Narcissa Malfoy was in her sitting room, a forgotten elevenses consisting of a tepid cup of tea and crumpets next to her, when she heard the distinct tread of her husband's footsteps in the hallway just before he rapped twice and opened her door.
She didn't bother looking up as he strode around the room, her attention focused on the household accounts in front of her. "Have you seen the price of tortoiseshell? It's skyrocketed." She shook her head as she made a mark on the page. "It's all to do with the Pelagia Wars. Say what you want about Albus Dumbledore, but at least he managed to speak to the merfolk when they raised a fuss."
Since that was a subject always guaranteed to stop her husband in his steps and start spewing facts, she was startled when he didn't rise to the bait. When Narcissa looked up, it was to find Lucius standing in front of her south-facing window, lifting a section of the curtains to peer out from the side.
His actions were so surreptitious she stopped what she was doing. "Lucius, what are you doing? Has the gardener scared you again? Must I have a word with him?"
If there was a slight bite in her voice, she considered it necessary. When would her husband grow up and stop his infernal scheming and paranoia? She chalked it up to his never having to work a day in his life. All the household finances were handled by her alone, which left him with entirely too much time on his hands after his "consultancy" at the Ministry ended a decade ago. He needed to find a new hobby, or else he'd drive her mad.
She'd only just seen him at breakfast when he'd talked about collecting runic friezes to display around the house. Apparently he'd read in the Quibbler that there was evidence they brought good fortune to the family. Only after she'd told him to find ten different sources in their library to substantiate this new finding did he scuttle off to his study and leave her in peace.
Now it was barely one o'clock, hardly even time for lunch, and here he was again, no doubt to natter on about another scheme.
Narcissa thought she'd been a very patient wife indeed.
She'd followed his lead when it came to Draco's marital prospects, and of course that had ended up being a dismal failure. Whatever happened in Egypt had made both the men clam up entirely. Fortunately she'd been spared any more father-son squabbles in the interim. It was time for proactive thinking.
It was time now for one of her ideas.
As she rose from her sitting table, her spine was plumb-line straight as she flicked her wand, clearing the table. "I've been thinking of hosting a fête here at the manor. Not a big fancy do. A small one, just to test the waters. Really, this Egypt trip has given us a marvelous opening for inviting that Potter boy and—" She was bracing herself for her husband's reaction even before she'd said the word, but she'd been through worse tirades. "The Weasleys. They're simply everywhere now. One can't keep avoiding them forever."
Instead of a rant, Lucius turned a glowing, gloating face on Narcissa. "Fantastic idea."
He was acting so peculiarly and out of character she turned a skeptical face on him. "Are you quite alright, Lucius? You're behaving so oddly."
"Remember that idea we had for Draco marrying a Halfblood?" Lucius said instead, cutting her off.
She was caught off guard by the quick change in subject. "Yes, but he wasn't too keen on that idea, and frankly I'd rather not risk the magical dilution."
Like Lucius, Narcissa was a traditionalist. She didn't much like how the world was changing, but only a fool continued to bemoan the inevitable. They'd wanted to plan out their son's life as they had even before he was born, but Draco's recent behaviour reeked of adolescent rebellion. It was foolhardy to center their plans on him with how he was acting.
In any event, Draco's hardline stance against Halfbloods was reassuring to her. It wasn't like she wanted him to be with a Halfblood. Honestly what had Lucius been thinking to even consider that plan? It was something else he'd read in the Quibbler, she'd wager the month's household expenses on that.
On Blaise's yacht, she'd thought that there had been...something between Draco and that Granger girl, but since then she'd monitored the influx and outflow of owls, and there simply hadn't been any chicanery in that direction. On top of which, Draco's recent behavior was decidedly not of someone who was in a relationship. For one thing, he hadn't left the manor once since he'd returned.
As though Narcissa had spoken her thoughts aloud, Lucius said casually, letting the curtains drop, "That Granger chit was just here."
"Oh yes? And did you invite her to stay for lunch?"
Lucius scoffed. "What? Of course not. She came to tally up her expenses from that Egypt trip. So vulgar."
"Vulgar or not," Narcissa said firmly, "she did save both of you, so lunch is the least we could do. I'm reasonably certain you owe her a life debt, though neither of you will tell me anything about what happened in Egypt."
"The less said the better," Lucius said darkly. He was sulking, and Narcissa decided to ignore him.
"And I did find that she's turned out to be quite personable. I think she's grown into her looks. I remember she used to be such a rabbity sort of creature, very twitchy and anxious. She's developed poise, I think."
As she spoke, she felt her husband's eyes on her, his expression like he'd either smelled something ghastly or she'd developed horns on her head. "Good God, Narcissa, are you actually considering allying my name with that of a Muggleborn?"
"I've allied myself with worse," Narcissa replied, giving him a pointed look. "Or do you not recall how my parents wished for me to contract with the Selwyns?"
Lucius made a sound between a growl and a spit. She ignored that too. "It'll do no harm to encourage friendship between that pair. It'll all come to nothing, of course, because if I know my son—and I do—then—"
"Oh you're always so clever," Lucius cut in. "I'll have you know that your son—whom you know so well—has just run off with said Muggleborn witch."
"What?" Narcissa had been in the middle of sitting down, and now she rose so swiftly her knees jostled painfully against the side of the table. The sound she'd emitted was even less tranquil, being a squawk that she'd not let leave her mouth since she was a child.
A smirk danced on Lucius's smug features. "Oh, but I scared her. It's all being taken care of. I'll roust that little pretender in no time."
"Are you mad?" Narcissa asked, no less appeased. "You? Scare that witch? She hasn't the wherewithal to be scared. She fought with Potter up until the bitter end, and she went off to Egypt by herself. And didn't she face down an entire militia of witches to rescue Draco? Why on earth would you imagine her to be scared of you?"
The expression on Lucius's face would have been comical had Narcissa not been so impatient with him. He looked as though he'd been forced to swallow a frog whole and was just contemplating how slimy it'd been and whether or not he regretted the enterprise.
Narcissa lifted a hand to her brow. "Oh dear. You must simply stay out of this. Don't you know we owe her a double Life Debt now, you foolish man? One can only hope that she's just...dallying with Draco and will move on to greener pastures."
"Greener than our son? Have you forgotten who he is? He's the heir to a fortune!"
"—And if the newspapers are right, her last relationship was with that Weasley boy, who no one would call wealthy. Let's just hope she prefers them dirt-poor."
Husband and wife stared at each other in dismay for a few seconds before Lucius rallied first. "Well," he said, his voice filled with determination to be optimistic. "On the bright side, this does wonders in raising our social standing—what with the preposterous state of affairs in the world now."
"We should have moved to France like I suggested years ago."
"I don't like France," Lucius growled. "Their Ministry is even more inept and inefficient, as if that could be possible."
"At least we have family there, which is more than could be said for here." Narcissa relented and waved her hand. "Well, it's really not the worst thing to happen. I'm told that witches don't marry the first wizard that courts them now, strange as that may be."
"And possibly Draco will be such a terrible date that she'll give up on him soon enough." Lucius looked decidedly happier.
"We can only hope, dear," Narcissa said. "He's an awfully handsome boy though."
"That he gets from my side of the family."
Narcissa couldn't help rolling her eyes at that.
"So I suppose we'll just play it by ear then?"
"As we have been, dear. As we have been."
fin
So much love and thanks go to disenchantedglow who has been an unbelievable friend, cheerleader, brainstormer, alphabeta throughout the majority of writing this. After she stepped up to help, the writing of this has been so much easier and quicker. She's da queen!
As for this story, it's finally finished! I didn't think I'd see this day, but it feels unbelievable that it's completed. It ballooned from a small rom-com based on the bw movie It Happened One Night to a rollercoaster adventure of international intrigue, and that was really thanks to the reviewers at ffn where I initially posted this for their fantastic suggestions when I had no idea how the plot was going to go. Hopefully it was all somewhat coherent.
At one point, I had toyed with the idea to bring our feckless duo to another country and continue with their travelling adventures, but I'm the world's slowest writer, so I'll have to leave that to your imaginations as to what happens with them next. I hope you enjoyed this story. It's probably not the usual alpha Draco story that most people (me too, sometimes) like to read, but I wanted to write something that the feminist in me strongly encouraged, where Hermione the heroine saves our hero time and again. Thanks for sticking by me and reading this story to the end!