Chapter 3
Narcissa couldn't remember a time when she'd been happier, or felt so much hope for the future. Merlin, she loved muggle lingerie. One glance and Lucius had capitulated completely on the idea of her continuing to spend time in the muggle world. If she'd known about it at the beginning of her marriage she was confident she would have been able to convince Lucius to move out of the Manor and get a place of their own, at least for a few years. Presently, it was responsible for the not-so-minor miracle of getting her husband to agree to having the Grangers over for dinner while the children were home for the Easter holidays, and even arranging for their transportation, all the while believing he got the better end of the deal. Better late than never, she supposed, it was a wonderful weapon to have in her arsenal moving forward. She'd have to get Helen Granger a present for taking her to that first lingerie shop, maybe she'd like a small holiday cottage somewhere?
On top of that coup was the fact that her father-in-law was dead. She couldn't even muster up any guilt at being thoroughly joyful over the fact. Abraxas Malfoy was no longer on this mortal plane to terrorize his son and grandson. Even all the way from France where he'd been sick and dying he'd gotten into her husband's head; cruel and vindictive, making Lucius second guess every move he made. No, she didn't feel guilty; good riddance to poor rubbish and all that. And if she'd somehow hastened his death due to the sheer frequency that she'd wished for it over the years, well, she didn't feel badly about that either.
She had been relatively lucky in his treatment of her, the man had seen her as nothing more than the means to an end; notably: producing an heir, and he'd largely left her alone. Once she'd done her duty he'd ignored her completely except to make obligatory small talk at social functions. He'd been quite adept at pretending not to be a monster, it was no wonder he'd worshipped the Dark Lord. No, he'd focused on his son, and to the extent Lucius had been unable to shield him, on his grandson.
While Abraxas drew breath she'd been terrified for her husband and child and the influence he had on them. That had been a major reason she'd been so anxious to encourage a relationship between Draco and Hermione. She saw it as nothing but simple truth that her own presence in Lucius' life, and to a lesser extent the love that his mother had been allowed to show him, had kept Lucius from becoming his father. She wanted to make sure Draco had a similar influence in his life, even if his father had been far better to him than Abraxas had been to Lucius.
She was so proud of the way Lucius protected their child from their Head of House. He couldn't keep Draco from the man completely, but he was able to convince him that they were rearing Draco in a way in which he would approve, the way Lucius had been raised, and as a result he stayed out of day to day interactions with the child. Now they were free to treat Draco as they pleased, and they didn't have to hide away in their wing of the Manor to do it.
Her mother-in-law had removed herself back across the Channel, to the homeland she'd never wanted to leave in the first place, almost the moment her husband's body was in the family crypt. After a lifetime trapped in an arranged marriage to a psychopath she'd hardly even laid eyes on before her wedding day, Narcissa couldn't blame the woman. She and Anneliese had always co-existed tolerably well, though they'd never become close, the older witch having retreated into herself long before Narcissa entered the picture. Still, she felt lighter with her gone, able to be the mistress of her own house for the first time in her life.
And so, she was having muggles over for dinner and she'd even managed to convince her husband that she wouldn't have gone forward with that idea without his permission. She'd been so pleased to read over the past weeks as Draco and Hermione had both started referencing the other in their letters with increasing frequency and more fondness. Then she'd even seen Draco most solicitously helping Hermione disembark the Hogwarts Express when it arrived in London for the Easter holidays. If she wasn't Narcissa Malfoy née Black she would have lept for joy. When she greeted them both with hugs she could positively feel a bond humming between them, no longer latent, they'd obviously become consciously attached to each other over the course of the term. She did so love it when her plans came together.
She had been to the Granger residence enough times for tea or shopping with Helen that she'd was able to apparate in to pick them up for the arranged meal. She brought along a portkey which deposited all four of them into the Entrance Hall of Malfoy Manor. It was showing off a bit, she was aware how impressive that area of the house was. But she wanted to put their best foot forward and show the Grangers how an association with House Malfoy could benefit their daughter. And, eventually, how much Draco had to offer her.
Lucius stood there looking intentionally intimidating. She'd been unable to reason with him on the subject of his clothing. He had donned full dress robes complete with waistcoat and cravat, knee high dragon hide boots, and he was insistently carrying his walking stick, which was usually set aside at home. She herself was in a silk day dress, lovely but simple, suited for a meal with friends rather than a formal dinner party. Draco had been wearing a shirt and trousers when she'd left, but his father had apparently made him put on a set of robes in her absence. Thankfully they were a more everyday set and he didn't look nearly as formal- read: unwelcoming- as his father. He even had a small smile on his face when his eyes fell on Hermione. When was the last time she'd seen him smile at somebody other than herself or Claire? She'd bet he'd still been small enough to be allowed to sit on his father's knee at the time.
The greetings were more than awkward, Lucius all but wiped his hands on his robes after taking the Grangers' hands. Narcissa ducked her head in embarrassment, her husband could be many things but he could never before have been called uncouth. He would pay for that later.
They adjourned to the sitting room for pre-dinner drinks. Draco and Hermione had gravitated towards each other from the moment the portkey arrived and when the group went to depart the entrance hall he immediately offered her his arm. She looked a bit surprised by the gesture but didn't hesitate to take it. Hermione cast a wary glance at Lucius who glared at her, and then tucked herself even closer to Draco. Narcissa was aware what an intimidating figure her husband was, especially for a young girl, and for her to seek protection from Draco in the face of his own father was quite a display of trust. She sighed happily but sharply pinched Lucius' forearm in retaliation for his scare tactics when he offered her his own arm. He didn't flinch.
In the sitting room Hermione and Draco arranged themselves on the same settee and much closer than most girls and boys their ages would have been comfortable sitting, but they appeared unfazed. She saw Draco glance at herself and her husband as they took their seats and then lean in to speak quietly to Hermione; she visibly relaxed. Silence descended on the room and Narcissa realized that she'd been so focused on watching the children and hadn't considered how difficult this would be, even given Lucius' earlier behavior. She had erroneously assumed that once they were inside of the house Lucius would behave as the consummate host he usually was and make the Grangers feel comfortable. But, apparently because they were muggles, he had no such compunction, and he seemed content to remain silent while the other three adults floundered for a topic of conversation.
Hermione seemed overwhelmed and Draco seemed uncertain as to how to behave, to follow his father's lead or his mother's. Narcissa had bonded with Helen, but it was over things that women had in common, nothing that would draw either of the men or children into the conversation. So, Narcissa did something parents the world over have done for generations, she turned the spotlight on the children.
"Hermione, dear, are you still enjoying transfiguration? Even Draco has remarked to me that you seem to have a particular talent for it."
"Oh! I really am, it's just such a fascinating subject to me. Professor McGonagall is supposed to be such a tough teacher but I just feel honored to be taught by a master of her craft like that, I mean she's an animagus! I'd love to be able to do that," she sighed dreamily.
Narcissa actually heard her husband sniff in disdain at the girl's enthusiastic rambling.
"Draco's really good at potions though," Hermione ducked her head shyly.
It was sweet that she wanted to compliment their son, but something needed to be done about her obvious self-esteem issues which resulted in an endless need to please.
"I've been learning since I was five," Draco chimed in, with a self-deprecating shrug.
Narcissa almost gaped at her son as he downplayed a talent she knew he was actually very proud of to make a friend feel better.
"We all have different talents, though I'll tell you a secret Hermione, it's always good to have a friend who's a dab hand at potions, an apothecary is no substitute for a fresh brew."
She winked at the young witch who giggled, and she was especially gratified to see Draco sit up a little straighter at her implied compliment.
"But, perhaps, again, you could show us some of what you've been learning? I know you can't use your magic at home," she addressed Hermione, "would that be alright?" she asked the Grangers.
The couple exchanged a quick glance.
"That would be lovely, if you wouldn't mind, sweetheart," said Richard.
"Of course!" Hermione grinned enthusiastically.
Narcissa watched with approval as Hermione carefully removed her wand from the arm holster she'd recommended the young witch purchase. She summoned a teacup and handed it to Hermione with a nod. The girl responded with a beaming smile, placed it on a table, and efficiently transfigured it into a mouse. She let it run about for a minute and then turned it back into the teacup from Lucius' grandmother's favorite set of china. It was an impressive feat for a witch of her age, especially given the lack of trouble Hermione seemed to have as she performed the spells. It wasn't just a matter of power, most first years lacked that kind of concentration.
"I'm sorry," interrupted Helen, she looked at her husband questioningly and he gave her a subtle nod, "it's not that we don't find that impressive. It's just that after considering what you told me, Narcissa, about what the kids are expected to learn this year, we have some reservations about the practicality of this kind of magic."
Narcissa breathed in through her nose and prayed to Circe that Lucius had somehow failed to hear that comment. She knew that she couldn't blame them, how could muggles understand magic? But that was the kind of thinking that she feared would paint them as outsiders forever. It certainly wouldn't increase Lucius' tolerance of them.
"It's instructive," she explained, with an effort not to sound too terse, "it's important that they learn these skills as their magical cores grow and stabilize and as they learn to control their magic to build up to more taxing tasks. You're right, Hermione will probably have no need to transfigure a teacup into a mouse, but the exercise teaches her the skills to perform more complicated and more powerful transfigurations. To conjure items, to transfigured bigger more complicated objects out of rubbish, you need to learn these simple skills first."
"Like arithmetic to do calculus later," she heard Richard murmur to his wife.
Narcissa didn't understand the whole of that statement, but she understood enough.
"Not that simple transfigurations can't have their uses in everyday life, but the purpose of the course it to learn to control that aspect of your magic and build to something greater."
"I've been working on something else," Hermione piped up.
"What's that, Dearest?" Narcissa prompted.
She watched warily as Hermione intentionally set her wand aside, not just back in its holster, but on the coffee table in front of her. She held out her hand and took several deep breaths, and then there was suddenly an orb of perfectly conjured bluebell flames hovering above her palm. There was a very small part of Narcissa that wanted to gloat, like anybody else she enjoyed being proven right and there was no way that Lucius could deny Hermione's potential now, but that small spark of delight was viciously extinguished by the rest of her which felt only gut clenching fear for the girl she'd already started to love as her own.
She cut her eyes to Lucius, for guidance or comfort, she wasn't sure. But he was just sat in his armchair, eyes fixed on the impossible blue flames, mouth slightly open. She wondered how long it would be before he began to plot. It was their son who broke the silence.
"Wicked!" Draco exclaimed, "you've got to show me how to do that!"
"No!" she said automatically, more sharply than she would have liked.
Hermione's proud and excited eyes dimmed immediately. She took a deep breath, knowing she had to tread carefully, both to avoid scaring the children or the Grangers, and to make sure she got her point across without offending anybody or tempting the children to rebel against her word.
"Can you vanish them, please?" she asked Hermione.
She nodded and in the blink of an eye they were gone.
"Is there something wrong?" Helen asked.
She shook her head.
"Not wrong, exactly, just unexpected. There are some things we need to discuss," she turned to Hermione, "how did you learn to do that? I need you to be very honest with me now."
Hermione just shrugged her now hunched shoulders.
"I was looking for a way to keep warm when we're outside, the upper years don't leave the best spots for us."
Yes, Narcissa remembered all the sheltered areas being taken by older students who knew the lay of the land better than the firsties, it was kind of an unofficial Hogwarts initiation. But it was a long winter in Scotland and it was impossible to stay inside all the time, you'd go crazy, so you learned to cope, apparently Hermione had learned better than most. Narcissa nodded for her to continue.
"I read about bluebell conjuration while I was doing a bit of light reading and I thought if I could figure out how to do it and place them in something to contain them, then I would have a portable heat source. I got it on the first try and figured out a jar was good for keeping them from setting anything else on fire but still spread the warmth around."
"How did you figure out how to conjure them wandlessly and wordlessly and to keep them in control like that?"
Hermione squirmed and Narcissa's anxiety grew.
"I don't know how to explain it," she said in a small voice.
"Do your best," Narcissa responded calmly but firmly.
"When I did the spell for the first time I could feel the magic. So I thought if I reached for that feeling again I could do it with just my magic. I mean, all those things I did when I was little I did without a wand," she answered innocently, if hesitantly- she obviously knew she was walking a fine line, she just wasn't sure why.
It was both a naive and insightful comment. She was going to have to get Hermione to start thinking like a witch and stop thinking like a muggle as soon as possible, lest it put her in danger. But, at the same time, she didn't want to stifle her creativity. They'd give her a safe place, she determined at once. The Manor would be her laboratory.
"And is that what you did? You reached for the magic and then you could...feel the spell?" Narcissa struggled to find a way to word her inquiry, never having experienced such a phenomenon herself.
Hermione brightened.
"Yes ma'am! Exactly like that, and then once I could feel it, it was easy to control, I feel much more connected than when I use my wand," she bit her lip, "but I've done something wrong, haven't I?"
"Not wrong," Narcissa answered for the second time, "but you could have put yourself in danger and we need to talk about this. Has anybody seen you do this, wandlessly I mean?"
She shook her head vigorously.
"I've been practicing at night in bed."
Narcissa sighed.
"Hermione, what made you think that conjuring flames of all things was a good idea while amidst your bedclothes? You could have burned to death."
Helen inhaled sharply and Hermione's mouth formed a small 'o' of realization.
"What you have done is very impressive, but I want you to promise me you won't experiment like that again without supervision."
"I promise," she said without hesitation.
"Draco, if Hermione can teach you this skill and you have the patience to learn I would be happy for you to, wandless magic is an invaluable resource and Hermione has gotten a good start on it, but you both must wait until this summer when your father or I can oversee your studies. Now please take Hermione and give her a tour of the house, the adults have things that need discussing before dinner."
The children beat a hasty retreat, Hermione to escape the scrutiny and Draco, no doubt, to quiz her on her accomplishment. She hoped they'd take her warning seriously but at least she didn't think they could get into too much mischief in the few minutes she needed to talk to the Grangers.
"I think from your reaction that we know there's a problem here," Helen began, looking at Narcissa, they'd built a friendship over the months and Narcissa knew the other woman trusted her not to lie.
"Truly not a problem, but a complication, I suppose you could say."
She tried to hide the fact that she was chewing her lip while trying to find a way to adequately explain the situation to people who lived outside of their community; she had been a girl the last time she'd resorted to such tactics, but Hermione, just a girl herself, had thrown her for a loop.
"Your daughter has exhibited an ability which most fully trained witches and wizards, at the height of their power, are unable to exert. Wandless magic, as an art, is nearly lost," Lucius interrupted abruptly.
She noticed a sheen to his eyes and knew that he'd figured out a way to use the poor girl, that would have to be nipped in the bud. She was as Slytherin as he, but his callous disregard for those whose surname was not Malfoy needed to be curtailed; family first, of course, but it wasn't always that simple. Especially because, one day she fully intended for Hermione to be family.
"My husband has gotten right to the heart of the matter," she began, a little annoyed at his blunt explanation, "Hermione is exhibiting skills not only beyond what is believed possible for her age range, but also what most witches are capable of at all. The danger here is twofold: that she could hurt herself, or another, if she continues to use her magic in such an experimental way, especially unsupervised; and that she could become the target of an unsavory element of our society either to recruit her or to eliminate her if it becomes known how powerful she is."
Richard opened his mouth, obviously about to let loose a litany of feelings on that idea but his wife grabbed his hand in warning.
"I won't lie," she confessed, "a large part of me wants to pull Hermione from Hogwarts immediately, it was difficult enough for us to allow her to go in the first place, but now you're saying she could be some kind of target? But we've been apprised of the repercussions of that decision. I can't, in good conscience, let them take our memory of magic from us and leave Hermione with a lifetime of 'accidents' she can neither control nor explain. I assume it would only get worse as she gets older?"
"It would," Narcissa conceded, "the occurrences would be less frequent, perhaps, adults are better at channeling their emotions in a productive way, but when they did happen- especially given the power Hermione has already demonstrated- as her core strengthened they could be cataclysmic."
"What would you do if you were us?"
Helen asked at the same time her husband spoke.
"And why should we trust you?"
Narcissa reached across the space between them to lay a calming hand on her own husband's arm, he would not appreciate her integrity being called into question, but it would not be helpful for him to lose his temper.
"I understand," she said with great dignity, "that your schedules do not allow you to be home with Hermione during the day while she's home on holidays. If I were in your position I'd allow her to come here during those hours where there will, I assure you, always be a magical adult on hand to guide and watch out for her. I can assume that your society is similar to ours in that there are unsavory elements who would exploit those with talent who are without protection, we would never allow that to happen to Hermione."
"And why should we trust your word on that?" Richard demanded anew.
She would have been insulted, but she really couldn't blame the man for wanting to protect his family. She also sympathized with the position he was in, until she'd met the Grangers she'd never considered how difficult it must be for muggle parents to let their magical children into a world they themselves had no access to, nor any ability to understand or control what happened to their child whilst there. They couldn't even see Hogwarts.
"Now see here," Lucius snarled.
She tightened her grip on his forearm in warning.
"If for no other reason than that Hermione is far too important to my Draco to allow any harm to come to her," she explained as calmly as possible.
Lucius actually growled at this confession.
"They deserve to know," she told him softly, "he's correct, they really don't have any reason to trust us with their daughter."
"What does that mean?" Helen asked with an air of put upon patience.
Narcissa took a deep breath, it went against all of her instincts to be this open with them, but it was the only way she could think of to get them to understand.
"Being a witch or wizard isn't always that straightforward, there are a number of other talents we can exhibit as a result of our magic, some are well known, some are almost myth. You are probably aware that the professor of transfiguration at Hogwarts can turn into a cat. There are those who can change their appearance at will- with some restrictions- who are called metamorphagi. There are those who can see the future, called seers. I have a lesser known and little defined talent. I see people, at least magical people, as they are. I see how they interact, I see their relationships. What I saw happening between our son and your daughter the first time I saw them together nearly blew me away. She grounds him, as he does her, and yet they enliven and inspire each other too, I would bet everything I own that Hermione would have been lost in looking for a connection to her magic to conjure those bluebell flames without her relationship to Draco, it's why I'm certain she'll be able to teach him."
"You're telling us they're, what, soulmates?" asked Helen.
Narcissa stopped short, startled, she hadn't expected the woman to make that intuitive leap.
"I don't know," she said truthfully, "my instincts say yes, but the idea of soulmates is an old one, but it's mythical, and I don't know of anyway to determine that, if it's even true. I don't read souls, no I wouldn't describe it that way. I see magic and its characteristics and...potential, I suppose you could say. Nobody's magic is the same. In the case of our children, their magic is extremely compatible, it interacts instinctively, and that makes them both stronger, and more grounded. With practice I'm fairly certain they could channel the others magic and learn to allow it to work together. But it's certainly a special connection, unique in my experience."
"So, she would have a choice?"
"A choice?" Narcissa questioned.
Helen visibly hesitated.
"Their magic won't force them into a relationship or anything like that?"
Narcissa was shocked into silence. How could she think that, like magic was some kind of malevolent power? But, of course, she was a muggle, fundamentally incapable of understanding what it was like to be a magical being. Her understanding was purely academic, simply information gathered from what she'd seen and been told. And she had confided in Narcissa that Hermione's bouts of accidental magic had terrified her parents, who hadn't known what was happening with their daughter, to the point where they'd decided not to have another child for fear of bringing anybody else into an unstable situation. Viewed from that perspective Helen's fears were justified.
"Hermione's magic is her. It is not an outside force that can be used to compel her to do anything. It is a part of her being, she simply has to learn how to use it in a controlled manner, just as we learn to control our bodies: to crawl, then to walk, then to run; our minds to process language, then to read. Learning to use magic is just a part of growing up. So of course they will have a choice, I'm not even certain they will end up in a romantic relationship at all. As I said, I saw potential and it was for something extraordinary. So I encouraged a friendship, but they forged that all on their own."
"You're still asking us to take your word for it," Richard accused.
Lucius growled again and she sighed, she supposed she should be thankful that he hadn't tried hex the man.
"You' re right, for the moment. But ask her, ask Hermione about Draco, see how she reacts. I know that she's made some friends at Hogwarts and I'm thrilled for her, but I'm telling you, those bonds won't be able to compare to the one she shares with my son. I can feel it. Did you notice how at ease they are with each other? Draco's never made friends easily and from what Hermione's told me neither has she. And yet they act like they shared a cradle rather than really only having known each other a few months."
Helen glanced at her husband.
"She talks about Draco the most," she admitted, "far more than anybody else, and I don't think she even has any idea she's doing it. It's like he's just on her mind a lot. And she seems more settled, how did you put it," she looked at Narcissa thoughtfully for a moment, "grounded. That's it, she's not so desperate to prove herself, her life doesn't seem to completely revolve around her school work anymore. I thought it was just being at Hogwarts and around other magical people, but after what you just said, I'm reconsidering," she shrugged.
"Nothing needs to be decided today. The two of you talk," she looked between Richard and Helen, "talk to Hermione. But please consider allowing her to spend some time here over the summer so that we can help her with some simple control exercises at least."
"We'll do that," Helen said, "and we won't force Hermione into anything, but I highly doubt she'd refuse an opportunity to practice her magic."
Richard went to say something but his wife interrupted.
"Tell me this isn't ultimately what we've hoped for for years, for Hermione to have friends, a support system aside from us? We wouldn't refuse to let her visit a friend in our world whose parents we'd met and whose house we'd seen. Are you honestly worried she won't be safe here? Or are you doing the overprotective father thing because Draco's a boy and Narcissa's just confided in us that she thinks they might be more than just friends one day? Something, may I remind you, she was under no obligation to share with us, she's being very gracious."
Richard harrumphed but obviously couldn't argue her point. Narcissa was actually rather glad her husband wasn't the only one behaving unreasonably, it lessened her embarrassment.
They ceased serious discussion for the night after that and adjourned to the dining room for dinner. The atmosphere was tense, conversation stilted, but all in all she thought it went reasonably well. The children seemed content, at least, if a little wary of the adults' behavior. The elves were especially attentive to Hermione and Narcissa knew that they too had noticed that she was important to their young master.
It was only later that night when she was in bed alone, having banished Lucius to a guest suite until he was prepared to apologize for his churlish behavior, that she noticed something was different. At first she thought it was discomfort at the idea of sleeping alone, but she quickly dismissed that. The change wasn't bad, but it was significant. She reached out for her bonds with her son and husband. Her connection with Draco was as strong as it ever was due to their proximity and the fact that he was safe and at peace tucked inside the ancient wards of their ancestral home. She felt a little dissociated from Lucius, but he was there and safe, if a little restless, but that served him right. But no, there is was, a new bond, the weakest of the three but present: a new member of her family.
She knew then that she'd been missing something rather vital for months. She had been so busy observing and encouraging Hermione and Draco's bond that she'd been blind to her own with the girl. She hadn't just spotted a potential life mate for Draco in the bookshop that day, she'd seen a daughter. She grinned to herself as her heart filled with warmth. She had a daughter now, another child who needed her. She would never attempt to take her from the Grangers, of course, but there were simply things that they couldn't provide for her. Narcissa could guide her as not just a woman, but as a witch. She almost wanted to giggle, she couldn't wait to see Lucius' face when he figured it out, their marital bond was simply too strong for him not to accept her as his daughter now that she already had. He would come not just to accept but to love her, and no matter what happened between her and Draco she would always be a part of their family. Despite the fact that she was sleeping alone and would no doubt have a restless night, it had been a very good day.
Author's Note: Thank you as always for all the favs, follows and reviews! The joy those alerts bring me never get old. The reviews are especially precious, before I started writing I never knew how much a few words could mean. To the guest reviewers, you are equally appreciated but unless you log in I have no way of replying or answering any questions you may have. Thanks for reading!