Narcissa Malfoy knew her worth. As one of three disappointingly female offspring, she had been raised to marry a powerful wizard. As the only Black in a millennia to be born while the sun was shining, she was born with the first strike against her. She'd been named after a flower. Blonde and controlled, it had been easy to ignore her. Bellatrix had been the perfect Black princess. That she'd had more power than sense had gone deliberately unnoticed. Andromeda proved to be the opposite. Her ability to think had been her undoing though. What dutiful daughter made her own choices? Abandoning her heritage to marry a Hufflepuff muggleborn saw her pruned from the family tree and left Narcissa to fulfill her promises. Being the second choice did not matter. Power mattered. Grace mattered. Strength mattered. Love had been nothing more than an indulgence.

She knew the power of her blood and the wild coursing passions of her magic. The legacy of the fiercest family in all the land flowed in through her veins. It fell to her to protect the rapidly dwindling power of her kind.

Following a power hungry maniac had been her husband's folly. It wasn't all that surprising. Lucius had power enough, but he was easily led. He was in common company. The sons of Riddle's first friends never stood a chance. Raised to obey, the great houses had fallen to the madman like sheep.

The few that survived the war still bleated. She detested them as a whole. Watered down traditions and hidebound stupidity guided most pure blood families now. The traditions they were supposed to hold true faded further each year. They whined about muggleborns, but, in truth, they feared true power. Muggleborn or family scion mattered not at all. As if blood were of any significance on its own. She rolled her eyes.

Blood was everything and nothing. She pressed her wand against her hand and let slip the mildest of cutting hexes. Her blood carrying her magic pooled in her palm. She smeared the blood along her mirror in a single, steady swipe. There was no need to chant or call her magic. It was present and acting to give her a window.

Her mirror rippled and absorbed the blood, and her Draco came into view. His beautiful hair was tousled, and his clothing was odd at best. She examined him, and felt her own lips curl up with joy. Her boy was laughing and happy and sober. She hadn't seen him in such a state for far too many years.

She took in the whole picture. He was wandering about a bookstore, but she didn't recognize it. His friends were with him, and all of them looked relaxed.

"Hermione mentioned this was one of the biggest bookstores around." Gregory Goyle glanced around. "Foyles was pretty easy for me to remember."

"These books aren't about courting." Blaise handed a copy of some book to Theo. "Unless muggles are far more liberal than we ever realized."

"This is the Kama Sutra." Theo rolled his eyes and shoved the book back into Blaise's chest. "We have a copy in my library, and I know you've seen it."

"But the illustrations move." Blaise flipped the book open again. "These photographs don't move. Is it faulty?"

"It's muggle." Greg shook his head. "Even I know they shouldn't move."

"Yes, let's openly discuss how odd the natives seem." Theo huffed. "Because drawing attention to ourselves is such a bloody good idea. Let's find the book quickly. Then we can go back to Draco's home and see if his bossy elves can cook."

She let the magic fade on the boys continued bickering and turned her focus toward another point. The mirror rippled and fought her for a moment. It had been a long time since she had looked in on her sister. The glass shivered and bulged toward her before it settled back and brought her the view she desired.

Andromeda was watching a young boy with blue hair gambol about the yard. The years had worn her sister down. She was still lovely, but her hair was greying and her cheeks had hollowed.

Narcissa traced a finger along her sister's form. The woman before her did not resemble to teenager that had flung her rebellion at the heart of her family and disappeared with the clothes on her back. Her husband, her daughter, and her son in law were all lost to the war. The losses were too vast to consider.

Repairing their relationship was a vital part of her long term goals, but reconciliation might serve them both. The open maw of her sister's desertion twisted inside her. Perhaps the losses led Andromeda to value family more. Narcissa repressed the guilt that surged up and considered how best to achieve reconciliation.

She released the mirror and sat back, dabbing at her moist brow with an embroidered linen square. The carefully stitched runes insured that none of her bodily fluids could be used against her. Caution and planning would see her through.

Narcissa glanced at the photographs carefully arrayed in their silver frames. She had accepted that loving her husband was unavoidable, but she hadn't known fear until she held her darling Draco in her arms.

She set down the cloth and smiled at his youthful antics on his first training broom. She would rip the world to shreds and reform it for Draco. It wouldn't be easy, but Black's never flinched when duty called.

When the elf announced that the Longbottom matriarch had arrived, she nodded. The most delicate work of her plan lay just ahead.

"Peace in our time." Narcissa's reflection reminded her with a nod.

"For Draco." She closed her eyes and remembered how carefree he had seemed with his friends. She would see him like that in person soon. Her dragon would fly free.