Chapter Name: Narcissa's Funeral (I know it's a lame name but I can't think of anything else right now!)

Disclaimer: I own Lucius' parents and their names and Narcissa's history. Nothing else though, sadly.

Thank you again to my reviewers! You guys are the greatest!! *sob!*

Rei.K: Lol! Yes my name does have a meaning! Go to my profile and read all about it!

Quicksilver Fallen: Thanx! And I really love your story Faded Eternity!

Nestrik: Yes I have had writers block! I know how it goes.I got the Sims too! So did two of my friends and they talk about it nonstop!

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Draco's feet slammed the ground and he nearly stumbled forward from the weight of his father behind him. But Lucius caught him before he could fall face first in a very un-Malfoy like manner.

Draco stood up strait and brushed himself off.

"Thank you Father." He said humbly.

Lucius ignored him and started walking away. Draco looked at his surroundings. He was in the Malfoy Manor garden. Draco had always loved the garden as a child. It was a solitary place where he could get away when his father hit Narcissa or beat him. Of course, those were the old days when Lucius would get drunk. Soon Lucius realized that he was not upholding his surname's honor and he quit drinking.

Draco looked around at the bushes that were carved into simple abstract shapes. He took in the aroma of the poinsettias around him. He noted the faint, restful breeze in the air. Then he shook himself.

"What am I saying?" Draco thought to himself. I don't enjoy nature and sunshine! I like dark, secluded, cold areas!"

But all the while he couldn't stop enjoying the freshness of the garden.



*~*~*~*~*



Draco was in his room looking for some robes to wear to the funeral. It would be held in the garden. Draco wondered who would take so much loving care of that beautiful place now that his mother was gone.

"I HAVE to take my mind off that silly garden!" Draco thought aloud. Then he turned to his wardrobe.

"What to wear?" he chanted "What to wear...?"

There really wasn't a choice. Ninety-nine percent of his wardrobe consisted of black. The one percent that wasn't black was a silvery dress robe that his mother had made for him on his eighth birthday. She charmed it to grow at the speed of Draco so it would always fit him.

"Should I wear it?" Draco mused. "Yes." He decided. "Mother would want me to."

Draco quickly took off his school robes and threw on the silver ones. They matched his eye color almost perfectly.

Draco was about to leave the room when there was a rushing noise.

"Draco?"

Draco looked around for his father, as that was his voice. He turned around frantically, as his father is not a very patient person. Then he looked in the fireplace. Sure enough, his father's head was in the fireplace. He never did like walking the distances in the Manor and that was why there is a fireplace in every room.

Draco marched to the fireplace. "Yes Father?"

Lucius opened his mouth to answer. Then he closed it abruptly.

"What ARE you wearing son?"

Draco felt a tiny bit of blood rush up to his face.

"The robes that mother made for me when I was eight, Sir."

Lucius opened his mouth again, then changed his mind, and shut it.

"Very well. Be showered and groomed within half an hour."

"Yes, Sir."

Then Lucius' head disappeared.

Grumbling, Draco took off the light robes and hopped into the shower. After ten long minutes of a warm, tropical paradise, Draco stepped out onto the freezing floor.

After casting a drying spell on himself, Draco pulled on the robes again. Then he sat in front of the bathroom mirror and combed his hair. After he was satisfied with it, he cast a drying spell on his hair too. Then he brushed his teeth.

Fifteen minutes later Draco was dressed, groomed and smelled like cologne. He made his way down to his father's office.

What Lucius did in that office was a mystery to Draco. He would shut himself up in there for hours at a time doing who-knows-what.

Cautiously, Draco knocked softly on the door.

"Enter." Called Lucius' drawling voice.

Draco slowly opened the door and walked, cat-like, into the room. His father's huge oak desk sat in the middle of the room. Bookshelves with numerous off-limits books that contained very old, powerful magic lined three walls. The other wall had numerous trophies and old photo albums on it. A titanic chandelier hung over the room, emitting a soft glow. Lucius Malfoy sat in a black leather high-backed chair. In front of the gigantic desk were slightly smaller leather chairs that his guests sat in when they arrived.

"Are you ready Draco?" Lucius asked taking note of his heir's presence in the room.

"I am Father." Draco replied.

Lucius stood up with the cat-like grace that Draco always admired and strived to have.

"Come." He said beckoning to Draco.

Draco followed his father out of the huge room and tried to walk like him. He straightened his back and lifted up his chin, striding with the grace he had always longed for.

"So son...I heard about the Quidditch match."

"Yes it was funny...and they gave US the victory!"

"Yes I know. I was thinking, Son, about your failures with Gryffindor."

Draco was silent.

"And I will not buy you a new racing broom until you beat that Potter filth at at least ONE game." Lucius drawled.

Draco protested. "But Father! His broom is a million times better than mine! How am I supposed to beat a Firebolt when I am only on a Nimbus?"

"It is not about the brooms Draco!" Lucius calmly said, stopping and turning around. Draco cowered. His father's eyes were flashing a dark stormy gray.

"It is about the talent of the ones on the broom! I will buy you a Firebolt 78 if you beat him!"

"Yes Father." Draco mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Look at me when you talk to me boy!"

Draco looked up unwillingly into his father's eyes. They were still flashing.

"Yes Father." Draco said boldly, still looking into Lucius' eyes.

Lucius then continued his path down to the garden. Draco followed him.



*~*~*~*~*



Draco stood with Lucius next to his mother's coffin. He looked down at her beautiful, sleeping face. He remembered all the wonderful times they had shared together. All the times they had laughed together. Then he mentally slapped himself.

"I am sounding like a little, wimpy, GRYFFINDOR!" he scolded himself.

Just then somebody called his name. "Draco!"

Draco turned around. "Grandmother! Grandfather!"

For a moment Draco lost all of his standard Malfoy composure. He ran into his Grandmother's arms.

"Hello Draco!" she said hugging him close. "How are you?"

"I'm fine. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful dear! I have a present for you! But first go greet your Grandfather!"

"Yes ma'am!"

Draco walked over to his father's father. "Hello Grandfather!" he said shaking his hand.

"Hello Draco. Did your Grandmother tell you what we have for you?"

"No sir...she told me to greet you first."

Draco saw what looked like a tiny smile on the former Death Eater's face.

"Bring it Marquesa!"

Draco's grandmother snapped her fingers and a wrapped package came soaring through the air. Marquesa caught it and handed it to Draco.

"For you!" she said, clapping her hands together.

Draco took it graciously.

With a wave of his wand, Draco's package was unwrapped. He gaped at what lay before him.

"Mother, I'm sorry but Draco cannot accept this!" Lucius exclaimed sounding rather miffed.

"Don't be silly Lucius!" Draco's grandmother exclaimed. "There's no reason Draco can't have a Firebolt 78!"

Lucius looked at his father, whose name was Lars. "Father! He can't take it! I told him I'd buy him one after he beat Potter!"

"Nonsense!" Marquesa scolded. "He has been through quite enough without having to beat Harry!"

Draco was glad that his grandparents were standing up for him but he couldn't stop thinking about what his father would do when they left.

"Besides," Lars drawled simply. "It's an early Christmas present!"

Draco sometimes wondered how his father had gotten so cold and unloving. Maybe Lars was like Lucius when he was still young. "I guess the older you get the nicer you get." Draco sighed to himself.

After about fifteen minutes of arguing with his parents Lucius did something he had never done before, he gave up.

"Fine." He said in a low voice. "The boy may keep the broom."

Draco gave his grandparents a joyous look.

"On one condition." Lucius continued in the same low voice, crushing Draco's joy. "He has to beat Potter in the next Quidditch match, whether by Snitch or points doesn't matter, as long as the Slytherins beat the Gryffindors."

Draco mentally grinned triumphantly. Potter was on a FIREBOLT! Draco has a FIREBOLT 78! It will be simple!

"Do we have a bargain Draco?" asked Lucius slow voice.

"Yes sir!"



*~*~*~*~*



Many people that Draco didn't know gathered into the garden before 12:00. All of them were dressed in very rich dress robes. There was only one child who was all alone. A girl who looked about eleven years old. As the people approached Draco recognized the girl.

"Hullo Tempest. Long time no see."

"I'm sorry Draco."

"About my mother?"

"For scaring you at the ball." Then she thought for a moment. "And for your mother!"

"Oh...thanks. I have a question though. Why did you just disappear at the ball?"

"Didn't Professor Talmange teach you ANYTHING about ghosts?" she asked annoyed.

"She sort of went into it, yeah."

"Did she tell about about ghosts knowing the future?"

"Yeah! She said they could!"

"She left out a very important point."

"What is that?" Draco asked.

"We know the future but we can't TELL it. It would go against God's idea."

"And what, may I ask, is God's idea."

Tempest hesitated. "If he wanted you to know he would tell you."

"So you're saying if I asked you what the future is you would disappear again?"

"Yes."

"How did you get accepted into Hogwarts?" Draco asked. "I mean, you're a ghost!"

But before Tempest could answer Lucius Malfoy stood up on the podium.

"I would first like to say, thank you." Lucius started in a humble voice. "Thank you for sharing this grief with my son and I, and our family. Narcissa was a very special and unique woman. She died in a Death eater attack."

Draco noticed his father hadn't said that she was IN the Death Eater attack... "Very smart Father." Draco said to himself, smirking.

"Narcissa was born in Ireland. Her mother died at birth and her father was killed three months earlier by a crazed moron. Narcissa was raised by her grandfather who died shortly after she entered Hogwarts. She was sorted into the Slytherin House."

There were murmurs throughout the audience as he said this. Lucius ignored them.

"Narcissa was teased by her fellow housemates because she had no parents, and no guardians. But through the little friends she had, who include, Mrs. Parkinson, Professor Sinistra, and myself, she gained strength and confidence. Soon she was top of every class except Potions, where Severus Snape was top.

"As a teenage girl she had crushes on three boys. Myself, Severus, and," Lucius made a sour face before he said, "James Potter. James wanted nothing to do with her because he was so wrapped up in romance with that Mudblood, Lily Evans. Severus wanted nothing to do with her either because he was studying to become a Potions Master at Hogwarts and never had the time to do anything."

Professor Snape who, consequently, was sitting next to Draco let out a low growl. Draco looked sympathetically at his favorite teacher.

After Lucius finished his speech everyone got up from their chairs to give their condolences to various Malfoys and to touch Narcissa's hand, crying.

After shaking about one hundred peoples hands, Draco went to find Tempest. He saw her sitting between a topiary of a butterfly and a fountain.

"What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing." Tempest replied, dipping her hands in the fountain.

"Where are you going to go after this is over?" Draco asked, indicating the funeral.

She looked at him. "Hogwarts."

Draco nearly hit himself on the head. 'DUH!' he thought to himself.

"Oh. Well I have one more question."

"What's that?" Tempest asked looking him strait in the eye.

"Where do you go when you disappear?"

Tempest lowered her eyes.

"I go to visit my parents in heaven."

Draco looked at her then asked softly, "How did you die?"

"Why do you want to know?" Tempest asked boldly.

Draco shrugged.

"Fine, I'll tell you."



*~*~*~*~*



Sorry! But it's 10:48 here and I have to wake up kind of early tomorrow to go play paintball war and my wrist is starting to hurt! So tune in next time for Tempest's story!!

BEEFYWPAC