Chapter 9.7: News of Change
Selected Listening: Knockturn Alley- John Williams
It was a chilly Saturday in November when an owl brought a special evening edition of the Daily Prophet to the Malfoy Manor. Narcissa had spent her afternoon baking cookies to send to Draco as a treat after his first game. Although Lucius had gone to attend in person, she had never been one for watching sports on uncomfortable bleachers. Not to mention, she wasn't keen on having to speak with so many of her old teachers and would rather go unnoticed.
When the delivery owl landed on the kitchen windowsill and passed her the paper attached to one leg, she slid a couple of knuts into the bag on his other leg, and the owl flew off again.
Narcissa opened the paper with a smile. Draco must have won Slytherin the game. He had been training all summer.
But Narcissa's joy instantly turned to dread when she saw the headline.
"ROGUE BLUDGER ATTACKS POTTER. RESERVE PLAYER SCORES WIN FOR GRYFFINDOR!"
The large picture on the front showed a complex scene. The Potter boy jetted off the field and limp on the ground. Draco struggled in the background, gasping for breath. A determined young girl overtook his lead and stretched her hand out for the win. She caught the snitch. She turned towards the camera, holding the snitch above her head. Her face revealed, Narcissa ogled in shock.
Anastasia.
Narcissa stumbled into the den and onto one of the long velvet couches. She stared out the window for a long time, infuriated. Now, Anastasia's picture had been pasted all over the Daily Prophet. How proud she was of the girl, yet how bittersweet. She had taken Draco's win, and he could be seen growling behind her in the photo. It made Narcissa smile a bit on one side.
Still, Albus had agreed, she would stay relatively unknown, and yet he allowed her to become a quidditch star. That was all Gryffindors cared about, pretending to save people who didn't need help in the first place, and sports.
Just as she was debating if she should write Albus an angry letter, the house elf stumbled in, holding a cleaning rag and a bottle of silver polish.
"Um…mistress. Mistress, Doby has a question concerning your jewelry—"
Narcissa's head snapped towards the elf.
"Well, what is it?"
"Well—um—since Doby cleaned your jewelry in the spring, there seems to be a piece that has gone—um—missing."
Narcissa's nostrils flared. She already knew what happened to the necklace…what she had done with the necklace…but she couldn't let on to the elf. No one could know what she did with it.
"And you dare tell me about it now?"
"Um—well—you see—I—um—it was the big yellow sparkly one. Dobby had not seen it in quite some time and thought maybe the mistress had put it elsewhere for safekeeping."
"Well, that's not the case. If it's missing, it's missing, so you'd better find it." Narcissa spat.
"MMh!" The elf jumped and ran behind the couch, his fingers bandaged and twiddling. "Please, mistress Dobby did nothing with the necklace. It had been in your box for so long. How was Dobby supposed to know?"
"Find it!" Narcissa raged, and the elf popped away.
When the elf was gone, Narcissa sunk back down on the couch and stared at the picture of the proud young woman.
In the silence, she felt the true extent of her loneliness.