Narcissa Malfoy flooed into the main study. She knew her husband would be waiting for her there, staring into the fire or sitting at his desk while he considered all of the possible benefits and ramifications of having Astarte Hemione Black in their lives, as she undoubtedly would be.
Lucius stood from a velvet green chair when she stepped out of the flames. She smothered her surprise that she had been wrong, even after years of being comfortable in her knowledge of her husband's habits.
"Well?" he asked, watching as she removed her outer robe and tossed it over the back of a chair. A house elf appeared with a pop and took the garment to be cleaned without a word to the witch and wizard.
"You need to scrap every plan you've been thinking about since you noticed her name in that book."
Lucius's brows rose. "Oh? And why is that?"
Finally, in a place where she could drop all pretenses, Narcissa did something she never did. She kicked off her heels, took her hair from its confining twist, massaged her temples, and sat heavily in the chair nearest the fireplace.
Her husband was silently shocked by his wife's careless abandonment of the etiquette she had always religiously followed. He had been quick to anger when she callously told him to scrap his plans, but her out of character slouch and tired sigh led him to wonder what had so strongly affected her about the girl.
So Lucius did something he never did. He grabbed a chair by the arms and pulled it across the study until it was a bare foot from his wife's chair. Then, he sat down, long legs touching hers at the knees while he waited for her to gather her thoughts.
After a moment, Narcissa noisily exhaled through her nose and squeezed his knee gently. Her grey eyes, a trait famous among the Blacks that he had been delighted to see in their son, met his pale blue eyes seriously. "Did you ever see her in person when you stormed the school the other day?"
Lucius thought back. He had caught a glimpse of dark hair and a slight, blanket bundled figure. At the time, he hadn't even thought of meeting the girl he had found added to the genealogy book in person. He had been too confounded by her mere existence in name and illustration on a page that should have never had another addition again, so long as Sirius Black rotted in Azkaban.
"No, she was there but I didn't care much at the time. Why? Is she hideous?"
His wife's shoulders shook with laughter. "That would be a concern of yours, Lucius. Is she pretty enough to be associated with the family?"
Lucius's lips quirked, but his wife's humor touched on a concerning subject. "Well? You didn't actually answer the question. If she's unfortunate and looks like her father, then—][]\"
"Lucius!" Narcissa lightly swatted his leg with a giggle. "It kills you to admit Sirius was marvelously good looking, doesn't it?"
"I always thought he was rather too scruffy."
His humor was succeeding; the tension leaked from her shoulders, relaxing the lines around her eyes and mouth. "Oh, but he cleaned up for Hogsmeade's weekends. All the girls noticed."
He sniffed haughtily. "Even first cousins noticed, apparently."
She smiled softly at his exaggerated consternation. No one else got to witness Lucius Malfoy dryly tease his wife, not even their only son. Lucius and Narcissa hid their relationship from the world, because they operated best when no one else knew who they truly were beneath the veneer of wealth and blood status.
"Tell me what happened today," he gently encouraged. Even though he had loosened the mood to allow his wife to relax, they still had strategies to formulate in the face of such a shocking surprise as Astarte Black. They were Lucius and Narcissa, but they were also Malfoys.
"She was in the infirmary, reading the first batch of correspondence with Severus. She's a tiny thing right now, not like the Blacks at all, though I could tell she had their thinness. She must get her height from her muggle mother, although she still has time to grow into the Black figure I suppose."
"I hope she does," Lucius agreed. "I would rather nothing of her disgusting muggle blood exist over a Black trait."
"Don't forget she's also a le Fay," Narcissa muttered. "I went to the common room to visit with Draco since he still has a few burns—"
"Don't coddle the boy over a few singes," Lucius sneered. "Do you want the other families to think him weak?"
"He survived Fiendfyre, I should think that gives a mother the right to at least speak to him, Lucius. He could have been like Marcus Flint."
Lucius and Narcissa had sent a basket to Marcus Flint's room in St. Mungo's. According to rumors, he would be badly disfigured, if he even survived.
"Anyway," Narcissa continued, tearing her mind from the fate that could have been Draco's, "when I visited, I recalled the painting beside the fire place in the corner."
Lucius frowned. "The bowl of fruit?'
"There isn't a single still life painting in the Slytherin common room Lucius. This is why you can't be trusted to choose décor. No, it's a portrait of Morgan le Fay, from when she was younger. Hermione and Morgan le Fay have identical eyes."
"It's not a Black trait, but a le Fay trait is certainly not something to dismiss," he said thoughtfully.
"Le Fay and Hermione have the exact same gold eyes. Anyone who has seen an image of le Fay will recognize Hermione's claim without a doubt, which gives the girl quite a bit of power. She will have control over two seats among the Sacred Twenty-eight, and a lion's share of gold from the le Fay and Black vaults at Gringotts. It's incredibly advantageous for her."
Lucius nodded in thought. His wife was correct. Astarte Hermione Black was easily the most powerful woman in Britain, simply by merit of her blood.
"Lucius, when I first looked at her… her eyes were cold. Empty. She looked at me like a snake would a mouse. It was not at all what I expected of a girl who had been bullied for months and then tortured within her own dorm," Narcissa wrung her hands. "I prepared to meet a scared girl in desperate need of guidance. I thought it would be easy to offer myself as that guide, but when I saw how she sat straight and still, hands folded perfectly and eyes empty… I reacted poorly."
"Did you jeopardize our position with her?" Lucius asked, too calmly for the intensity of his stare. "We are her closest remaining relatives outside of Azkaban. It would be very, very displeasing to many of our associates if you alienate the girl."
Narcissa shook her head quickly, desperate to explain herself. "I began to needle her, to eke some sort of emotional reaction from her. Lucius, she was unnaturally cold, more so than even Sylvia Greengrass has ever managed. For Merlin's sake, her fingertips were stained with ink but she still looked at me as if I was the one who should be begging for her help. It was unnerving."
"I don't care how odd she is. She's a very powerful piece to have."
"I know, just listen! You will understand in a moment. I told her that Draco is our son. Lucius, from how she reacted, I wonder at how safe our son is at Hogwarts."
Lucius laughed. "A twelve-year-old girl doesn't pose a threat to a Malfoy, in Slytherin, at Hogwarts! No matter how Dumbledore meddles, he wouldn't dare allow anything to happen to Draco. The uproar would be enormous."
"I laughed at first too," she said quietly, seriously. "I need you to think back and remember when we were in school together. Slytherin was filled with vicious people, the ones who leaped at the chance to join the Dark Lord and use dark curses—"
"Narcissa," Lucius hissed.
She inhaled deeply. "Who was the worst, Lucius? Who in Slytherin was the most violent, unstable, terrifying—"
"Bellatrix. What does she have to do with Hermione?"
"Hermione could be Bella's twin. Not just her twin, but an exact replica, down to how their eyes look when they threaten someone."
"Don't exaggerate. Hermione is twelve years old. Bellatrix didn't become so… unstable until fourth or fifth year."
"No!" Narcissa shouted suddenly. "You're not listening," she settled down, grasping his hands to speak to him intently. "They have the same hair. The same face, the same smile when she's thinking of how she's going to enjoy making someone suffer. She looked me in the eyes and told me she enjoyed burning Marcus Flint alive, and that if Draco ever threatened her again, she would kill him."
Lucius, silenced by his wife's seriousness, closed his eyes. "I believe her," she whispered. "I really do. She had so much of Bella, I'm surprised she isn't Bella's own daughter."
"I don't care how we do it," she continued in a whisper, "but we have to have her on our side. I won't leave our son to live in fear, imprisoned in Hogwarts with a ruthless Bella, because of my pride in refusing to accept a mostly halfblood witch."
"Is she truly capable of cruelty like Bellatrix?" Lucius asked.
"The girl somehow cast Fiendfyre without her wand, and without Dumbledore sniffing too closely. Having her around Draco frightens me. What truly frightens me is that she's only twelve. Imagine what she could become by the time her education is finished! But if we have her on our side, imagine the possibilities of what we can help her become."
Lucius nodded in agreement; his wife's assessment was correct. Having the girl, who showed such lethal ability, would be akin to having the undisputed queen of the chessboard at their side. "How do you propose we do this then?"
"I'm taking her to run errands tomorrow to the Ministry and such. Draco is going with us, where he will make a full, sincere apology, even if I must strike him to create genuine tears. You will meet us for lunch, and you will be polite and welcoming."
"I'm almost tempted to just kill the girl," Lucius suggested.
Narcissa tilted her head in consideration. "No," she decided, shaking her blonde head. "Dumbledore is too interested in her now. She would be a massive benefit for his side. She possesses untold wealth and social connections, and he would undoubtedly try to use her family's reputation to draw others to his cause. No, she stays alive."
"Besides simply swaying her to us, what do we do with the girl? Treat her like a daughter?"
"For now," she said. "She would be a good match for Draco perhaps, in the future."
"You just convinced me she's a danger to our son and now you want them married?"
"If we do our part in raising her properly, we can groom the side of her that is Bella into something more stable. It's worth the consideration," she explained.
"You never answered my first question. Is the girl pretty?"
Narcissa rolled her eyes. "She's beautiful, and undoubtedly will only become more beautiful as she grows older. The le Fay eyes are stunning with the Black skin and hair."
"So they would be an attractive match then."
"She would make anyone an attractive match," Narcissa rebutted. "Even a Goyle would look magnificent by her side."
"I'll believe it when I see it," he argued stubbornly.
She smiled slyly at him. "Then prepare for lunch tomorrow. It is sure to be interesting."