Chapter Five

Molly Weasley was having a very bad week.

Having four children under the age of four would be a trial for anyone. Having two of them be Fred and George was, she thought, a completely unjust blow of Fate. She loved them, of course, although sometimes she had to remind herself of that rather often.

Like today, for example, when they had fed their almost two-year-old brother three Puffapod seeds before she'd caught them. Ron would put anything shiny in his mouth, poor little fellow, and heaven only knew what they'd do in there. She'd had to rush him straight to St Mungo's, after calling Arthur home to take care of the other children.

After Ron had been de-seeded and given a lollipop, she decided to stop in at the small, charming house that currently served as the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. The Order still had work to do, tidying up the last of Voldemort's followers, although things were slowing down now. She'd rather miss it... With seven children, she didn't often get to spend time with other adults.

Alastor Moody was there, when she arrived, along with Arabella Figg, having a cup of tea and fussing over an adorable little blond boy about Ron's age. Moody raised an eyebrow at her, giving the little boy another biscuit. "We weren't expecting you, Molly... anything wrong?"

"The twins fed Ron Puffapod seeds," Molly said a little grumpily. "They've hit on the idea of finding out if things are good to eat by giving them to Ron first, the little wretches."

"Oh, dear..." Arabella shook her head, smiling at Ron, who still looked a bit woebegone, despite the bright pink lollipop he was sucking. "But he got a sweetie out of it, didn't you, little man?" Ron nodded, looking a little more cheerful. "And you, Molly, sit down and have a cup of tea and a biscuit."

"I can't think of anything I want more, just now," Molly admitted, sitting down and letting Ron wiggle down off her lap to investigate the stranger. "And who's this little fellow?"

"This is Draco Malfoy," Moody said, smiling just a little as the two toddlers inspected each other thoughtfully. "You remember... Father was a Death Eater. Took poison when he thought we'd catch up to him. Mother's a bit of a rabbit, but not bad at heart... tipped us off about the attack on the Longbottoms."

"My goodness... what is he doing here?" Molly asked curiously, giving the little boy a smile. He gazed at her solemnly for a moment, then smiled back.

"His mother's meeting with Dumbledore. She's afraid to do it anywhere less secure... if her husband's former allies ever found out, she and the boy wouldn't stand a chance." Moody shrugged. "Don't blame her for being cautious."

"Neither do I, poor thing," Molly agreed, instantly sympathetic. The poor girl had been through enough already, being married to that dreadful man, who'd killed himself and left her to face the investigation all alone.

They were on their second round of tea when a tall, pale woman slipped silently into the room. The little boy ran to her at once, holding up his latest biscuit to her and babbling happily. "Hello, Draco," she said fondly, kneeling to pick him up. He gave her the rather sticky biscuit, and she solemnly nibbled it before handing it back. "Thank you, darling," she said fondly. "You have the rest."

Molly beamed. Clearly a devoted mother, despite her youth... of course, Molly had been rather younger herself when she'd become a mother for the first time. Dumbledore followed her into the room, and introduced them, and Arabella gave the girl - Narcissa - a cup of tea. She sat down, looking very shy and holding her son on her lap, apparently heedless of all the crumbs he was dropping on her.

Eventually, as it always did, conversation turned to the Dark Lord, his defeat, and the Potters. The loss was still too recent, and too shocking, for any of the Order to keep away from it too long. Narcissa nodded and murmured agreement, but largely stayed out of the conversation between the other four... at first.

"I still can't believe that it was Sirius Black, of all people," Arabella said sadly. She'd always liked Sirius - 'that young rascal Black' she'd called him. "How he could betray his dearest friends like that..."

Moody nodded. "Volatile. Unstable," was his opinion. "Mistake to make him Secret Keeper. Even if he hadn't been Voldemort's spy..."

Narcissa frowned a little, her pretty forehead creasing. "But it wasn't Sirius who did that," she said thoughtfully. "I'm sure it wasn't."

"Sirius may have been unstable but-" Arabella stopped and stared at Narcissa. So did the other three. "What do you mean, it wasn't Sirius?"

"Who was the spy. He's my cousin, you see. I'd have known if he was the spy." Narcissa sipped her tea, her pale grey eyes thoughtful. "Everyone would have been pleased with him, not refusing to mention his name. I thought the spy was someone else..."

Molly realized, with something of a shock, that the pale, almost ghostly girl sitting beside her had been, for a great part of the covert war, on entirely the other side. Across the table, Dumbledore leaned forward, his eyes intent and his voice, when he spoke, very calm and casual. "Do you remember who it was, Narcissa?"

"I suppose you would want to know," Narcissa agreed placidly, as if the idea hadn't occurred to her until now. "He died, I believe. His name was... hm... it started with a P, I think. Pettifogger? Pettigrew? Something like that?"

There was a long, agonized moment of silence. "Peter Pettigrew?" Dumbledore whispered, his eyes wide.

"Oh, yes. That was it." She smiled a pretty, rather vacant smile. "Lucius told me, once. Is it important? Since he's dead, you know."

Moody looked ready to explode, but Dumbledore silenced him with a raised hand. "It is rather important, yes," he said calmly. "Thank you for telling us, Narcissa. Perhaps it's time that you and Draco went home? He looks ready for a nap, I think."

Narcissa looked down at the sleepy toddler in her arms and smiled fondly. "You're quite right, Professor Dumbledore, it's time for his nap. It's time for your nap, isn't it, little man?" She cooed affectionately to the child as she rose. "Thank you for the tea," she added, rather absently, and headed for the other room, presumably planning to use the fire to go home.

There was another long moment of silence. "IS IT IMPORTANT, she says!" Moody spluttered, his face purple. "Sirius Black in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit, for MONTHS now, and... is it important, she asks us?" He took a deep breath, then a gulp of tea. "I knew the girl wasn't bright, but THIS..."

"Narcissa has never been taught to consider others, and I doubt she's ever given Sirius much thought, since he was cast off by the family," Dumbledore said rather dryly. "She is entirely taken up with her son, and cares little for anything else. Try to understand, Alastor... she's made progress, but we must not expect miracles." He shook his head. "Peter Pettigrew... I can scarcely believe it. But Narcissa certainly has no reason to lie, since she obviously has little interest in her cousin's whereabouts. Or his innocence or guilt."

Alastor nodded. "We'll have him out as soon as possible," he said grimly. "It may take a while, but I'll manage something."

"The poor man," Molly said unhappily, gathering Ron up and hugging him tightly. "What he must have gone through!" Ron, too, looked sleepy, she realized. "And I should head home myself... Poor Arthur must be ready to Stupefy the children by now to get some peace."

"Of course, Molly. And do let him know the news of Sirius's innocence." Dumbledore smiled at her, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. "An unnamed witness, do you think, Alastor? A Muggle, perhaps, only just discovered..."