Ugh. OK, I said I was not going to update this because I'm working on another story (For the Better, from The Devil Wears Prada fandom, if you're interested). But while doing some spring cleaning I came across a nearly completed chapter 2 on my notebook, so I just had to type it up and go. So here ya go. Don't get used to it!

Also, if you're someone waiting on FtB, I'M SORRY, I'M GETTING TO IT I PROMISE.

Reviews are appreciated!

~Naralanis


"Are you sure about this, Mother?"

"I'm not known for dithering."

Grey-blue eyes rolled.

"I saw that."

"Sorry."

Draco helped his mother catalogue the last bits of her research before organizing them neatly into her ornate trunk. Narcissa was impeccably organized in all facets of her life, except when it came to her research. Said research was usually scattered about the room in hastily written sheets of parchment. Now, with her impending move, the two were taking the time to properly organize everything before she started her teaching career.

The young man sighed as he took in the sight of his mother's office. The shelves that were usually lined with books were bare. The paintings adorning the walls were gone. A couple of cabinets were slightly open, but they were just as empty.

"What of the Manor once you go?" he asked, for what seemed to be the millionth time. Narcissa was the only one still living at Malfoy Manor. His father had lost it in the divorce, not that it mattered much in his decrepit cell in Azkaban. Meanwhile, Draco and his wife were temporarily living in London.

"I told you, I want you and Astoria to move in. Make this a happy home. Barring that, burn it. I don't care what happens to this house." Narcissa said, rifling through a wad of papers.

"Astoria and I are quite happy at the townhouse, Mother." Draco reasoned half-heartedly.

Narcissa rolled her eyes, eerily like her son had done only moments prior.

"You won't be so comfortable once your little bundle of joy starts flying around on a toy broom. Trust me, you'll want the extra room." She argued.

Draco sighed. He knew his family would probably move into the Manor at some point. He just didn't want to not have his mother there.

"Then why don't you stay with us? It's not like you'll be living at Hogwarts… will you?" he asked. Though there were a few professors who chose to live in the castle even after term ended, he seriously doubted his mother would find the staff's quarters sufficient.

"Perhaps. At any rate, I still have Black Manor to take care of. And the house at Charles Street." Narcissa said, her nose turning up in distaste at the mention of her childhood homes.

"You can have our solicitor take a look at those. Sell them, then come live with us." Draco reasoned. "Scorpius would love to have his Grandmother around. And you know Astoria would be delighted to have you."

Narcissa gave her son a funny look. It didn't matter how much she loved her grandson, she could still never think of herself as a grandmother.

"It's not my place to live with a young couple. No, I'm quite decided. Hogwarts it shall be, for the foreseeable future, at least. Now go, go, don't you have a wife and son to take care of?" She said, an unmistakable air of finality in her voice.

Draco gave her a lopsided grin, admitting defeat.

"Whatever you say, mother." He said, leaving her to her packing.

Once her son was gone, Narcissa sat at the plush chair by the bay window with a deep sigh, overlooking the gardens of the impressive manor. For years she had been the Lady of the House. Her now office had been the only room where she could find some refuge in all of her years there. When she had first married Lucius, he had outfitted the room to be her own personal library, as he knew of her deep fondness of books.

The room held her happiest memories in the dark house. It had served as a relieving balm once she found herself overwhelmed by an arranged marriage. She had felt Draco's first kicks while reading, curled up on that very chair. His first significant bout of accidental magic consisted of books flying off the shelves at astonishing speed. It was in this room where she had last spoken to Andromeda. The very room where she could recall, vividly, her last conversation with Bellatrix before her older sister lost her soul to the Dark Lord completely.

It was in this room where she had sought refuge when Tom Riddle himself invaded her life and her residence.

After the war, her acquittal and subsequent divorce, her library had transformed into so much more. Without the constraints placed upon her by her family and her marriage, she had outfitted it to be a fully functioning Potions lab, where she could work on everything she dreamed of working on since she was a student. She had even found some of her old Hogwarts notes tucked away with her old schoolbooks. Once she was finished, the left side of the room was overtaken by counter space, cabinets, cauldrons and measuring instruments. It felt good to delve into Potions once more.

Now, the room was bare. Her books, cauldrons, instruments and ingredients were packed. It was bittersweet, to be sure, but Narcissa welcomed the change with open arms. She never thought she would go back to Hogwarts. She hadn't thought it once she graduated – and then she hadn't thought it after the war, once she did return only to witness so much bloodshed.

The former Mrs. Malfoy tucked away the last of her notes, closing her trunk with a gentle tap of her wand. The click it made reminded her of her first day as a student, and she could not help but smile at the memory.

"Merlin's saggy underpants, Cissy! What are you trying to do, take your O.W.L.S. before you're even sorted?" cried Bella, finding her youngest sister surrounded by parchment and open books on her bed.

Narcissa smiled guiltily, but made no answer.

"Oh, Bella, she's just excited, is all. Weren't you, as a first year?" Andromeda pointed out gently, grinning proudly at the blonde 11-year-old sprawled in bed with notes.

"Excited, yes. Studious, Salazar help me, no" retorted Bellatrix, crossing her arms in amusement.

Narcissa blushed furiously, scrambling to gather her books and papers.

"I was just reading, that's all!" she cried, clutching a heavy tome to her small chest.

"Really? What do we have here?" interjected Bella, forcefully taking the book from her sister with amused glee, ignoring her protests. " 'Hogwarts: A History'? Merlin, Cissy, at least read something you haven't memorized yet." She joked, delighting on how red the youngest Black was turning.

"Oh, Bella, stop it" Andromeda admonished, taking the book from her oldest sister and returning it to Narcissa. "You can read and write as much as you like, Cissy. You're going to be the brightest witch Hogwarts has ever seen!" she said happily. The young blonde smiled.

"Just take care not to do it too much; it wouldn't do for you to end up in Ravenclaw." Bella piped in.

Narcissa held back the tears brimming at her blue eyes. The longing and the hurt were too much to bear. She had studied to the point of mockery from her peers; but it never lasted long. Not with Bellatrix and Andromeda by her side; no one dared mock the Black sisters.

The youngest Black sibling choked on a stifled sob. At least she had those happy memories, even if they were clouded by the dark shadows of the years that followed. Dark, terrible years. She could remember with more clarity than she cared to have, her sister's descent into madness. With each passing year, Bellatrix's mind was poisoned and deformed past the point of no return. Narcissa remembered her sister's eyes becoming hollower and hollower, until they were nothing but empty shells of black. That was after Bellatrix returned from Azkaban.

And Andromeda. Narcissa had kept in secret correspondence with her after her elopement, after her own marriage to Lucius, even. She missed her sister dearly; but one day Bellatrix had found out. It had been the last time she had seen her middle sister, in her library.

Narcissa stopped her memories; it would not do to dwell in the past, when all it brought was pain and suffering. Bellatrix was dead. In fact, her sister had been dead long before Bellatrix Lestrange fell to Molly Weasley's wand. And Andromeda… Andromeda was another matter.

She stood up, refusing think about it any longer. She had a new goal now; a new opportunity, and Merlin damn her if she did not take it. To say that Minerva's owl had surprised her was the understatement of the century, but Narcissa was not about to say no to such an offer. She had the chance to return to the castle and make new memories; hopefully for the better this time.

She turned to her desk, where Minerva's letter sat, open and smudged. Narcissa had read it and re-read it so many times over that the ink had begun to fade by the edges. She had been shocked Minerva would even consider her for such a position. True, Potions Masters were hard to find, but the former Mrs. Malfoy was sure the Hogwarts Headmistress could have found someone if she looked hard enough. There were quite a few notable wizards in America and France with a talent for the subject. Then again, she presumed Hogwarts would benefit most from someone in tune with its history, its struggles.

With another wave of her wand, her trunk shrunk to the size of a matchbox. Another flick and swish levitated it to her nearly empty desk, landing with a sharp thud that belied its new size. That was certainly one thing she did not miss from her times at Hogwarts; lugging the trunk to the train. Although she had to admit the red locomotive held a special place in her heart. Sadly, she would not be using it to get to the castle. She chuckled when imagining the reactions of students when none other than the Malfoy Ice Queen stepped into the compartments.

She might as well spare them until the opening feast.

"Mione! Come on in! You're late, what in Merlin's name were you doing, studying?" Ron joked as Hermione stepped into the Burrow, giving her a healthy clap on the back.

"Very funny, Ronald. I was preparing for the term, in case you forgot. It starts pretty soon, you know. As in tomorrow." She retorted, wheezing from his form of greeting.

The ginger just laughed, his eyes twinkling, moving in for one of his bear hugs. Hermione reciprocated, laughing with her best friend.

"I'm so happy you could make it" he said sincerely. Between his job as an Auror and hers as a Professor, the two hadn't had the time to hang out and talk like they used to. The Golden Trio saw each other pretty often when Hermione still worked for the DMLE, but after she left and Harry got a promotion and a family, it was hard to make the time. Ron himself had just gotten a promotion, heading a new division of the Aurors that would be stationed in Ireland in a year's time.

"How are things going? How's Lavender?" Hermione asked, sincerely happy for her friend. The news of his promotion and his engagement to their former classmate were the reason for the party at the Burrow, where everyone had gathered to celebrate.

"She's doing great! Come on in, she's expecting you." Ron said, his smile reaching his eyes.

Hermione walked in, arm-in-arm with her best friend. Once upon a time, they both thought she'd be the one marrying him. Instead, when the dust had cleared after the war, it became clear that they simply were not meant to be. Hermione would never be a housewife and mother of half a dozen children, and Ron would never want anything else. They both wanted peace and quiet, only in completely different forms, and after about a year of trying, they realized it themselves. The former lovers parted amicably, and no one was happier for Ron and Lavender than Hermione; that is, with the possible exception of Molly Weasley.

"My Merlin, there she is! Hermione, sweetie! It's been so long, too long!" cried the Weasley matriarch once she saw the brunette. The brightest witch of her age quickly found herself enveloped in a rib-crushing hug as Molly Weasley sang her praises and chided her for not visiting as often.

"Hello, Molly" she said, once she finally had her breath back.

The party was taken outside; there were simply too many people to dine in the Burrow's close quarters. Instead, a long table was set up outside, candles floating high up in the air providing the light. Hermione immediately greeted Ginny Potter, with a very enthusiastic James on her lap. Little James had just begun to show some signs of accidental magic: earlier that week he had turned his father's hair Weasley red, which nearly gave Molly a heart attack and made Ginny refuse to sleep next to him until it was fixed. Harry stood proudly (hair thankfully back to its normal hue) by his wife and son, looking happier than he had in years.

Arthur Weasley was next in greeting Hermione, quickly pledging to show her his latest modified Muggle contraption. Arthur had only recently retired from the Ministry, so he had had ample time to tinker with Muggle knick-knacks. Bill and Fleur were also there, their young daughter in tow, the spitting image of the Frenchwoman. George and a very pregnant Angelina were present, as well as Andromeda Tonks, who was on the heels of a very excitable, purple-haired child.

"Mione!" cried Teddy Lupin, jumping to the brunette with glee, nearly tackling her to the ground.

"Edward Remus Lupin, you'll settle down right now!" called Andromeda. She looked at the brunette sheepishly.

"I'm so sorry, Mione. You know how he gets" she quipped apologetically. Hermione simply laughed.

"It's nothing, Andromeda. Teddy here is just so happy that his favorite aunt is here, aren't you?" Hermione teased, hugging the young boy fiercely. "And look at your hair! Purple suits you." She said.

"Look at my eyes, 'Mione! I can make them different colors!" Teddy said excitedly, changing one eye to blue while the other remained hazel.

"That's impressive! Now tell me, Teddy, how's that pig nose coming along?"

The engagement party had been peaceful and wonderful. At some point Ginny had gotten out her record player from her school days, and now they all sat at the table enjoying the smooth tones of Celestina Warbeck. Hermione sat by Neville and Luna, facing Harry and Ginny, who had handed off James to his grandmother. Ron and Lavender sat next to them, absorbed in happiness.

"So, Hermione, ready for term?" Luna asked from Neville's side. "Neville was still working on class plans early this morning."

"Only because I was figuring out what was wrong with the new Aconite batch I received yesterday!" her husband defended. Hermione only laughed.

"I am ready, Luna. A few days ago I was still finishing up my class plans myself. Though I am proud to say I already have an exam schedule for all my classes." The brunette said.

"Hermione, you didn't change much from student to teacher, y'know?" Ginny quipped, making all laugh with Gryffindor's Golden Girl.

"To McGonagall 2.0!" Ron yipped, raising his cup of Firewhiskey, earning a glare from Hermione.

"Hear, hear!"

"You are pretty diligent as a professor, Mione. Not that that's news to anyone here" laughed Neville. "Exams and class plans otherwise, how are you for this term?" he asked.

Hermione looked at him, puzzled.

"Should be fine. Same as every term, I suppose." She replied.

"What Neville means" quipped Luna "is how are you feeling about having Narcissa on staff this year." She clarified.

Once the name 'Narcissa Black' left Luna's lips, their side of the table fell silent. Ron looked surprised, Lavender looked confused, and Harry and Ginny looked a little uncomfortable.

"Narcissa Black?" Ron said, his surprise evident. "She's at Hogwarts?"

"Yes" Hermione confirmed. "She's taking Slughorn's position."

"You were in Ireland, I guess we all just forgot to mention it." Harry said. Hermione had spoken of Minerva's intentions of hiring the former Malfoy matriarch a few weeks before, at his birthday dinner. Ron had been unable to attend due to his promotion.

"Why, blimey, I didn't even know she was still around. Potions?" Ron asked, puzzled.

Hermione nodded.

"Apparently she's been working on her Potions Mastery for the past few years, the past two as a Potions Researcher for St. Mungo's. I read some of her publications on The Practical Potioneer and The International Potions Review. I have to say, I was impressed." The young professor pointed out.

"Still, Hermione, are you OK with this?" Harry asked, concern tinging his tone. Her peers looked at Hermione expectantly. She shrugged.

"The school needs a qualified Potions teacher. She's qualified. That's all that matters." She said finally.

The group seemed to accept her answer, and quickly dissolved into its own parallel conversations. Neville scooted closer to Hermione, whispering.

"I'm glad, Hermione. I'm very excited to work with Narcissa, I was hoping you would be OK with it." He confessed.

The brunette was nothing short of shocked. She would have never thought Neville Longbottom would be looking forward to working with Narcissa Black, of all people. Really, she'd think he didn't want anything to do with the woman: her deranged sister had tortured his parents to the point of insanity.

Neville chuckled softly at her look of confusion.

"I know, I know… Not quite what you expected to hear from me, yes?" he joked.

"To say the least" she agreed. "What… I don't even know how to start this question" she admitted.

The young Herbology Professor sighed deeply.

"It's complicated… But I guess everyone will know sooner or later. Narcissa is helping mum and dad." He whispered, looking like a huge burden was lifted off his chest.

His confession only left Hermione with more questions.

"Helping? How?" she asked. She really wanted to know how on earth Narcissa Black could help the Longbottoms. They had been interned at St. Mungo's for most of Neville's lifetime. Surely nothing could be done. She didn't want to say it outright, however; it seemed insensitive.

"Part of her research is how Potions are used to heal body and mind. It's quite interesting. I won't go into the details as of now, but we've been working together on some research that might help my… well, it might help people who've had their minds altered by magic." He said in a rushed whisper.

Hermione was simply stunned. Narcissa Black, ex-wife of a Death Eater and sister to the Dark Lord's most faithful servant… Helping those who had suffered at their hands? The brunette couldn't help but ask herself why. Appearances? Guilt? A genuine desire to make amends? There was no figuring out the youngest Black sister.

"And that's not all" Neville continued at Hermione's contemplative silence. "She's donating Black Manor to St. Mungo's. It'll become a new permanent-resident ward. Sort of like those psychiatric wards for Muggles, I guess. We're moving mum and dad there by Christmas."

"She wha…" Hermione started, forgetting to whisper.

"Sh!" Neville interrupted. "Not everyone knows yet. It'll inevitably surface by then, but for now we're keeping it under wraps." He clarified.

"Neville" Hermione whispered "that's… That's… Incredible? Surprising? I don't really know what to say right now. How long has she been helping you?"

"She only approached me a few months ago. Her research on this has been going on for at least two or three years though. It looks really promising." He said, and the hint of hope in his voice was unmistakable.

"Neville…"

"I'm not getting my hopes up" he said, though his eyes belied his certainty "I know they're too far gone. But it could help other people."

Hermione simply nodded.