Disclaimer: I own nothing. Least of all this.

10) PLAYING WITH THE BIG BOYS NOW

Accompanying Song: "Playing With The Big Boys Now" by Steve Martin & Martin Short

"So."

Mrs. Tonks' voice could've frozen the Sahara. "My daughter tells me you have entered a business relationship with a demon. Is this correct?"

"Umm...yes?"

"And she has also told me that this demon betrayed you to his fellows; leading to the failure of security in this house, as well as her possession. Is this correct as well?"

"...Yes ma'am."

"Whereupon you allowed yourself to be shot in order to save my daughter's life."

"...I'm sorry, was that last one a question?"

"No, Mister Potter. It was not. There is no doubt in my mind that such an event took place. The Potters were never the sort to get shot accidentally, but they have and always will be self-sacrificing fools."

"Now wait just a damned minute! I…!"

"I am not finished, Mister Potter."

He swallowed, and sat down again.

"However...it appears you have inherited at least a little of the Black characteristics as well. Not only have you taken steps to protect your secrets with a contract form obtained from the Black library, you were also smart enough not to try and exorcise the demon. Most fools would have tried and failed; such rituals inevitably require quite a long amount of time. There is but one question I have left:"

Her eyes narrowed as she leaned forward to gaze into his soul. "How is it you knew the Killing Curse would leave my daughter intact? Such knowledge is beyond even that of the Blacks; how did you manage to come by it?"

A cliff on both sides; the only choice now was which direction would be the least painful to jump. "...Would you like the edited version, or the version I can tell you after you sign the contract?"

"The shortened version will suffice. For now. If my concerns remain, I may consider the other. Begin."

And so he did.

"...Death."

"Yes Mrs. Tonks."

"Death told you it would work."

"Errrr...he owed me a favor?"

She just looked at him. "Death owes no one, Mister Potter. It is he who is owed by us. Try again."

"Alright, fine; I took a bribe from him, okay?" He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Death wants me to do something for him in the future; something I don't think I can tell you about without the contract."

Balancing the universe was a heavy-duty subject; he didn't want to take the chance it fell under 'Secrets Not To Be Revealed'.

"Let's just say Death's had a vested interest in keeping me alive since I was a kid, and leave it at that."

Her eyes bored into his for what seemed an eternity, before she finally nodded and leaned back. "I highly doubt a Potter would be felled by a single bullet, no matter how well-aimed. I used to blame survival of such incidents on your family's luck; I am relieved to know there is indeed a higher power responsible. Especially considering it means your survival of the irate Miss Granger is much more likely. I would so hate for my own Nymphadora to be left disappointed."

"So would I...wait; just how mad is Hermione, exactly?"

"Exceedingly. In fact, it's the only reason I was willing to let you off easy; fending off one infuriated witch at a time is more than enough punishment."

He shuddered. Visions of spells and guns danced in his head.

"So know this, Mister Potter: I am going to be watching both you and everyone else in this house very closely from now on. There are far worse things in this world than mere demons,and the Black family has dealt with most of them at one time or another. If another incident like this occurs, I shall be moving in to...supervise. Am I clear?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Good." She smiled, and the room lost the shadowy tint it had slowly been gaining. "And there's no need to call me ma'am, Mister Potter; or Mrs. Tonks, for that matter. I'm well aware of Nymphadora's feelings on the subject of her name; I shan't ask you to call her something besides Tonks while I am present. Andromeda will do, or Andy if you so prefer."

"...I think I better stick to the first one. And you could call me Harry, you know."

"I could've. But I doubt it would've been as intimidating. Now, is it true that you've been named Head of House Black, and that you were able to silence my unlamented aunt?"

"Yes to the first, and yes to the second, provided she gets to see both you and Ted at some point."

"Why in Merlin's name would she ever want that?"

"She found out what Moldy-Shorts did to survive that Halloween, and how her youngest son sacrificed himself so he couldn't do it again."

"...Regulus betrayed the Dark Lord?"

"Yes."

"...Why?"

"That's Kreacher's story to tell."

"Then I shall find him and ask. And then I suppose I had better see to my aunt."

"You could stay for breakfast, first."

"Stay for breakfast? How forward of you, Harry."

"Ted's a lucky man, and he knows it. If he ever forgets, I'll be happy to remind him. Tonks obviously gets her looks from your side of the family."

"Well, after a compliment like that, how could I say no to some good bangers and eggs?"

Dobby materialized next to Andromeda. "Nos bangers this mornings, Mrs. Andy Romeda Ma'am. Great Harry Potter Sirs' be orderings rashers of bacon for everyone, and its beings Her Owliness' favorite treat."

Andromeda raised a single eyebrow. "Her Owliness?"

"I'm gonna guess that's Hedwig."

The eyebrow stayed up.

"My familiar."

"Ah. Was always more of a cat person, myself."

"Black of course?"

"Naturally."

"You'll be pleased to hear my Animagus form is a black panther, then."

"Very pleased. It's been too long since we had a Bagheera in the family."

He groaned. "You too?"

"Kipling was…"

"I know, I know. Sirius told me."

"You know, Grandfather Arcturus almost chose one of Kipling's lines for the family motto. He was never that keen on French, but in the end, Toujours Pur won out."

"Of course it did. What was the line?"

"Lex Truncatis. The Law of the Jungle."

The next line slipped out without thinking. "As old and as true as the sky."

Andromeda grinned and rolled with it. "The wolf that will keep it shall prosper."

"But the wolf that will break it shall die."

"Like the creeper that girdeth the tree trunk…"

"The law runneth over and back."

"The strength of the pack is the wolf…"

They finished together. "And the strength of the wolf is the pack."

Oh how he loved that book. "I might just have to change the motto, then. Considering every other important member of the family would prefer Kipling to the other one. Speaking of, any reason you or Ted might not want me to add your names back on the Tapestry?"

"No; but if we think of one, we'll let you know. Mmm…this bacon is excellent. My compliments to your house elf."

Dobby popped back over. "Dobbys beings thankings Mrs. Andy Romeda Ma'am."

"You are very welcome then, Dobby."

"Welcome! Yous' sayings Dobby is welcome! Mrs. Andy Romeda is great witch indeed!"

The elf popped away, to be replaced by an absolute mountain of bacon on the table.

"...Is he always like that?"

"More or less. Dig in."

"Thank you, but no. I'm afraid St. Mungos awaits, and if I avoid talking any longer to Aunt Walburga I will most definitely be late. Take care of yourself, Harry. And of everyone else."

"I'll try."

He could hear the whoosh of Floo flames as Andromeda departed; somehow, he'd managed to survive.

Now if he could just keep on doing it once Hermione showed up.

Pop!

"Kreacher's beings impressed. Second-Greatest Master is still alive. But he's be keepings the coffin ready; Master's Mudblood beings on hers way down."

Ah crap. "Nice to know you care, Kreacher. Oh, and no more calling people mudblood or blood traitors. Use an insult too many times and it just loses its punch, you know?"

Actually, he was just trying to avoid any amount of Hermione's temper that he could. But Kreacher didn't need to know that.

"Kreachers' beings comings up with new insults then, Master."

"Good." If only there was something he could bribe Hermione with… "Don't suppose the Blacks happen to have an early edition of Hogwarts: A History, do they?"

"We's be havings one, Master; but only Blacks by bloods beings able to touch it."

"Damn."

The kitchen door burst open.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! WHAT IN MERLIN'S NAME WERE YOU THINKING?! THE COLT?! THE COLT?! HOW THE HELL DID YOU EVEN THINK YOU'D COME BACK FROM THAT?! AND AN UNFORGIVABLE? YOU'RE LUCKY I DON'T CHUCK YOU IN AZKABAN MYSELF!"

It was gonna be a long day.

Apparently, after coming down and finding Ginny passed out on top of me, Hermione had gone back to stay with Tonks for the night.

Moody had chased her and Gin out before Tonks could explain much of anything; but once the morning rolled around…

He was just glad Gin wasn't up yet to read him the riot act as well.

He ended up telling Hermione everything; about the Horcruxes, the Supernatural books, the Apocalypse...and the Hallows. What else could he have done? She punched, and kicked, and yelled, and that was before they even got through the half of it. When at last it was all out in the open, Hermione slid into a chair looking just...drained.

"I thought you trusted me, Harry."

"I do!"

"Then why?" She looked so lost. "Why didn't you tell us? About any of it?"

"Because…" he hung his head in shame. "Because I didn't want you to worry. Because I knew there was only one way to get that soul off of mine, and I knew none of you would ever let me do it."

"No. We wouldn't."

She crossed her arms on the table and let her head come down to rest on them. "But I can't blame you. If Tonks had known about the Horcrux, Ruby would've learned too. And she would've told Alistair. Who would've shot you twice just to make sure."

"Although," she lifted her head to glare at him, "You might would have survived even that, if Death wants you alive that badly. What I'm still mad about is the goddamn Unforgivable!"

"I know. And if I weren't an official Ministry employee that could legally get away with it, it never would've crossed my mind. I would've freed Mad-Eye and Crowley, fought Alistair, and shouted out that the Killing Curse would work."

"...Harry, that is a shit plan."

"Hermione! Language!"

"Oh shut it you! As if you don't bloody swear enough for the both of us…"

"Exactly! It's my thing! You can't be stealing it!"

"Can't?"

"Err...please?"

"Much better. Now, I realize you've shared quite a lot of Dean Winchester's secrets with me and the others. And I also realize that we've not really reciprocated that. But Harry...I'd like to know your secrets. You're one of the most important people in my life; I'd like to think we'd trust each other even without a contract."

She was right. He'd like to think that too. "...I used to be good at maths."

"Pardon?"

"Maths. In primary school; before Hogwarts. Dudley used to make me do his homework; it was either get good at it or pay up."

"Pay up? With what?"

"Blood, usually."

"Oh Harry."

"I know, I know. Still, it could've been worse. At least I've still got all my teeth."

She laughed. "And thank goodness for that. Although, if you'd had to get replacements, you might 've ended up at my parents' office and we could've met years ago."

"Would've been worth it. Your parents; Dan and Emma, right?"

"You remembered!"

"I tried. Where's their office?"

"Wimbledon."

"...Well that explains how you managed to convert enough cash into galleons for all those books. Looks like I'm gonna have to pick myself up an Armani if I want to avoid making an even worse impression than I did the first time I met them."

"Harry! That's very shallow of you!"

"What? They're your parents; what's wrong with looking my best when meeting them?"

She blushed, but kept on. "Harry, my parents are nice, quiet people who enjoy what they do; the money's just a nice side bonus. I'm sure they thought you were a perfectly nice young boy, if a little bit shy."

"I was wearing Dudley's throwaways, Hermione; I wasn't shy. I was embarrassed."

"...Oh."

"Ergo, Armani. Or whatever the guy at Harrods recommends."

"Oh no you don't; we'll be the ones who decide what you buy."

"Who's we?"

"The people smart enough not to wear flannel all times of the year: Tonks, Gin, and myself."

"I still say you'd all look bloody good in plaid…"

"Harry, if you saw us all in flannel, you wouldn't survive the nosebleed."

"...Touche. As the Princess commands, then."

"Darn right. Oh!"

Hermione reached down and pulled out a long strip of parchment. "The contract for Narcissa. I went ahead and added in a sub-clause for Draco if she won't sign without him."

"Hermione, you're the best."

"Don't I know it." She replied smugly. "Now, since Tonks is still feeling a bit under the weather, you're going to have another escort to replace her."

Ho boy. "...Who?"

"Me, of course! I'll take some of that Aging Potion, and come along with you!"

"...Hermione, aren't you forgetting something?"

A frown creased her mouth. "I don't think so…"

"Underage magic? If we get into a...situation...I don't want things to turn out even worse for you."

"Harry, if we're drawing wands in Gringotts, we have more things to worry about than the Ministry. Namely, the Goblins. Who, need I remind you, have the right to execute anyone who does so inside Gringotts."

"True. But I still don't like it. I know how it feels to fight in a bigger body; you don't."

"Tonks picked up that really nice enchanted baton yesterday to use if she needed to protect you in Goblin territory; I could Polyjuice into her and take it with me. It would explain the clumsiness, too."

"Hmm...not a bad idea. And Tonks isn't due at the Ministry today, since she's working a 3-3-4-4. I suppose you can ask; but I think I better ask Mad-Eye along too. He can cover for you if 'Tonks' doesn't know anything she should."

"Now that's what I call a plan. I'll go ask Tonks to borrow her stuff; you get Ginny up and explain things. By the way; amazing breakfast, Harry."

"I'd take credit, but I paid Dobby to cook." Well, allowed with unrelated benefits.

"An acceptable amount, I hope."

"Somewhere around thirty Galleons." At least, that's what he thought the elf's knife would end up being worth.

"Good. I'll be right back."

He watched her go with a smile on his lips. Damn, but she was awesome.

Now, to go wake up the only other awesome person in the house still asleep.

Moody held out his hands to the two teenagers. "Ready?"

He nodded. "Ready."

Hermione in the form of Tonks also nodded. "Let's go."

"Right then."

And with a crack, they Disapparated.

He immediately stumbled, feeling like his stomach was turning inside out. "Oh God...never gonna get used to that."

'Tonks' was looking queasy as well; then her face shifted tones to hide the green. "I likely never will either; but it is nice to be able to change your face to cover it up."

Wheels began to turn in his mind. "So; Polyjuicing into a Metamorph gives you the same powers."

"A slightly lesser form I think, but yes."

"Good to know. Alright; lead the way Mad-Eye."

"As his majesty pleases." the ex-Auror grumbled, then shambled off in the direction of the bank.

"You know, I did some reading on how magical wills work…"

Of course she did.

"...And it's actually quite fascinating. Since wizards ceded all control of their wealth to the goblins, Gringotts is directly responsible for that portion of inheritances. But since the Ministry technically never ceded control of real estate, and Gringotts is forbidden from performing identity tests using wizarding blood, a Ministry official is required to be present wherever a transaction of land occurs.

"Well, since all I'm getting from Malfoy is the gold, I very much doubt there'll be any other Ministry stooges around today."

(He really should've known to keep his mouth shut.)

They made it through the front gates without any trouble.

They made it all the way down the corridor they were directed to without any trouble either.

It was only when they opened the door to the will-reading room that Fate decided to play her hand.

The goblin on guard snarled. "Only those mentioned in the will are allowed in."

"Is that so?" drawled Mad-Eye. "Then why is it that you just let Rufus Scrimgeour and Pius Thicnesse through; two people I'm quite sure ain't related to the Malfoys, in any way,?

"They are Ministry personnel." sneered the goblin. "They are required for the transaction."

"Well...in case it escaped your notice...the lass and I are also Ministry personnel. Show 'im, Auror Tonks."

'Tonks' grinned. "With pleasure, Auror Moody."

Two badges flashed in the goblin's face. True, only one of them was currently active, and even then the wrong person was holding it, but they did the trick. The goblin let them through with one final grimace and glare.

"Fair warning;" he whispered to his two compatriots as they went in, "I'm pretty sure Thicnesse is on Riddle's take."

"Of bloody course he is." Moody groused. "Bloody Director of the Bloody Department of Line Continuation; and I mean that literally. Leave him to me, lad; I'll enjoy smacking him down if he gets too...uppity…Merlins' saggy bollocks…"

"What?"

"That ain't just any old goblin up there reading the will, lad;' Moody swallowed, "That's the bloody Ragnok hisself."

"...Aw hell."

Why didn't he expect this? Bill and Fleur had outright told him how interested Gringotts was in Dean Winchester; he should've known they'd put their top man on the case.

Or, rather, top goblin.

Right; he was gonna ignore that for now. There were other things he should be concerned about. To start with, if the Ragnok was here, he (it?) was bound to have guards. Harry counted four; one at each corner of the room. And what a four they were.

'Tank' was the only word that came to mind; if he didn't already know what a troll was, he would've mistaken the guards for them in a heartbeat. Not extremely tall (well, except for a goblin), but heavily armored. And armed.

He would bet dollars to donuts there were more where they came from. And that they were probably nothing more than a distraction from whatever other security Gringotts might have (the dragons from the seventh book came to mind).

With a shiver, he turned his attention to the other occupants of the room.

Mrs. Malfoy was there; naturally. What wasn't natural was Draco's absence. Something told him the ferret not being there was extremely important, but until he got more to go on, he wouldn't speculate. The two Ministry stooges were conversing together; he barely resisted the urge to glare in their direction. Although Scrimgeour had managed to hold off the Death Eaters for a while, the dude still reminded him too much of Hendrickson, the former FBI agent assigned to him and Sam.

Come to think of it, they both ended up dying to the 'big bad'; Lilith, in Hendrickson's case, and Riddle in Scrimgeour's. Maybe he at least owed the Auror a chance of survival. He'd think about it.

It was the room's last occupant that grabbed his gaze and held it fast.

"Hello Luna."

"Hello Dean. I heard you get Alistair; I'm sorry about Ruby."

"S'alright Luna. Next time, right?"

"Maybe. Then again, maybe not. Hello Tonks."

Hermione started. "...Wotcher? Have we met?"

Luna frowned. "...No, I don't think so. But we will!"

"We will?"

The blonde nodded. "When you introduce us!"

"When I…" He could practically see the short circuits in his friend's head.

"Don't worry about it;" he whispered. "Just don't bust a blood vessel trying to figure it out, and you and Luna'll get along fine.'

Hermione arched an eyebrow. "Sure of that, are you?"

"One should never be sure of anything." interjected Luna. "One minute you're sure, the next everybody turns into lizards and a piano falls on your head."

Hermione gaped. "...A piano?"

Luna nodded. "It was a long day."

Any further conversion was immediately halted by the Ragnok whacking what appeared to be a solid diamond hammer against a table that had up till then not been in the room. Great; more enchantments.

"The Will Reading of the Late Lucius Malfoy, Esquire is now in session. Be seated."

With a glance to either side to make sure Moody and 'Tonks' had a place as well, he did so.

"The identities of every mentioned party will now be verified. Mister Thicnesse, produce the items."

The grin on the wizard's face could be described as nothing less than malicious. "Of course, Master Goblin…"

First, out came a vaguely new-looking piece of parchment. Then…

A brand spanking new Blood Quill, still in it's transparent wrapper.

His stomach hit his boot-heels.

The Ragnok gave a wolf-ish grin. "Every concerned party will now sign the Ministry's lie detection parchment."

Inwardly he breathed a sigh of relief. If it was supplied by the Ministry, then he shouldn't have any more trouble than he did with their defendant's chair.

"Objection!"

What the...why was Narcissa Malfoy objecting?

"The only time proof of identity is required is when the transfer of property is taking place. And I know for a fact at least one of us," for some reason she looked sadly at Harry here, "Will not be receiving Malfoy Manor today."

"Ah," sleazed Thicnesse, "But Gringotts can request verification from the Ministry in other matters of inheritance; and Gringotts has, in fact, done so. Sign, Lady Malfoy."

With a sniff, Mrs. (or Lady) Malfoy did so. She then passed it on to her left; to Luna. The young girl signed as well, then passed both Quill and parchment down to 'Tonks'.

Hermione scanned the document; and then, after it apparently met her approval, she passed it on to Harry.

Pretty simple; 'prove you are who you say you are by signing below'. But just as he was about to sign, a thought occurred to him.

"Will these items be destroyed afterwards?"

"They will be taken back to the Ministry and disposed of, yes." Thicnesse chuckled.

He dropped the Quill on the table and leaned back. "No."

"...I beg your pardon?"

"Beg all you want. These things get torched here, the second we're done with them."

"I can assure you Mister Winchester, this is the correct procedure."

"Assure away; I know damn well what you can do with someone else's blood. And there's plenty of people I can think of with a reason to try."

Scrimgeour gasped. "Mister Winchester, I don't know where you come from, but around here, such rituals are illegal."

"And that stops people from doing them how?"

The Auror spluttered.

Once again, Narcissa Malfoy cut in. "I quite agree with Mister Winchester; there are quite a few parties I can think of who would like to see harm to one or all of this reading's participants. Please perform the destruction of the artifacts here. Or I suspect Mister Winchester will do it himself."

"But...but…" Thicnesse grasped for a rebuttal, and then found one. "We cannot incinerate them here! We cannot draw our wands to do so!"

CLINK!

Everyone turned to stare at him...and the lighter he'd just dropped on the table (thank you Weasley twins). "Who needs a wand? Do it; or I will."

Thicnesse drew himself up to his full (sitting) height, and then abruptly relaxed. "Very well; sign, and I shall certify it as a Ministry-officated destruction."

He signed...and then slid the parchment, Quill, and lighter across to Scrimgeour. "You do it."

"Why me?"

"Because I trust the Aurors a fair bit more than I trust anyone else in the Ministry. Or, more accurately, I trust your boss. And as you can see," he gestured to either side of him, "I have ways of finding out if someone's stabbed me in the back."

Scrimgeour gulped, and then picked up the parchment. "...Everything seems to be in order. No forgeries detected. How do I…?"

"Flick open the top, and push and hold the knob next to the hole in the middle."

"You mean like...ah. There we go."

The offending objects were reduced to dust. The Ragnok raised a single claw, and the remains vanished utterly. "Now begins the reading."

Here the Ragnok produced another piece of parchment and began to read:

"I, Lucius Malfoy, being of sound mind and body, do hereby relay my last will and testament. My dearest Narcissa: If you are reading this, or, rather, hearing it, know that this eventuality has been planned for."

Lady Malfoy stiffened.

"It was not entirely absent from the realm of possibility that my Master would return; nor that, upon doing so, he would blame both I and my House for not standing firm and joining his other servants in Azkaban. Certain recent events of which you are aware will no doubt exacerbate the situation should this occur; I have no doubt my gold will be all that keeps me in my master's good graces, should he in fact possess any. If he does not, and my death leaves both you and Draco bereft, know that I have taken steps to ensure your safety, and the safety of the Malfoy line. To you, I leave Malfoy Manor and all my other physical holdings, to be held in trust for Draco until the day of his majority.

My son, Draco: I would like to think that you shall miss me. However, having watched you grow, I feel I am correct in assuming you will miss my influence at Hogwarts more than you shall ever miss me as a father. This is partially my fault, I acknowledge. The Malfoys are not so family-oriented as the Blacks; you are aware, of course, as to why. 'Bad Faith' has more meaning than most know. However, since I have clearly failed you not only as a father, but as a teacher of who to follow (if my master is indeed responsible for my death), I cannot trust your judgement. Your mother is to hold Malfoy Manor, along with everything else, in trust for you, until such time as you take on the title of Lord Malfoy. As to your status until then, I am afraid I must now address…

My niece, Luna: Long have I allowed your father and you to retain the Rookery rent-free, in remembrance of your mother's death. However, I am now calling that debt in. You are to take in Draco, and tell him of the other side of our family business. Remember that what you do in England, our family once did in France, until the Veela came. Teach him; teach him what I legally could not. Help him make the Malfoy name a proud one once again; and, should he wish it, to avenge me. Although I am relying upon another individual for that:

Dean Winchester. I owe your family a great debt; it was they who convinced the Men of Letters to allow our family resettlement here in Britain. I spared your ancestor's life during the Purge in payment of this debt. Let us hope America suited him. And, more importantly, that it suited you. For I now wish to make a bargain; every last cent of the Malfoy fortune is now yours to command. In return...protect my family from my master. I am familiar with the Winchester family's honor; and with their persistence. I trust your judgement. My wife retains ownership of our Manor; she will inform you of its secrets, and if there are any guests that need...removing.

Please don't fail me.

Lucius Malfoy."

With that, the parchment disappeared.

The Ragnok clasped his hands together, and leaned back in his seat. "It is customary for the remaining part of an hour to be allotted for bargaining to occur after the reading of a will. The charge for this time in rent will be deducted from the finances of the departed. Begin."

With that pronunciation, the table vanished. Scrimgeour and Thicnesse were the first to rise, their chairs fading out of existence as they did so. The latter made no exiting remarks; the former, however, handed Harry's lighter back to him with a nod and three words: "I'll tell Bones."

He had no idea what the Auror meant by it, but it seemed to be a friendly gesture, so he took it as such.

Crowley had done a pretty fair job, all things considered. Some of those parts even sounded like they came from the real thing; he was pretty sure the demon would never have thought to add in anything about the Rookery or Veela.

Lady Malfoy moved directly into his line of sight. "Mister Winchester, if I might have a word."

He nodded. "Of course." This was what they'd planned on, after all.

Hermione, as 'Tonks', was supposed to offer a token protest. "Anything you have to say to Dean, Aunt, you can say to us."

"...Very well."

That wasn't in the script. Narcissa was supposed to 'convince' his friends to allow her to pull him away for a somewhat private conversation. Instead, she dove straight in.

"I was aware of much of my late husband's will before this reading; and that which was not revealed to me, I knew to be kept secret due to my husband's master's ability in the Mind Arts."

She meant Legilimency.

"Indeed, after filing his most recent will, my late husband had himself Obliviated of all knowledge of it. The Malfoys have never had the abilities of the Blacks in the field of Occlumency; and even I would not dare risk certain details to the possibility of discovery. I ask only this, Mister Winchester…"

And, to Harry's utter shock, Narcissa Malfoy went down on her knees. "Please...please save my son."

A terrible, terrible hunch came over him. "Lady Malfoy...why wasn't your son here today?"

Narcissa bowed her head...and began to speak.