Chapter 11
Tapping three bricks in quick succession, I enter briskly into Diagon Alley. The smell, sights, and sounds hit me full force as I enter the most famous street in the British Wizarding World.
The smile on my face would put the Cheshire cat to shame, and even Albus would have to scramble to provide a more blissful expression. A few heads turn in my direction, but I pay them no heed.
Striding onward, my eyes dart from window shop to window shop, my glance gliding over familiar shops and new businesses, finally coming to rest on the dark entrance to Knockturn Alley. I stop and shift nervously.
Though I understand the need to subterfuge, I do not think it wise for Narcissa to be slinking around dodgy places like this. After all, with a husband in Azkaban, the last thing she needs is further suspicion thrown on her and the Malfoy name.
A few moments later, I see an elegantly hooded blond head emerge among the denizens of Knockturn Alley. I follow the deep green cloak as it approaches and then glides past me, stopping only slightly to assure I have begun to follow her.
A few more blocks back into Diagon Alley finds us in front of Gentilly's Tea House. Gaudy Christmas decorations adorn the windows, and I shudder at the thought of spending an afternoon there.
Swallowing hard, I follow the cloak inside. As my eyes adjust to the garish yellow light and steamy atmosphere, Narcissa moves to a table in the back, ordering for us both. I remove my outer cloak and hang it beside hers. Brushing my hand against the green fabric I feel cashmere.
Impressive, Narcissa. At least, perhaps to someone who doesn't stand to inherit a fortune that will make the Malfoy fortune look like a child's weekly allowance. Instead, I find it unnecessary and extravagant.
I sit down across the small table from her, knowing that I truly being my career as a mole now. If I can convince Narcissa, I can convince the Death Eaters, for there are not many who have the backbone to go against the Lady Malfoy.
"Narcissa." I acknowledge her with a nod. She is opening a napkin on her lap. She looks up at me, her face still scrunched as though Lucius spread manure on her upper lip and told her not remove it upon pain of death.
She elegantly pulls her blond hair out of her face and fixes a sickly smile on her features, "Bena. How excellent to see you again. Severus certainly is pleased to have you back. I am happy for you both. I hope you are able to reclaim your friendships."
I almost laugh out loud. Of her opening sentence, only the part about Severus was true. Instead, hearing Severus's words of wisdom in my mind's ear, I bite back the scathing remark on my tongue and instead smile dazzlingly.
"I hope to start with you, dear Narcissa. After all, you put more effort into my wedding than did I. I did you quite a disservice, fleeing the country as I did so many years ago. I regretted many times that I was stuck in the Wizarding States without a friend as dear as you."
Though anyone at Hogwarts would have seen through the lies immediately, Narcissa is as her name implies, and she has already lost much interest in what I am saying, and has instead turned the main focus of her attention to her tea and biscotti. I switch tactics.
"Did Severus mention our concern over the Black estate?"
Immediately her eyes snap back to mine. "Yes," she says slowly.
"And?" I prompt her.
"I spoke with Draco. He is willing to sign the house over to Severus. Circe knows he won't need another one. Lucius and I have the cottage in Cannes and the villa in Tuscany to give him as a wedding present. And, of course, he will inherit the Manor upon Lucius's death."
"What do you plan on doing with the house? Establishing the House of Snape once again?" she says laughing.
Seeing my eyes downcast, and a faint glow rising in my cheeks, she instantly stops her laughter.
"Oh, Bena, I am sorry, I never thought, it's just, oh you can't be serious." Her unctuous voice stuttered to a stop.
"No, Narcissa, I am not. But, I will need your help. I, I will need your help. And I don't just mean in solidifying the transference of the house to Severus's name, I mean back into society, and.....other organizations of which my husband may belong." I say, hopefully conveying to her that I am in earnest.
She looks at me. I carefully move my eyes from side to side, hoping to communicate that I am aware of what I am suggesting, though nervous about it. That isn't too difficult, as I am nervous about what I am suggesting.
Apparently pleased with what she has found while watching me, she leans forward and whispers, "Lucius is to break out of Azkaban this evening. Once he is back home, which should be late tonight, I will talk with him. Wait for a message for me early tomorrow morning."
Leaning back, she raises her voice to full volume again, "I'm sorry to cut our visit short, but I must be getting back to my son. He was asking about you, he seems anxious to meet you. Hopefully we can have you over to tea or perhaps supper sometime soon. Good day, Bena."
And she sweeps magnificently from the teahouse. As much as I may be against the principles of the pureblood mania, the upbringing Narcissa received trained her to intimidate and impress under any circumstances. Rule, Britannia, with an aristocracy such as that. And, if I am not mistaken, Narcissa has taken me under her wing. Oh yes, I am far on my way of being presented to Voldemort. May Merlin guide me.
Tapping three bricks in quick succession, I enter briskly into Diagon Alley. The smell, sights, and sounds hit me full force as I enter the most famous street in the British Wizarding World.
The smile on my face would put the Cheshire cat to shame, and even Albus would have to scramble to provide a more blissful expression. A few heads turn in my direction, but I pay them no heed.
Striding onward, my eyes dart from window shop to window shop, my glance gliding over familiar shops and new businesses, finally coming to rest on the dark entrance to Knockturn Alley. I stop and shift nervously.
Though I understand the need to subterfuge, I do not think it wise for Narcissa to be slinking around dodgy places like this. After all, with a husband in Azkaban, the last thing she needs is further suspicion thrown on her and the Malfoy name.
A few moments later, I see an elegantly hooded blond head emerge among the denizens of Knockturn Alley. I follow the deep green cloak as it approaches and then glides past me, stopping only slightly to assure I have begun to follow her.
A few more blocks back into Diagon Alley finds us in front of Gentilly's Tea House. Gaudy Christmas decorations adorn the windows, and I shudder at the thought of spending an afternoon there.
Swallowing hard, I follow the cloak inside. As my eyes adjust to the garish yellow light and steamy atmosphere, Narcissa moves to a table in the back, ordering for us both. I remove my outer cloak and hang it beside hers. Brushing my hand against the green fabric I feel cashmere.
Impressive, Narcissa. At least, perhaps to someone who doesn't stand to inherit a fortune that will make the Malfoy fortune look like a child's weekly allowance. Instead, I find it unnecessary and extravagant.
I sit down across the small table from her, knowing that I truly being my career as a mole now. If I can convince Narcissa, I can convince the Death Eaters, for there are not many who have the backbone to go against the Lady Malfoy.
"Narcissa." I acknowledge her with a nod. She is opening a napkin on her lap. She looks up at me, her face still scrunched as though Lucius spread manure on her upper lip and told her not remove it upon pain of death.
She elegantly pulls her blond hair out of her face and fixes a sickly smile on her features, "Bena. How excellent to see you again. Severus certainly is pleased to have you back. I am happy for you both. I hope you are able to reclaim your friendships."
I almost laugh out loud. Of her opening sentence, only the part about Severus was true. Instead, hearing Severus's words of wisdom in my mind's ear, I bite back the scathing remark on my tongue and instead smile dazzlingly.
"I hope to start with you, dear Narcissa. After all, you put more effort into my wedding than did I. I did you quite a disservice, fleeing the country as I did so many years ago. I regretted many times that I was stuck in the Wizarding States without a friend as dear as you."
Though anyone at Hogwarts would have seen through the lies immediately, Narcissa is as her name implies, and she has already lost much interest in what I am saying, and has instead turned the main focus of her attention to her tea and biscotti. I switch tactics.
"Did Severus mention our concern over the Black estate?"
Immediately her eyes snap back to mine. "Yes," she says slowly.
"And?" I prompt her.
"I spoke with Draco. He is willing to sign the house over to Severus. Circe knows he won't need another one. Lucius and I have the cottage in Cannes and the villa in Tuscany to give him as a wedding present. And, of course, he will inherit the Manor upon Lucius's death."
"What do you plan on doing with the house? Establishing the House of Snape once again?" she says laughing.
Seeing my eyes downcast, and a faint glow rising in my cheeks, she instantly stops her laughter.
"Oh, Bena, I am sorry, I never thought, it's just, oh you can't be serious." Her unctuous voice stuttered to a stop.
"No, Narcissa, I am not. But, I will need your help. I, I will need your help. And I don't just mean in solidifying the transference of the house to Severus's name, I mean back into society, and.....other organizations of which my husband may belong." I say, hopefully conveying to her that I am in earnest.
She looks at me. I carefully move my eyes from side to side, hoping to communicate that I am aware of what I am suggesting, though nervous about it. That isn't too difficult, as I am nervous about what I am suggesting.
Apparently pleased with what she has found while watching me, she leans forward and whispers, "Lucius is to break out of Azkaban this evening. Once he is back home, which should be late tonight, I will talk with him. Wait for a message for me early tomorrow morning."
Leaning back, she raises her voice to full volume again, "I'm sorry to cut our visit short, but I must be getting back to my son. He was asking about you, he seems anxious to meet you. Hopefully we can have you over to tea or perhaps supper sometime soon. Good day, Bena."
And she sweeps magnificently from the teahouse. As much as I may be against the principles of the pureblood mania, the upbringing Narcissa received trained her to intimidate and impress under any circumstances. Rule, Britannia, with an aristocracy such as that. And, if I am not mistaken, Narcissa has taken me under her wing. Oh yes, I am far on my way of being presented to Voldemort. May Merlin guide me.