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Chapter Six: Mater Familias

Narcissa Black Malfoy dozed on a large fainting couch in the corner of her former bedroom. Her son, lying in a potion-induced stupor on the grand bed, hadn't changed a thing in the room since she'd left it upon the death of her husband. She was roused by the squeaky voice of a house-elf.

"Mistress?"

"Hmm?"

"Mistress, it is Tansi. Are you hearing?"

"Tansi?"

"Mistress, there is a floo call for The Young Master"

She sat up. "Who?"

"He said to say 'Hermynee's Husband'"

"Tell him the Family is indisposed"

"Tansi is trying, ma'am, but he is insisting it is important"

"Tansi" Draco mumbled from the bed

The little elf moved like a shot from a gun to the side of her Master's bed. She lowered her head in deference to him, but couldn't resist the impulse to bounce to and fro on the balls of her feet, in anticipation of being of service to her oft-absent owner.

"Tansi" he croaked again

"Yes, Master? Tansi is here"

"Tell Weasley these matters are better discussed in person. I'll floo to his residence within the hour"

"Yes, Master" she bowed and with a crack, was gone.

"Draco, I really don't think you're in any condition to go flying off to the Weasley's. That hotheaded boy is liable to hex you the moment you step out of the floo."

"I don't believe I asked what you thought, Mother"

"Will you, at least, allow me to accompany you?"

"No"

"Draco…"

"NO. If you're so intent on fretting and playing nursemaid, why don't you go to the infirmary at Hogwarts and visit Longbottom? Your efforts are wasted on me."

Narcissa huffed as her son rose from the bed and left the room. Upon arriving, three days prior, she'd discovered that part of the house was still in use, but not this part. He'd closed off all of the rooms facing Dowager House, the ones which could be seen from the old carriage road approaching the estate and most significantly, the ones her late husband had favored. Other rooms, like Draco's own childhood nursery, the Library and the Kitchen remained as ever, full of the hustle and bustle of elves, doing their best to keep the Master's house perfect and ready for guests. It looked as though Severus was right. Draco did indeed return home each summer. He just didn't let her know about it. She was still quite furious at the elves for not informing her of his presence. She had been their mistress for decades. Had they no sense of loyalty at all? Ah, but that was it exactly. Their allegiance was to The House of Malfoy. Wives come and go, but when it came right down to it, the bloodline was all that mattered to those mad little beasts. "Rather like Lucius in that respect" she mused. Rising, she made her way to Draco's suite. She'd just gotten him back in her life, if even marginally, and she wasn't going to let him slip out again. Nothing good could come of his visiting that horrid girl. She was determined to put a stop to it.

"Draco" she called as she entered his room

"GO AWAY" he shouted as he fastened the studs on his inky black robes.

"We haven't really had a chance to talk since you've returned home"

"A lack of willingness is not the same as a lack of opportunity"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"What did you want me to tell you? That I was in love with someone you and Father considered an animal? That she killed the next generation of our House because she thought it would be a more merciful death than the one Father would administer? That I performed several illegal spells, including spilling my son's blood to act as the required sacrifice to seal the bonding spell? That I am bound to her until I draw my last breath? That I am to be the last of my line?"

"That you were hurting" she said quietly

Draco turned his back to her and faced the window.

"Just please go. Go see Longbottom. If he makes you happy, stay with him. Salvage what you can of your happiness."

"Draco, I hadn't wanted to do this, but you're not giving me much of a choice"

She reached into the wardrobe by the door and took out a small, square box.

"I know about your …ah…summer activities"

He paled. "There's no need…"

"Oh, but there is. You need to move on, dear. You need to put this behind you. You're still young. You can recover from this. I'll help you look for a counter-spell; you'll marry and produce a new heir. You will do these things whether you want to or not, because it's for the best and because if you don't, I'll go to Severus and perhaps to the Ministry and begin proceedings to have you committed to St. Mungo's for your addiction"

"Severus doesn't know?" He asked

"No. I'll give you credit. The elves have done everything they could to hide your…problem, but when they saw us arrive with you, three weeks early, they panicked because the preparations hadn't been finished for your return. Severus was too concerned about you to pay much attention to the little urchins, but I knew something was amiss. It didn't take much snooping to find these" she gestured to the wardrobe.

"You can't honestly think anyone would agree to commit me…there isn't anything wrong with me."

"My darling, I know it's difficult to see from your position, but you are sick. This behavior does not approach normal." Her expression changed to one of pity. "I've seen a lot of things during my time in this family, some repulsive and frightening, some grand and wonderful, but this is the first time I've ever …"

"Mother" he interrupted "It's not that serious"

"Not that serious? You stop living for two months every summer! How do they keep you alive? The elves? A spell? A potion?"

"I modified the charm. While involved in the …ah…well, I don't require food or water during the process. I'm in a sort of stasis."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Draco, please…it's not right…"

"When has what's right or wrong ever concerned you, Mother? Not when Father brought Death Eaters into the house, not when a revel was taking place in Grandmother's garden, not when they tortured young girls in the dungeons with their dark rituals."

"Those matters were Lucius' concern. You are mine."

"I'm not addicted"

"Then throw them away! There's a reason the Ministry leaned on the Weasleys to stop selling them, you know. They're dangerous. People became helplessly addicted. They forgot to eat or sleep. That witch in Surrey died!"

"I've made several customized adjustments. They're not dangerous. They're….please, they're all I have left of her. Let me show you." He made for the box in Narcissa's hand.

He took her by the hand and led her to the bed. "Lie down"

She shook her head. "I want you to understand. This is not lunacy, it's how I've maintained my sanity." Again, she shook her head "If you're worried I'll activate the charm and then leave, I'll give you my word not to go until you're safely revived." Narcissa knitted her brows. She was desperately curious. Finally, she nodded. He opened the box and recited the incantation to activate the charm.

Narcissa's vision blurred and she felt nauseous for a moment. When the world righted itself, she was on the path from Dowager House to the garden behind the Main House. It was a bright summer day and the sun was warm on her arms, bared by the light robes she wore. In the distance, she could hear a dog bark, followed by the high pitched laughter of …a child. She gasped and began to run up the path. When she rounded the bend and saw him, her heart constricted so terribly hard within her chest, she thought she might not ever be able to regain her breath. The longing she'd felt a few days before, kneeling at the grave of her lost grandson was nothing to this. Her eyes were wet and she found herself trembling as he looked up, spotting her and giggled "NANA! See my puppy? I named him Abraxas, after that grumpy portrait in the hall outside Father's room." He could have easily been mistaken for Draco, but for the curls in his blond hair. She thought he might, standing there with the sunshine glistening on his face, have been the most beautiful person she'd ever laid eyes on. She rushed inside the gate and gathered him to her. He smelled like freshly dug garden soil with a hint of the crup who ran in circles around her feet.

"I missed you Nana" said the little boy as he wriggled out of her arms and wiped the lipstick off his chubby cheek. "Father has missed you too, let's go in and see him. He'll be so happy you're home. Do you like my dog? Father brought him home last week!" He tugged on her hand and led her through the double doors leading from the garden to the ground floor nursery where all Malfoys slept until they were old enough to climb the stairs. Inside, she found Nani, the ancient house elf, asleep in a rocking chair with a book of faerie stories open on her lap. The little boy looked up at her mischievously and put a finger to his lips. He led her out of the door and across the east side of the house to the Library. He pushed open the doors, but closed them quickly as his parents struggled to make themselves decent, stammering excuses, "Daddy was just helping Mummy", "Where's Nani?" and "Mother, when did you return? We weren't expecting you back until next week!" Narcissa grinned and called through the door "Orion and I are going to the kitchen for biscuits. When you finish helping Hermione, why don't you come find us, Darling?" Again taking his hand, she made her way to the kitchen. In a few moments, the boy's two red-faced parents joined them. She looked very closely at her son. He practically glowed with contentment. She'd never seen him so ecstatic, not even when he and Lucius convinced her after months of begging, to consent to his first sit-alone broomstick. Best of all, he embraced her, kissed her cheek and said "It's good to see you. How's Aunt Andromeda?"

She was so choked up, she hardly noticed Hermione waiting behind Draco. Her would-be daughter-in-law embraced her and said "You're looking lovelier than ever."

"Thank you" she choked out. And then, as suddenly as it had begun, she was pulled out of the dream and back into the empty bedroom of the deserted house. She looked up, expecting to see Draco. Instead, she found a note, lying on the night table.

I'm sorry, but you, of all people, ought to know a Malfoy's word is not worth the breath it takes to utter the oath.

She cursed and threw the now-crumpled parchment to the floor.