Chapter Fourteen: Pride

Forty-seven minutes. She'd timed it at exactly that—how long it had taken to find him. Upon realizing that her son had left her alone in Flourish and Blotts, Narcissa had nearly dropped the books in her hurry to leave and determine where he'd gone, but she'd forced herself to remain calm, or as close to it as was physically possible, given the circumstances.

Narcissa had returned to Madam Malkin's first, half-certain that Draco had decided to finish what had been started with Potter and his followers, but on her arrival, she'd been greeted only by the shopkeeper, who had stared at her with an open mouth, trembling slightly.

"Has my son returned here?"

Malkin had shaken her head, and Narcissa hadn't bothered to stay an instant longer to explain. She'd never enjoyed the idea of creating fear in others, and the look Malkin had fixed on her from the moment she'd entered had been too similar to the one Narcissa herself had worn in the presence of the Dark Lord for her liking. The sight of it had turned her stomach, and she'd clutched Draco's schoolbooks tighter to her chest as she'd turned and departed the shop for the street outside, moving methodically from one building to the next until every shopkeeper in Diagon Alley had given her the same answer: "He's not here."

Eventually, she'd come to accept that it had been his plan to deceive her since before they'd left Malfoy Manor. Draco had never shown an interest in the procuring of his school supplies before unless he'd been trying to persuade his parents to purchase him something entertaining as well—like the new racing broom he'd managed to swindle out of Lucius five years earlier during the trip for Hogwarts items—and Narcissa realized she should've suspected that her son's eagerness to get this excursion over with must've been due to some ulterior motive.

It was with this thick cloud of pessimism polluting her thoughts that she'd turned the corner leading to Knockturn Alley. Mercifully, she'd spotted the bobbing platinum-blond head of her son moving toward her almost as soon as she'd taken this new path. Draco moved with his gaze directed at the cobbled ground in front of him, his hands in his pockets and his lips pressed into a hard line. Narcissa's heart roared in her ears as she started at a sprint toward him, coming to a halt directly in his path and reaching out to grasp his arm.

"Where in Merlin's name have you been?" she demanded, her voice harder than she'd intended, though she found herself unable to regret allowing her anger into the air after the way he'd treated her.

Draco jumped, his eyes widening enough to make it evident that he hadn't realized he'd been found until his mother had seized him.

"I—I just needed to get something. It doesn't matter."

"It doesn't matter?" Narcissa let out a frustrated cry, paying no mind to the people passing them on either side. "Do you really think that I need to be absolutely petrified by my inability to locate my son when he is very nearly all I have left, at least this side of Azkaban? Do you think taking advantage of my willingness to help you and running off on your own without a word is the appropriate way to keep this family together?"

Draco frowned deeply, lowering his gaze to the books Narcissa held and avoiding the accusation in her eyes. "I was on my way back," he said.

"Oh, were you? I'm flattered you remembered me eventually. What was so important that you couldn't have waited or at least told me where you were going, so that I didn't spend the better part of the last hour worried out of my mind for you?"

Draco fidgeted and lifted his shoulders in a half-shrug. "I can't talk about it, Mother. It's… It's part of my task."

A long moment followed in tense silence, and Narcissa's gaze flicked unconsciously to Draco's sleeve, beneath which she knew she would find the Dark Mark. She shook her head, trying to focus on her anger to keep herself from thinking about how hurt she was by her son's actions. Since Draco's birth, Narcissa had been willing to do literally anything within her power to keep him safe and happy, and recently, that had required moving against the wishes of the Dark Lord. She had set a contingency plan in motion to protect Draco if he failed to kill Albus Dumbledore. Narcissa knew that if word of her disobedience were to reach the Dark Lord, she would face another taste of the Cruciatus Curse at the least, and at the worst… she wouldn't allow herself to speculate. Despite her willingness to endanger herself for Draco's sake, the boy couldn't be bothered to tell her enough about what was required of him to ease her mind.

"We're going home," Narcissa said shortly. "And then we're going to Aunt Lara's, as she's invited us for supper."

She turned away before shifting the weight of the books to her other side, holding out her arm, and waiting for Draco to take it. He did so without a word, and the pair Disapparated.

Narcissa said very little during the meal prepared by the Mulcibers' elf. In most circumstances, she found herself able to speak easily around Lucius's family—much more easily than she'd ever spoken around her own—but tonight, her worries were too distracting, and she couldn't focus well on the conversation at hand. It wasn't until Draco had departed the table with Lara's children and Lucius's mother Seraphina, who had moved in here after his father's death to let Lucius take over the family's largest estate, addressed her specifically that Narcissa managed to speak more than a few words in succession.

"How are things going with the baby, Narcissa? Have you been feeling well?"

"As well as can be expected," she said with a light shrug, her fingertips moving unconsciously over the napkin lying in her lap. Her morning sickness had become more of an inconvenience than a serious detriment to her daily life, particularly when the rest of her stressors dominated so much of her focus. "It's about the same as—as it was with Draco." She took a sip from her glass, avoiding the gazes of the others. As it's been every time, she'd wanted to say, but discussing her many attempts at carrying children wasn't something she was prepared to do. She'd promised Lucius to try to remain positive about this pregnancy, and she intended to keep her word.

"Will you ask the healers about the gender?" asked Seraphina.

Narcissa shrugged. "I'm not certain. A surprise would give me something to look forward to, though I'd like to consider names. I'll have to speak with Lucius about it."

"Have the letters been working for you?"

Narcissa glanced down the table to Lara and nodded after a moment's pause.

"They were, yes. But when the Ministry decided to raid our home, they confiscated nearly all of the letters I've received."

"That's outrageous!" said Seraphina, her eyes narrowing. "The nerve. Scrimgeour's in charge now, isn't he?"

"Unfortunately," muttered Lara.

"Former Head of the Auror Office… We should've known he wouldn't make a secret of his dislike for our family." Seraphina sighed. "Regardless, he shouldn't be able to keep your property."

"I don't plan to allow him to," said Narcissa. "I believe I've given the Ministry enough time to do the right thing. I'm going to demand the letters back."

Seraphina nodded and raised her glass in Narcissa's direction. "Good, dear. You don't deserve to be troubled by the likes of those people. You have enough on your mind."

"I do." Narcissa glanced toward the door through which her son had departed with his cousins. "Things with Draco have been… trying, to put it lightly."

"I'd imagine he doesn't know what to do without his father," said Seraphina, the corners of her lips turning downward.

Narcissa knew her mother-in-law must be experiencing a similar anguish to her own over Lucius's incarceration, but the two hadn't yet spoken much on the matter. Narcissa trusted Seraphina, who had shown her more compassion than her own mother ever had, but she knew that if she spoke much about the situation, she wouldn't be able to stop herself from admitting how utterly lost she had become. She'd avoided discussing the subject when possible so that she could stay in denial about how deep her pain ran.

"You remember how Lucius was after Abraxas passed," Seraphina went on, inclining her head to Narcissa. "The two of them certainly argued now and then—I'm not sure how I survived having two such strong-willed men under one roof—but they loved and respected one another. And when we lost Abraxas, Lucius was crushed. Though it's not the same situation, thank the gods, this is still a separation that Draco doesn't know how to handle because there's nothing he can do to fix it. And he idolizes his father."

"He does," said Narcissa with a soft sigh. "I can't always get through to him in the same way Lucius does. I feel like he would know what to say to make Draco see reason, but no matter how I try, I don't think Draco hears me."

"He'll come around," said Lara. "He has to know that you only want what's best for him."

"Unfortunately, we can't agree on what exactly that means."

…How do you reason with someone who's so sure he knows what's best that he completely ignores the guidance you try to offer? I feel like I'm losing him, Lucius, and I can't handle it. You always know what to do at times like this—will I know in that same way, if the baby's a girl? Will I suddenly understand how to get through to her? And will we want to know the baby's gender in advance? I have too many questions, and I don't mean to bombard you with them, but it's getting so difficult to think clearly with all of these things—

"Are you still angry with me?"

Narcissa looked up from her parchment to find Draco standing on the threshold. When they'd returned home, she'd taken a seat at the desk in Lucius's study to vent her frustrations in the form of another letter, and she'd taken care to express her trouble in communicating with their son without explaining exactly what issues had divided them. Now was not, she knew, the time to mention Draco's mission.

"No," she said.

"You barely said a word to me at supper, Mother."

"I'm not… angry with you," Narcissa said carefully, sliding from the chair and starting toward her son.

"What, then? If you say you're disappointed, I—"

"What I need is for you to be honest with me," Narcissa said as she paused in front of Draco. He was watching her with poorly concealed hesitation, as though he were a young child again and awaiting his inevitable punishment. "We can't keep secrets, not from one another. Draco, I know you have been given a task of the utmost importance and that things will be required of you that I do not want you to do. I also know that what I want doesn't matter, when it comes to your orders." She'd accepted this fact long ago, though the orders in question had always belonged to Lucius until now. "But I will not be used as some unwitting participant in whatever it is you're doing to prepare for this. I will help you in any way that I can—I love you, and I want you to succeed. But don't think for a moment that I will endure being disrespected and abandoned in the middle of a crowded street while you go off to bear the world on your shoulders, thinking that I won't understand or will somehow hold you back. Whether you like it or not—whether the Dark Lord likes it or not—I am a part of this mess. He ensured that when he asked my child to risk his life for this cause. And while you may think that I don't have faith in you or your ability to do what you've been asked, that isn't the case. But it is my job as your mother to do everything in my power to make sure that you are as safe and well-equipped as possible to face this task. No more hiding from me, and no more trying to handle it all on your own. Do you understand?"

Draco stood perfectly still as his mother spoke, and several seconds passed in silence when she'd finished before he managed a stiff nod. Narcissa believed she caught sight of moisture forming in his eyes, but before she could see for certain, he'd pulled her into an embrace.

"I'm sorry," Draco said. "I'll tell you everything I can."