him, and he is certainly pre-occupied by something... but I have not read any malicious intent there."

"And Moody? What has he been doing?" asked Lucius.

"He is more paranoid than ever. He has been performing hexes on the students, supposedly to test their defences, but I've noticed his is harder on certain children than others - Draco included." Narcissa started, beginning to rise to her feet, but Severus continued quickly, "No Narcissa, he's fine. It actually appears to have done him good; he is getting better at his defensive magic as a result." Narcissa sat back down, heart still thumping horribly as she thought of the crazed ex-Auror hexing her little boy.

Lucius spoke again, "So we have a paranoid ex-Auror, our Marks have come back and someone is determined to kill Harry Potter..."

Severus finished his coffee and stood up. "Yes," he said, answering the unspoken question. "The Dark Lord is coming back, and when he summons us, we need to be ready. I would recommend practicing Occlumency again - and if you have done anything in the last thirteen years which might displease him, such as..." He shrugged, as if searching his mind for a generic example. "...renouncing him then attempting to open the Chamber of Secrets, losing one of his most treasured possessions in the process, which was then destroyed by the very boy who broke his powers, or -" He gestured to himself "- renouncing him then working for his arch enemy for over a decade, you may need to start working on your excuses and practise begging for mercy."

Narcissa gulped as she rose from her seat, Lucius following suit. They walked silently to the door and Severus took his leave. "Good luck," Narcissa whispered as he disappeared out into the night. As they closed the front door behind him, Lucius turned to his wife, brows furrowed in thought.

"How the hell did he know, Narcissa?"

"Know what?" she asked, confused.

"The diary! How did he know we had it, how did he know what it was for, and how in Merlin's name did he know Potter destroyed it?"

Narcissa felt sick. "I didn't say anything to him, Luc - I swear! We agreed not to!"

"I'm not accusing you!" he assured her, taking her hand in his. "But Severus knows more than he's saying, Narcissa. I'm sure of it."