Thank the flu for knocking me the hell down to the point where I could do nothing else but write. Any weirdness in this chapter can be attributed to copious amounts of meds. Hope you enjoy!
~Naralanis
"Thank you so much for doing this, Harry." Hermione said gratefully as she and The-Boy-Who-Lived nursed healthy doses of Ogden's Finest at the Hog's Head. Harry merely waved her off with a sad smile, his unkempt hair swaying with the shake of his head.
"No worries" he slurred a bit. Perhaps they had overindulged; thankfully the Ministry's Star Auror would not be needing to drunkenly Apparate back to his home – Abeforth had been kind enough to keep his Floo open. "Susan's one of my bessst. She's certainly better than any of those daft bureaucrat bastards at WiSer".
Hermione raised her drink to that, and Harry mirrored her; they downed them simultaneously after a short moment of inebriated contemplation. She had spent the better part of an hour detailing the newest developments concerning William White, and her reasons for wanting someone better than the usual WiSer fare on the case. To her dismay, Harry had told her the same as McGonagall, but the silver lining was that he was not above pulling some Chosen One strings to do a little more.
Hence why Auror Susan Bones had a new assignment. Part of Hermione felt a fraction of guilt – surely there were better assignments for such a talented member of Magical Law Enforcement. Harry, however, had dismissed her concerns; Bones had just returned from a rather rough stint tracking a network of traders dealing with the Dark Arts, so he guaranteed she would like the relative peace of watching a Muggle household for a little while.
"Really, can't thank you enough" she babbled. Harry rolled his eyes.
"It's the least I can do" He said, eyeing his empty glass with unnatural interest. "Part of me wants to march up there and give those people a piece of my mind... Or at least come hang with this William kid and give him a fair bit of advice. I felt what he felt on my own skin."
Hermione sighed, running a comforting hand down Harry's back. The Wizarding world at large had no idea how badly their Golden Boy had been treated as a child, and Harry preferred it that way. If anyone questioned his incredibly charitable donations to wizarding and Muggle orphanages, they probably chalked it up to his memory of James and Lilly, or his desire to honour his godson's parents somehow. Which was just as well.
"I know" she agreed. "I don't want him to go back to that when the term is over."
Harry perked up. "Maybe we can do something about that. I could talk to him, make sure there is a wish to get out... He could come stay with me, at Grimmauld."
Hermione's heart swelled. Harry was the kindest, most caring person she had ever known, with a heart of gold. He probably wouldn't have forgotten how unfeasible that was so soon after they discussed it if they hadn't imbibed.
"That'd be great... but we can't" she quipped morosely. "Stupid laws".
"Coming from the DMLE's star, that's saying something."
That made her laugh. "Come off it. I haven't been in the DMLE for years."
He shrugged. "Aw, hell, Hermione. You're still sorely missed."
Despite not ever wanting to return to the chaos that was the DMLE, there was a little part of Hermione could not help but preen a little at the observation. Despite her obvious intelligence, passionate activism, and essential role in the war, there were still those who didn't expect much from Gryffindor's Golden Girl as she was swept into the daily grime and grit of Magical Law Enforcement.
Hermione loved learning, reading, and thinking. But she also loved to prove wrong those who underestimated her.
"Well, no use crying over spilled butterbeer – I am gone from the DMLE forever" she declared, emphatically raising her empty glass.
"Hear, hear!" Harry chimed. "May generations at Hogwarts tremble before Professor Granger's commanding glare!"
Hermione categorically denied her ability to glare while glaring at him.
It had taken Narcissa hours and hours to get to bed, and sleep itself could only come much later. When it did, it was weakened and tentative, hesitant to take her and gift her with peace. The little she did achieve was restless and interrupted by unwanted dreams.
It was terror, however, that woke her up late into the night – sheer and absolute panic as she felt a rush of cold air envelop her body in a sudden chill that made her teeth clatter. Her body tensed, blood turning to ice in her veins at the mere memory of the haunting creatures that had contributed so much in pushing her sister off the edge of a cliff called insanity. The fear only worsened as her hand blindly clutched at her wand – always easily accessible – chilling her to the bone as the taunting reminder of her inability to cast a Patronus charm invaded her mind.
Narcissa turned rapidly, tangling herself in her own covers, sweat beading onto her forehead. The relief she felt as The Bloody Baron materialised into his usual form from a fine cold mist was simply immeasurable. He was deep into a bow before looking even remotely solid.
"Madam Black" his melodious voice echoed in her small chambers "do forgive me, if it be true I has't frightened thee."
She waved off his apology, body awash with relief it was the Slytherin House ghost, not a dementor. "Think nothing of it, Lord Albert" she said, getting her voice under control so it wouldn't sound too shrill with whatever remained of her initial fear. "What brings you here?"
"Peeves hath proven useful to thy cause" he said solemnly, never breaking his bow. "The spectre spake of a sullen young gent making his way to the Owlery."
Narcissa's brows furrowed. "William White?"
The Baron's translucent form nodded. "Indeed, Madam. There is another who followeth Master White, hidden in the shadows."
The Potions Professor was alert at once, tossing her tangled covers onto the stone floor without a care. "Thank you, my friend," she said eagerly, waving her wand and summoning her robes from her chest of drawers. "Where are they now?"
"Make haste, Madam, and with thy luck may surprise them by the West Staircase."
She did not need to be told twice. Lord Albert sunk to the floor, disappearing as quickly as he had come, and Narcissa wasted no time, simply putting her robes over nightgown. She practically ran out of the Dungeons, going the opposite direction most people would take if going to the West side of the castle – for once somewhat glad Bellatrix had thought it fitting to teach her baby sister some tricks to getting around the grand castle. As she ducked into a wall that suddenly enveloped her and let her out right by the West Corridor at the Main Floor, she wordlessly cast another charm to quickly catch up, concealing her person – who knew she'd thank Bellatrix twice in one night?
As she glided through the dark, empty corridors, she saw that William White had just turned the corner after climbing the stairs – Narcissa clearly saw the glimmer of his blonde hair just before it disappeared. The other figure, the one just reaching the bottom of the staircase, she could not immediately recognize. It was clearly a student – small, perhaps a first or second year, but he was definitively not in her House.
The student in question turned to see if he was being followed, and in doing so, his face was illuminated by enough moonlight for Narcissa to recognize him: Stuart Davies, a Gryffindor, which frankly puzzled her. Stuart's eyes widened in horror at the black mist that hovered stealthily in his direction.
Narcissa immediately terminated the charm, and the mixture of horror and relief on Stuart's face as he recognized his Potions Professor materializing from dark smoke before him was nearly comical.
"P-p-professor Black!" He gasped, eyes still bugging out of his head in surprise and alarm.
"Good evening, Mr. Davies." She greeted naturally, with only a hint of a smile. A million questions went through her mind – Stuart was very clearly following William, and the latter did not seem to be aware of it. Would Stuart say he was following another student? Would he attempt to incriminate others beside himself? "A bit late for a walk in the corridors, is it not?"
The boy looked terrified, and Narcissa recognized the amateurish scrambling for a lie in the whites of his eyes. No wonder he went to Gryffindor – he had impetuousness coded into his body language.
"Ah! Well, uh, I'm sorry, Professor" he squeaked. "I was just... I was just... I seem to have forgotten my, uh, my notebook in the Astronomy Tower after lessons – I just wanted to see if it was still there."
Narcissa smiled, seeking to reassure him – just enough. "Ah! Astronomy has forever been a favourite of mine... I love looking at the stars – not too surprising, considering my family. I have always been fascinated by my father's namesake constellation... Tell me, Mr. Davies, how was Cygnus tonight? Was it bright?"
Stuart visibly relaxed, entirely unaware he had fallen into a trap. He nodded vigorously. "Yes, Ma'am! Quite bright and beautiful; very easy to see!"
Narcissa's smile widened by a fraction. "It must have been bright indeed," she said, taking a few steps closer to Stuart and going for the kill, "considering Cygnus is a seasonal constellation, and will not be visible until summer. Perhaps you ought to pay a little more mind to your Astronomy studies."
The young Gryffindor's face fell; the blood rushed away from his cheeks as his features paled in fear. Narcissa kept her grin, cocking an eyebrow.
"Lying to a Professor is seldom a bright idea, Mr. Davies. But, if you are going to attempt it, at least make it good." She stopped when she was only a few paces from him, looking down at his remorseful form. "Now, can you give me any good reason for you to be out of bed after curfew?"
Stuart looked forlorn, shaking his head as his shoulders drooped in defeat. "No, Ma'am. I guess not."
Narcissa half-expected him to say something – anything – about another student being out of bed, even if just to not go down alone. When he didn't, she sensed there was something there; she just didn't know what, exactly. Her features hardened in seriousness.
"I suppose I needn't remind you of the severity of your infraction. Twenty points from Gryffindor, and you shall serve a day's detention with me, in my office, this coming Tuesday after supper. Is that clear?"
"Yes, Ma'am." He responded meekly.
"Now, go on back to your dormitory" She smiled to soften the blow. "We wouldn't want a certain caretaker catching you again tonight, would we?"
Stuart nodded, then scurried away without another word. Narcissa waited patiently for the echo of his hurried steps to fade into nothingness before going up the stairs in a quickened pace.
There was no sign of William in the winding staircase, but she hadn't expected any – given the duration of her interaction with Stuart, he had probably already made it to the Owlery. She briefly considered a Disillusionment Charm to approach more secretly, but decided against it as she got closer. William's blonde head was visible as soon as she approached the door; his small stature looked even smaller and frailer with the way he hunched over.
A few owls fluttered their wings and hooted in alarm at her approach; William turned rapidly, wand in hand, ready to face the intruder. Narcissa's wand arm went up in pure reflex, no matter that it was a child in front of her.
"Professor!" He exclaimed, lowering his wand at once. Narcissa mirrored, dismayed at her impulsive reaction. She didn't like being on edge.
"Good evening, Mr. White." She said. There was nothing in his countenance that indicated he was aware of Stuart's presence before. "I think you know it is a bit late to be out of bed."
William nodded – there was fear in his eyes, but not the kind of fear borne out of the shock of being caught – this was much deeper than that. Narcissa had seen that kind of fear a few too many times in her own son's eyes. There was also the unmistakable glimmer of guilt in his gaze, and it was only made clearer by the way his shoulders sagged upon her scrutiny.
"Is there a reason why you are up here so late?" she asked kindly.
"Yes, Professor. I wanted to send a letter." He said.
"I assumed as much – delivering the post is an owl's primary function."
That garnered a smile from the young boy. "But I fail to see why you couldn't have done it during the day. Is it an urgent matter?"
William's jaw set strongly. "No... yes... No, not really. It's..." He paused and ran a hand through his shaggy blond hair, and Narcissa could see how much he struggled to find the words. The arm that had nearly been pulled out of its socket hung by his side, his hand clutched an envelope with such force it crumpled the parchment. "It's for my Mum, professor."
Narcissa waited, and the young man seemed to understand her cue. "I don't want to send letters during the day. I don't want to deal with... with my Housemates' questions. And..." his cheeks pinked in embarrassment "I don't even really know how to send it. Or rather, how'd she get it without... without attracting attention." His eyes widened as if he had caught himself; the hand clutching the letter trembled at his side. "There are no wizards or witches in my neighbourhood."
"I suppose I can help you with that" Narcissa offered. "You may make a letter strictly to your Mother – the owl would know not to deliver it when anyone else was around." It was very clear William was fighting some inner battle – his eyes darted around the Owlery madly, and his shoulders began to shake. The condensation of his breath came in increasingly shorter, rapid bursts in the cold air of the exposed Owlery, and Narcissa could immediately see – once again reminiscing of the dark times through which Draco suffered – that he was on the verge of a panic attack of some sort.
"William..." she began in her smoothest tone, taking one cautious step to approach him - it didn't look like he had heard her.
"I just don't know what to do!" He snapped, suddenly, eyes brimming with tears. Before his Head of House could react, there was a burst of red light, and the envelope he held exploded into a million burning pieces. Hundreds of small sparks burst all around the Owlery, several of them hitting dried straw and feathers and discarded pieces of parchment, setting them alight. The birds hooted and screeched in fright, flapping their wings and flying madly around the small space.
"William!" Narcissa called as she heard his yelp of pain as he waved his smouldering sleeves. His breaths were even more ragged, and, to her shock, the flames that grew around them – sending the owls into a frightened flutter of wings – drew and recoiled in time with his breathing.
Her observation delayed her reaction for only half a second – her wand zipped through the air as she attempted to banish the flames in one swift movement. It was highly unusual for older children to exhibit such powerful accidental magic – it usually happened when they were quite young and inexperienced in dealing with their own feelings.
To her dismay, the flames didn't go out completely – cinders remained and ignited once more, stubbornly. William had removed his robe, and now looked at the fire surrounding them in frightened enthrallment, the pain in his arm completely forgotten.
"Well, that won't do" Narcissa muttered angrily. "Perimo Maximo!"
Whatever remained of the flames was extinguished at once. William turned to her sharply, eyes wide, as if his trance had been terminated by the same spell. His mouth moved, but he was unable to speak.
"Are you alright, Mr. White? How's your arm?"
He nodded before looking down at his arm. Thankfully the flames had not done much more than singe his arm-hairs; his hand, however, needed more attention. Narcissa stepped to him, unhappy with how his first instinct as she reached for his arm was to flinch away before letting her cast a healing charm on the burns.
"How does that feel?" She asked after she was satisfied.
"Better. Thank you, Professor. I... I'm sorry, I don't know what happened." He said, that shame working its way back into his features with great strength.
"Accidental magic, Mr. White. This can happen under duress" she said calmly, her tone returning to one she used fairly frequently with Draco when he was young and in need of reassurance. She eyed him carefully. "Are you under duress, Mr. White?"
He let out a little laugh. "No. I think I'm just stressed." He said, bending down to pick up his robe from the dirty floor of the Owlery. The birds were just beginning to settle down, sending some angry hoots their way for the disturbance.
"And what seems to be the source of your stress?" Narcissa asked kindly, sending a knowing look his way. "Anything from your Housemates, or other students?"
She was surprised to see him straighten up, his posture the picture of confidence, even if his face betrayed some level of uncertainty. "I can handle my classmates" he said solemnly, way too solemnly for a boy of eleven. His demeanour and resolute air surprised Narcissa, but not necessarily in a bad way – the more she interacted with the young boy, the more Slytherin she saw in him.
"Very well. What stresses you then, Mr. White, if not your classmates?"
He gave her a little rueful smile, looking more like the fearful child she and Hermione had first seen at the Great Hall.
"My f... My family isn't taking all this wizarding business too well. It'll be alright, it... I suppose it will just take some time to adjust."
Narcissa nodded, though something in her gut told her William was not being entirely truthful, though he did worlds better in concealing the truth than his classmate had done just a few minutes before. Whereas Stuart scrambled to make up a lie, William told her something that undoubtedly had some truth in it – he was just very careful not to say everything.
"I suppose having a Wizard in the family would come as quite a shock." She said in contemplation. There was a small, quiet voice in her head, one that sounded suspiciously like Bellatrix, that kept telling her to take a peek, just one little harmless peek into the boy's mind to see what he was truly hiding. One little peek and she'd get all the proof she needed, everything necessary to remove William from a potentially threatening environment.
Narcissa silenced the voice with some internal ferocity she did not know she possessed – it was a great violation of trust, a great breach of not only privacy but legality.
"I'm afraid that Professor Granger might be more helpful in dealing with that sort of thing" Narcissa said, and William chuckled sadly. "I know you do not think it wise seeing her about these things, but I believe talking to someone who has been through a similar situation will be helpful to you." She could see his hesitation so clearly in his features; oh, the Slytherin-like independence. How she wished for a little Gryffindor bravery for him. "Of course, that is merely a suggestion. Follow it, if you wish."
That earned her a smile. "I might, Professor. I'm sorry for being out past curfew I... I didn't know when else to go."
"Ah, yes, we must do something about that. I trust this won't happen again, but I am afraid I must deduct House Points. Twenty points from Slytherin, plus one night's detention this Tuesday, after supper."
William nodded; his eyes did not look terribly happy, but his smile was sincere. "That sounds fair to me. It'll be good to not be known as such a square. I've heard we can't have a full saint in Slytherin." He mumbled.
"You catch on fast, Mr. White." Narcissa said, returning the smile. "Now, go on to the Common Room, and into bed with you. I hope you find another time to send your letter – do not hesitate to come to me or Ms. Granger should you need anything."
"Thank you, Professor. I will." he replied airily, and Narcissa knew he would do no such thing. He gathered his singed, feather-covered school robe in his arms and made his way out, sparing her an apologetic glance as he neared the door.
He was about to pass the threshold when Narcissa turned back towards him.
"William?" she asked, and he practically stumbled in surprise with the way she said his name.
"Yes, Professor?"
"I feel I must ask you... Is there anything you'd like to tell me? Anything at all?"
He paused, holding onto the door jamb before looking at her intently. There was no build-up to this lie, and the posture of this boy standing before her was once again so different from the one stumbling about the Great Hall at the start of term it threw Narcissa off-balance.
"No, Professor. Nothing."
Hermione had just reached the castle courtyard after walking from Hogsmeade – the cold of her walk did wonders in restoring some of her sobriety after her rendezvous with Harry – when her wand began vibrating in her robes.
It made her freeze in a way that had nothing to do with the cold – she and Minerva had reworked some of the castle wards so that the staff would be warned when any Dark Magic was performed in its halls. Hermione had helped Minerva create the charm shortly after the war, when the threat of rogue Death Eaters had been much higher. In the end, they decided to keep it – with an unspoken agreement that it would come in handy should any students be tempted by the Dark Arts.
The charm had been activated only once, a few months after the war, when Augustus Rookwood and a few other remaining Death Eaters made a clumsy attempt to infiltrate the castle. The 'invasion' had been over before it ever truly began, and Harry and Ron got their first official arrest on file for the DMLE.
Now, the thought of someone using Dark Magic in the castle shook Hermione to her core. She began running before even becoming aware she was doing it; she only got as far as the foyer before the Great Hall before bumping into Neville.
"Hermione!" He called, panting in his night robe and slippers. "Did your...?"
"Yes" the brunette breathed out, whipping her wand and making several of the torches in the corridor light up. "Do we know where?"
Neville shook his head. "No. It was very short, a small burst maybe. We don't know where it came from."
Hermione was about to ask more, but a tabby cat came running towards them. Minerva's form materialized seamlessly. "Your wands?" The two nodded.
"The other professors are now awake, and doing a headcount." Her tone turned severe. "We cannot find Narcissa."
The name hung in the air; Neville was the first to come to the witch's defence, surprising all of them. "What! You don't think she did it?"
"I am not accusing anybody, Mr. Longbottom," Minerva said kindly "but we must understand that she has the capability."
Hermione wanted to say something, but she felt divided. In her head, through logic, she agreed with Minerva – Narcissa certainly had the ability and had dabbled in the Dark Arts, and she was the one Professor who could not be found.
Her heart, however brought to her memory images of a witch brewing Wideye Potion to escape nightmares. It brought forth pictures of Narcissa showing the changes to Black Manor, of her feeling embarrassed and guilty after the portrait incident, of her worrying about being a good grandmother. The scar on her palm pulsed softly.
"I'm sure there is an explanation." Hermione whispered. Minerva looked at her with a little surprise in her eyes, but she smiled. Neville nodded emphatically.
"Shall we look for her?" he asked, but Hermione shook her head.
"Keep the student head count. I'll find her; we'll reconvene at Minerva's office?"
The two nodded in agreement, leaving to their tasks at once. The idea of searching for someone in the immense castle should have been discouraging in the very least, but something told Hermione Narcissa wasn't hiding – she just happened to be out of her chambers for some reason. She had no reason to believe Narcissa would not come to her if called.
"Expecto Patronum"
Her little otter happily swam through the air, gliding around her and cocooning her in a blanket of warmth, welcoming the added movements of her wand. "Narcissa, come meet me by Minerva's office. Something's happened."
The otter reduced itself to one condensed ball of bright light before zooming through the corridors. Hermione had no doubt it would find the blonde, so she started to slowly make her way to the Headmistress' door.
She met Narcissa one floor before the destination – the Potions Professor was coming down the West Staircase as Hermione went up; the two met effectively in the middle. Hermione tried her hardest to ignore the little extra beats her heart seemed to produce when her eyes met Narcissa's and the blonde greeted her with a smile.
"I must say, your Patronus makes for quite an ingenious calling card." She said silkily, and Hermione just couldn't help returning the smile as they walked down the corridor to Minerva's office.
"It comes in handy," she said brightly. Then she remembered why she had called the other witch. "There was a breach of security, but we couldn't find you."
The look in Narcissa's eyes told Hermione the other witch was just as surprised as she had been.
"A breach? Of what kind?"
"A burst of unauthorized magic – we were alerted when our wands vibrated thanks to a modification of the castle wards. We must have forgotten to add yours; frankly, we haven't thought about it in years."
Narcissa stopped in her tracks. "A burst? Maybe..." She looked at Hermione solemnly. "I am just coming down from the Owlery – William White was out of bed. He produced some accidental magic which was quite strong. Would that trigger your wards?"
"What?" Hermione let out in shock. It was not unheard of for an eleven-year-old to produce accidental magic, particularly strong accidental magic. It was just exceedingly rare, and it never meant anything good. She shook it off, for the time being. "Hold on, I'll have to ask you about that later. But to answer your question, no, accidental magic wouldn't necessarily trigger the wards." She took a breath and looked at Narcissa intently. "The wards are only triggered by Dark Magic."
Hermione did not like how Narcissa's eyes widened slightly, nor how the witch's gait seemed to stutter for a moment.
"Oh, Salazar's snakes!" The blonde hissed.
Hermione felt like someone had knocked the air out of her lungs. What sort of Dark Magic had Narcissa been performing, on school grounds no less?
"It was you!" She yelped before she could stop herself. "I thought... I wanted to believe..."
Hermione's mouth was silenced by Narcissa's finger coming to rest gently upon her lips, startling her into silence. The blonde pulled away as if she had been burned, but Hermione still felt the ghosting of Narcissa's skin on her lips.
"Allow me to explain" she said, taking a deep breath. "The spell I used was a concealment jinx – I certainly didn't think of it as Dark Magic."
Hermione's brow went up in an expression of disbelief. "Why would one use the Dark Arts for concealment? Why not just cast a Disillusionment Charm?"
Narcissa's expression was pained. "It is not merely a jinx to conceal... it also allows me to move quite fast, mostly without notice." Her eyes were pleading. "I promise you, I only used it because it is unfortunately second-nature to me; it simply was the first spell I could think of to move undetected. I may not delve into the Unforgivables, necessarily, but my upbringing always involved a few Dark spells... as simple as they may be."
The brunette furrowed her brows and her lips quirked into a frown. It was getting harder and harder to reconcile the friendly Potions Professor to the woman who had grown up among so many Dark witches and wizards. Despite their delving into each other's memories, it now struck Hermione that there was preciously little she knew about Narcissa, the Ice Queen, the dark witch – how many dark spells did she know, how many had she used in her lifetime? Now, she wasn't so sure she cared to know; not if it would feel so conflicting to the Narcissa she knew now.
"Did... did this moving about stealthily and quickly have anything to do with William White's accidental magic?"
Narcissa nodded. "Lord Albert came to my chambers to tell me William was up to something. There was also a student following him – Stuart Davies, but as far as I can tell William was unaware of Stuart's presence."
"Stuart? A Gryffindor?" Hermione shook her head. "And who in Merlin's name is Lord Albert?"
"Oh, my apologies. Lord Albert Bruce Gregory is the Bloody Baron's name."
Hermione had to make a Herculean effort to not be diverted by that little bit of information. How long had she been at Hogwarts without knowing the ghost's real name? She'd have to grill Narcissa on where to find that information – it certainly wasn't mentioned anywhere in Hogwarts, a History; the Baron had been nothing but a small footnote in the tome.
"Why was Stuart following William? And why was William at the Owlery in the first place? He's never..." it occurred to the young witch right then that she had never seen William receive any post whatsoever. His parents clearly couldn't - or did not want to, but that was the alternative she chose to ignore for the time being – send him letters.
"I was unable to determine the former... as for the latter... We will have to discuss it later." Narcissa said as they reached Minerva's office gargoyle, which revealed the rotating staircase immediately upon their arrival.
"Alright" Hermione said, dissatisfied. A thread of her curiosity begged to be pulled. "Out of curiosity, what was the spell you used?"
Narcissa looked guilty.
"Nebula Nox. Death Eaters used it to turn to smoke and travel. It is Unplottable, unlike apparition."
"I see." Hermione said, unsure she saw anything at all. What she did see, however, was how Narcissa noticed her shudder as she remembered how terrifying those Death Eaters looked, materializing from dark smoke into even darker cloaked figures, in their nightmarish silver masks. One look at Narcissa, and she decided she'd rather never see her like that, if she could help it.
