Narcissa Malfoy neé Black had made a promise to herself. After she had been released from Azkaban, once she could bear to look at herself in the mirror again, she had made a vow. Every morning when she woke, she would get out of bed and sit at her vanity. At first the distance at been enormous and enervating. She had dragged herself then sat because Narcissa Malfoy never broke a promise, before dragging herself back into the covers. Now she could rise and sit at the dainty table and do her hair without feeling exhausted.
Frustrated, yes. Her hands were clumsy with the silver-backed brushes. She was never convinced she looked as well coiffed or as effortlessly beautiful as she would if she had magic. Narcissa did not consider herself to be a foolish woman. She could count. But the touch of passing time had been gentle upon her until Azkaban. Now when she looked into the mirror she saw a hag; an old bent crone bereft of comfort or charm.
On the bad days when her hands shook she would return to bed and try to dream of happier times. There were little windows in her life where everything had been as it should be. She had married Lucius straight out of Hogwarts at the height of the Dark Lord's power but it hadn't been Voldemort her parents had been seeking to appease with the match. Their whole world had crumbled when Andromeda had thrown herself away on Tonks the Mudblood. Wizarding society had to be reassured the Blacks knew their proper place.
Which was a tiny house in the south of France with the remnants of her family. Narcissa tried not to think of the unpleasantnesses she had endured. Andromeda against all sense had been willing to stand surety for her with the Ministry elsewise she would have likely died in Azkaban or been immured in St Mungo's. Lucius was gone from her life but she had Draco.
Draco who was broken and shattered and she had feared past mending. When he had arrived at the cottage, her little boy had been a ghost. She had clung to him, trying to convince herself he was well and all would be well but Narcissa knew a lie when she heard it. All was not well. Lucius had sacrificed their son. Voldemort had tortured him. The Ministry had imprisoned him.
And the Mudblood brought him chocolate cake and made him watch a silly Muggle drawn-play about talking cats and he had laughed. A soft laugh easily missed but Narcissa lived her days for signs her little dragon was still alive. Draco had sat beside Theo, the boys leaning against each other, at peace together and content to stay to watch more Muggle nonsense.
Narcissa liked Theodore Nott. A sensible, quiet young man who would treat her son well. If whatever it was between them became serious, she could approve their match. Giving her consent would be easy. There were difficulties of course but nothing that could not be arranged quietly. With the right sort of witch, Narcissa could have grandchildren of her own blood. Life could be happy again.
Hermione Granger was not the right sort of witch. Andromeda thought the sun shone out of the chit's arse. She let her take darling Teddy on strolls around the village when the child's enthusiasm outwore even the most doting grandmother's verve. Narcissa was almost certain her sister would have allowed her the same privilege, almost certain, except for the Ministry's leash.
If the Mudblood had commiserated with her or expressed her sympathy, Narcissa could've hated her. But she hadn't. She had instead manipulated the goblins into helping her manoeuvre the Ministry into a position where she could dictate terms outright. It was not subtle but it was secure and after seeing her life be torn to pieces, Narcissa valued security.
So she kept her silence about the Mudblood. She would allow Draco his dalliance if it was a dalliance he wished, all the while encouraging his relationship with Theo. In time, her son would want to rejoin the wizarding world and he would leave Hermione Granger behind. There would always be gratitude for what she had done. Narcissa was not ungrateful. She never let a debt go unpaid. But nothing more. Her son would be free to take his father's place and restore the Malfoy name.
The traitorous inner voice that whispered perhaps Draco was better off not stepping into Lucius's shoes was hastily quashed. Narcissa clung to the hope that they could return to their home, to the life they had, to the traditions they had upheld, and to the peace they had enjoyed before madmen had ruined them all. She clung hard because she knew such hope was a fleeting light in the endless gloom.
Small feet thundered down the hallway then a small fist knocked loudly on her door. Narcissa made a few frantic passes with the hairbrush to look poised before rising to admit her great-nephew. He cannoned into her legs, hopped and down then babbled in a mix of French and English. This was a morning ritual to which she had adapted as against all expectation, she was rather fond of the half-blood product of her niece's folly with the werewolf.
"Is Grandmere making pancakes?" Narcissa asked. Teddy nodded, his hair going pink with delight. He held out his hand, mercifully unsticky at the moment, to escort her downstairs for breakfast. She was making an effort to teach him proper manners as the child of two war heroes would be in the public eye, and given the abysmal standards of the Prophet currently the press clearly wouldn't have any manners of their own.
Andromeda had not yet mastered the art of the crepe but her cinnamon butter was delicious and Teddy was easily distracted by his fruit salad. He always ate the banana pieces first before they went soggy then he picked through the rest hunting for blueberries. Narcissa would have scolded Draco at the same age however a busy Teddy meant a quiet Teddy.
The thunderclap of an Apparition in the back garden made both witches jump. Andromeda drew her wand. Narcissa shifted closer to her great-nephew ready to grab him and run for the cellar where her sister kept the emergency Portkey. Peeking out the kitchen window, Andromeda relaxed somewhat when she recognised the two men near her aquilegias.
"It's Dean." She told Narcissa over her shoulder then frowned slightly. "He's brought Ronald. Delightful." Andromeda had fortunately not had much experience with young love. She'd only ever had eyes for Ted. The widow considered herself fortunate as from what she'd seen between Hermione and Ron thwarted romance was tiresome.
"Not chums with the Weasleys?" Narcissa inquired without an audible hint of her contempt towards the blood-traitors.
"Arthur tinkers and Molly gossips. They're both slack, as you well know." Andromeda shot her sister a cautioning glare before she opened the kitchen door to welcome in the young man who had been with her husband when he died. She hugged him despite not being a particularly demonstrative person. "Dean, good to see you."
"You too, Andromeda." Dean reached into his pocket to unshrink a brown paper wrapped box. "I brought someone a late you-can-guess of that thing you mentioned." As the eldest child in his family, he knew the impatience of kids in the presence of anything that could remotely be a gift. He smiled when Andromeda slyly slid the box under the sink. She would give it to Teddy after breakfast.
"Have you eaten?" She asked.
"Yeah, thanks, we had a big spread at mum's." Ron cut in before Dean could keep nattering. "We're here officially, Mrs Tonks. Where's Hermione and the Snakes?"
Andromeda didn't have a particular grudge against Ronald Weasley. She found him lazy, which irritated her as she knew he had a good head on his shoulders. He rarely could be bothered making the effort, content to have Hermione do the thinking for him. Too much like Arthur, who let Molly rule the roost in favour of playing with his Muggle gadgets. That said, his casual slur annoyed her. Some of Hermione's simmering resentment had rubbed off on her hostess so Andromeda answered with a touch of venom.
"They had a late night. They're still in bed." Innocent words with just a hint of a smile as though she was amused by a youthful indiscretion. She had been a Slytherin, after all. A happy marriage with a Hufflepuff hadn't blunted her fangs. "Mind the pan, Dean. I'll roust them up."
Andromeda sauntered out of the kitchen. Naturally Ronald followed her because his mother had never had the time to instruct him on the rudiments of comportment. Nymphadora had rolled her eyes and wilfully rearranged the cutlery but she had made an effort on special occasions. She wouldn't have tried to sticky-beak into an ex's bedroom.
The attic stairs were down. Andromeda climbed up far enough to pop her head above floor level. She doubted there were any goings-on going on as Hermione had more sense than that and the boys would've done their elders the courtesy of broaching the subject prior to any indiscretion. However, half-way up the ladder meant she blocked Auror Weasley's view completely.
"Good morning." Andromeda hailed the somnolent trio sprawled amongst the cushions. "Breakfast is ready. Dean and Ronald are here too." She cautioned as Hermione sat up, her hair a chaotic nimbus. Draco buried his face in a pillow while Theo shifted into the warm spot the witch vacated. "Officially, I believe."
"Hermione, I want to talk to you." Ron called up. "It's Auror business, no mucking about."
"The French Ministry was supposed to tell us if you were coming." The expression on the Muggle-born witch's face was belligerent as she stomped to the top of the ladder and glared down. "We've just woken up."
"Are those bastards up there with you?" He demanded, unpleasantly surprised. "What the Hell are they doing in your room?"
"Having a lie in, obviously." Hermione was itchy from sleeping in yesterday's clothes and muzzy from sudden awakening. If Ron and Dean had come unannounced, something was clearly amiss. She reviewed every suspect thing she had done in the last fortnight. Nothing actionable. Gringotts was within their rights to supervise the opening of any vault and their de facto endorsement of her blood ritual made the procedure legal. She'd possibly broken Muggle laws on money laundering, unavoidable considering she absolutely could not tell the truth about where the money came from, but that wouldn't bring Ron to her door.
"We're here for an inspection." Ron shouted up, his face going red at the implication of her words. He told himself he wasn't going to go spare. He didn't honestly think Hermione would consort with the enemy, even if he could see almost all of her bare legs as she climbed down the ladder. Mrs Tonks stepped out of the way while giving him a dirty look. "You've been hiding out here for months. That's suspicious."
"Of course it is. Why would anyone want to stay at a peaceful cottage in the south of France within walking distance of the Mediterranean?" Her sarcasm was waking up faster than her discretion. Hermione bit her lip before more sass could escape. "Fine. Right, what do you and Dean need to inspect?"
"Living conditions. Security. The prisoners." He said mulishly, not liking the feeling of being in the wrong. When Harry had seen Hermione's name come up on the roster he'd been reluctant to go. He hadn't wanted to quarrel with her. Ron didn't want to quarrel with her either but he did want to talk. Somewhere without Slytherins looking at him down their noses.
"Parolees." Hermione corrected. "Theo and Draco aren't prisoners any more."
"Theo and Draco." Ron mimicked her voice snidely. "Very chummy."
"That's right, Ronald." She spoke with exaggerated care. "I am on first name terms with my Ministry mandated slaves. We are having a lovely time enjoying our holiday while I savour unemployment and they recover from malnutrition."
"That's not my bloody fault!" He snapped, recognising one of her rants when it started. She'd harangue at the flick of a wand now, bending ears all over the Ministry. Ron was a bit fed up of her lumping him in with the duffers who'd let Malfoy, Nott, and the like out of Azkaban. "You quit. Damn near hexed Runcorn on the way out as I heard it."
"He was lucky he didn't end up as a sea urchin like Thicknesse." Hermione hissed. Had she not been concentrating so hard on leaving with dignity, she would've gone postal and left a trail of invertebrates in her wake.
"You've proven your point. Why don't you come back? You could transfer to the DMLE and change the law that way." Ron coaxed. It'd be like old times, the three of them together battling the forces of evil. Only this time victory demanded paperwork. "You'd soon have them running on schedule."
"They late with your pay-checks again?" She asked, caught by his grumble. Ron would hate to be thought of as a penny-pincher. Discussing money embarrassed him, a hangover from his childhood. He would never whinge to his bosses about the delays with his salary. Hermione frowned at his shrug. "It took them weeks to get the money to everyone. Neville said he put his name down on the 'no hurry' list and they've still not caught up on his wages."
"I'm only fussed because I'm helping Mum out with the Burrow." He tried to soothe. Rebuilding their home was more expensive than his parents had anticipated. Building supplies were scarce even with magic and some things couldn't be duplicated or Transfigured. No one wanted their house to fall down with a miscast Finite.
"I'll sort it out." Hermione took a deep breath. Yes, she would sort this. She had a list. Mentally shifting 'make sure everyone gets paid' to the top, she smiled. "Anything else you need?"
Ron was sufficiently unnerved by her expression that he decided to defer their chat. Whatever she was plotting, it wasn't good. He could see now why Harry had wanted to avoid their friend. Hermione was fixing to light a firecracker under someone's arse and the BANG would be stupendous. So Auror Weasley ate breakfast with the Tonks, the Malfoys and Nott while glaring at the latter two.
He did his damn inspection of the premises while Dean played on the floor with Teddy and his new Star Wars Lego. Thomas put his professional hat on to interrogate the Ferret and Nott, as he considered them flight risks. Ron was sure Hermione had a good hold on their leash and was uncomfortable with the images that put in his head. She was sitting at the kitchen table making notes, still smiling, when he marched in.
"Did you coach them what to say?" Ron wasn't stupid. Nott and Malfoy had used different words but they had said the same thing; they appreciated the opportunity the Ministry had given them to see the error of their ways. A flock of dragons couldn't produce enough crap to out stink that bilge. "You did, didn't you?"
"Not at all." Hermione put her pen down, regarding him with her well-honed business face. "Draco and Theo have realised how confined their world was and want to broaden their horizons." She quoted the IMP. Ron didn't recognise the source. "We've had such fun. Who wouldn't want to bind their magic in exchange for picnics and lovely excursions to the beach?"
"Hermione." He knew she was taking the piss now. "They're not worth the sort of trouble cocking a snook the Ministry will get you."
"No one is." She said quietly. "That's the problem. Dirk Cresswell was hauled out of the Ministry in front of hundreds of people and no one said a damn thing. It's so easy to convince ourselves that strangers aren't worth the risk." Hermione didn't shout or point her finger or gnash her teeth but she was implacable. "So I am doing things because no one else will. Because I can."