Chapter 14

Hydra: Voldemort's Return

Summer 1995

On the evening of 24th June, it happened. Narcissa was alone in her parlour, finalising plans for the summer fundraiser for St Mungo's, when Lucius sprinted into the room, eyes wild.

"Narcissa!" he cried, but he didn't need to say anything else. The left sleeve of his robe was pulled up, and the Dark Mark was showing clearly - a deep, bottomless black; Lucius had been summoned by their Master. Narcissa jumped up from her seat, flinging her arms around her husband as she begged him,

"Don't go, don't go, Luc. We lost his diary - he'll kill you, he'll kill us all - Draco!" She began to sob, but Lucius struggled against her, saying in a panic-stricken voice,

"No! Narcissa, I have to go now, you know the rules, we have to disapparate immediately, I need to get my robes and mask, then I have to get beyond the house's boundary - there isn't time! Please, let go!" He tried to pull away, but Narcissa cried harder, clutching him, refusing to release him. "I'm sorry," Lucius whispered, then Narcissa heard her husband firmly say, "Imperio." It was as if someone had flipped a switch inside her. Narcissa stopped crying, as a warm contentment washed over her. She felt light and carefree, as if she was floating. Then she heard Lucius' gentle voice, caressing the inside her mind, "Let go, Narcissa". She obeyed instantly, feeling her arms fall as though in slow motion to her sides. "Go and sit on the sofa, and stay there for fifteen minutes. Everything will be fine. I love you." She was dimly aware of Lucius' lips on hers, then she turned, waking sedately to the sofa and sitting down, hands folded in her lap. She did not hear Lucius leave the room, and by the time she came to her senses, he was long gone.

The two hours which followed were torturous for Narcissa. She screamed and cried, destroyed half the furniture in the parlour, then paced the Manor blindly, back and forth, up and down the stairs. Ingle tried to calm her down, to give her a drink, but Narcissa ignored the little elf and eventually she gave up, scurrying to the parlour to fix the mess her mistress had made. Narcissa then took up a position on the window seat in the drawing room, which had a good view of the main driveway. The sky grew darker and darker, the albino peacocks glowed ghostly white in the moonlight. Each time a breath of wind ruffled the leaves on the trees, or a fox or badger scuttled across the grass, she leapt to her feet, heart pounding, then sank back down when she realised it wasn't Lucius. She shivered, despite the lingering summer's heat, her thoughts reminiscent of those caused by Dementors. I'll never see Lucius again. He's probably already dead. What if the Dark Lord has already taken Hogwarts and has killed Draco too? Then, suddenly, a large shape loomed up out of the dark. Before she knew what she was doing, Narcissa raced from the room, flung the front door wide and pelted down the driveway.

"Luc!" she screamed, as the figure came into focus. It was Severus, thinner and paler than when she had last seen him, supporting an unconscious Lucius. Severus looked up at Narcissa's shout, his black eyes wide and fathomless.

"Help me!" he growled, and Narcissa grabbed Lucius' other arm, pulling it over her shoulder. They staggered into the Manor, lowering Lucius carefully onto the elegant sofa in the drawing room. Narcissa fell to her knees beside him, adrenaline taking over as she checked her husband's vital signs. Severus stepped back, speaking rapidly, "I have to go - he only let me go to bring Lucius back. He's furious, Narcissa. He was torturing Lucius when I arrived - he was already unconscious. I don't know how long - when it started -" He stopped speaking, and Narcissa glanced up to see Severus pushing his shoulder-length black hair out of his face with a shaking hand.

Narcissa stood up quickly, feeling oddly calm. "He'll be ok, Severus. Thank you for bringing him home. Is Dark Lord really back?"

"I have seen him, Narcissa. He is back." The horror in Severus' eyes was beyond anything she had seen there before. "I have to go."

"Severus -" Narcissa put a hand on his arm, looking into his face, feeling torn. Should I ask him not to go? Offer to go with him?

He seemed to understand her inner turmoil and gently removed her hand, saying, "It'll be ok."

"Promise me you'll send me word, once you're safe," she whispered, still looking into his dark eyes.

He looked back, an odd expression on his face, as if he was trying to work her out. "You really care about me, don't you?"

Narcissa replied without thinking, "You know I love you, Severus."

'Love.' It was a word spoken often in the Malfoys' home; their guests loved the food, loved the wine, and loved the decor. Draco loved Quidditch, loved his treat boxes and loved his parents. Lucius told his wife several times each day how much he loved her, and, despite his strict attitude, she knew he loved Draco. Narcissa loved her husband and son more than she could describe. She had loved Andromeda, and still loved Bellatrix. And she did love Severus, he was her dearest friend and like a brother to her - but what or who did Severus love? Have I ever heard him say that word? And when was the last time someone told him they loved him? An awkward silence fell between them, and Narcissa broke eye contact first. She turned back to Lucius, placing a hand on his chest as she said, "We both care about you, Severus. You're the only true friend we have. Now promise me."

She did not look back at him, even when he said softly, "I promise." She felt a hand briefly touch her shoulder, then heard retreating footsteps and the sound of the front door opening and closing.

"Ingle!" Narcissa called, and the elf appeared promptly at her elbow. Narcissa took a deep breath and began to give instructions for Lucius' treatment.

It was the middle of the night, and Lucius was asleep in their bed. He had regained consciousness briefly, but was still vulnerable, weak and exhausted. It would take several days for him to get his strength back. Narcissa stood next to the bed, hair loose around her shoulders, wrapped in a light silk dressing gown. She reached out, gently stroking her husband's white-blond hair. She smiled at his sleeping face, then returned to the window seat. She sat down, turning and bringing her feet up onto the cushioned seat, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Their rooms overlooked the driveway, and Narcissa gazed out into the moonlit night, searching for her friend. Where are you, Severus? Then she saw a light, the light cast by a lit wand. She took up her wand from her bedside table and crept from her room, careful not to wake Lucius, then ran lightly down the corridor and descended the stairs. She opened the front door and Severus was on the step. He looked awful, he was covered in a cold sweat, his eyes huge and blank in his thin, white face.

"So, I survived," he said, swaying slightly where he stood.

"Severus!" she cried, taking in his haggard appearance. "What did he do to you?"

"I do not wish to describe it," Severus replied.

"Come in," she said, opening the door wide. "I'll get Ingle to get you a drink, and you can sleep here -"

"No. The Headmaster is expecting me back." He spoke slowly, as if each word was difficult to form.

"Dumbledore? But, the Dark Lord is back! Surely you can leave the school now?"

"I am still to be a spy, Narcissa. The Dark Lord wants me back at Hogwarts. So I must go." He turned, but stumbled, and Narcissa caught his arm.

"You can't apparate in your condition. I'll take you." And before he could argue, Narcissa had summoned a thin coat from her dressing room. It zoomed down the stairs, and she caught it, slipping her arms inside it, ignoring Severus' slightly slurred protests. She stepped out onto the front step, taking Severus' arm and pulling it over her shoulders, as she had with Lucius earlier in the evening. Severus grumbled, but leant into her, showing he was feeling worse than he had let on. They then slowly crossed the grounds, and walked through the gates, which turned to smoke to allow them to pass as Narcissa raised her wand. She apparated with Severus as close to the castle boundary as she could, then pulled him towards the iron gates. "Open them, Severus," she commanded, and he obeyed, drawing his wand and waving it. The gates slowly opened, and Narcissa walked him through. She was tired, but kept going, seeing the huge castle looming up out of the dark.

"You cannot be seen," Severus muttered. "Potter saw Lucius... the graveyard... it was our Barty... escaped Azkaban... Moody...if you're seen here... you know... the Dark Lord..." Severus sounded confused, and Narcissa interrupted him,

"What graveyard? And what have Barty, Moody and Potter got to do with it? Barty's dead! Severus what are you talking about?" She turned her head to look at him, but he shook his head, mumbling,

"No time... not now."

Curiously flooded her brain, but Narcissa pushed it aside. It's not important now, I have to get Severus back then get home to Lucius. Narcissa heaved Severus up the stone steps to the castle doors, then ducked out from under his arm, breathing heavily. "Will you be ok to get back to the dungeons? Because I could -" But the air was knocked out of her as Severus lunged, shoving her roughly to one side, flicking his wand at the same time. Narcissa tried to cry out, but her voice was gone, and she fell off the side of the stone steps and hit the dry grass hard. She lay there, feeling stunned, as she heard voices from the top of the steps.

"Severus. Are you alright?" Dumbledore, Narcissa realised.

"I have been better, Headmaster," Severus' voice replied.

Then she heard the heavy wooden doors close, and her voice was released from its magical bind. She rose to her feet, brushing dried earth from her coat, and walked back to the iron gates. Harry Potter, Alastor Moody, Barty Crouch Jr, the Dark Lord, someone who escaped from Azkaban and a graveyard... what in Merlin's name happened this evening? She put out a hand and pushed at the school gates, but they did not budge. Please, no. She tried again, then drew her wand and tried to unlock them magically. Nothing happened. She tried to blast the gates open, but they stayed resolutely closed, and did not so much as dent when her spell crashed into them. She let out a howl of frustration. I didn't tell Ingle where I was going, didn't leave Luc a note! Now I'm stuck here! She was just forming a plan to break into Hagrid's hut and using the Imperius curse on him to make him open the gates for her, when she heard a sound, and spun on the spot. Severus was standing behind her, looking slightly more lucid, a glass bottle in his hand.

"Here," he said, thrusting the potion into her hands before pointing his wand at the gates which swung open for her. "Give this to Lucius. It will help - I have just taken some, so you can see it works quickly." He gave her a weak smile. "Thank you for helping me, Narcissa. I will come and see you as soon as I can." Before he could resist, she had thrown her arms around him, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Stay safe," she whispered, and for a brief moment, she felt him hug her back. She turned and walked quickly through the iron gates, and disapparated as soon as she could without looking back again.

She spent the next morning sitting at Lucius' bedside. He was still sleeping, but fitfully. She wiped his brow, stoked his hair, held his hand and tried to soothe him. Ingle brought her food, but she felt too anxious to eat, and the elf silently cleared it away a few hours later. In the afternoon, Lucius awoke. He was weak, but able to eat some soup and when he kept it down, Narcissa gave him the potion from Severus. It seemed to help, and by the late afternoon, Lucius was able to get out of bed. He slowly put his legs on the floor, and clutched at one of the posts of the bed, using it to haul himself to his feet. His legs shook and he only got as far as the armchair before he had to sit down again, breathing heavily. He smiled wryly at his wife.

"I'd forgotten how terrible the Cruciatus curse is."

Narcissa fought to keep the plights of Frank and Alice Longbottom out of her head as she knelt in front of the chair. She took Lucius' hand and pressed it to her lips, murmuring, "Luc, what happened?"

Lucius' eyes were unfocused, and his hand shook as he brought it back into his lap. "It was... awful..." he whispered. Then he took a deep breath, and continued speaking. His voice sounded odd, as if his throat is hoarse... from screaming as he was tortured, Narcissa realised. He screamed and screamed until his throat was raw... She shook her head, trying to dispel these distressing thoughts and focus on what her husband was saying: "I was among the first to arrive. I apparated to a churchyard, and the Dark Lord was there, but he looked different... not human. His face -" Lucius broke off and coughed into his hand. "Can I have some water?" he croaked. Narcissa conjured a glass from thin air, catching it and filling it with water from her wand. She pushed it into Lucius' hand, and he sipped it slowly before continuing: "His face was stark white, like a mask, with red eyes and no real nose. It was horrific. Then I saw a boy on the ground. He was dead, and nearby was a man. He was crying, bleeding and missing a hand." Lucius looked sickened as he recalled the image, and said, "Narcissa, it was Pettigrew - he's not dead. It was he, not Black, who gave the Potters over to the Dark Lord. He said - the Dark Lord, I mean - that Pettigrew had found him and revived him using a snake. The Dark Lord was furious. He tortured Avery immediately, then he gave Pettigrew a new hand, but he didn't call him by his name, he kept calling him 'Wormtail'." Narcissa felt as if her head was spinning. What? Pettigrew, alive? But how? And who was the dead boy? Lucius was still talking, "Then he spoke to me, about what we did at the World Cup. He wasn't pleased, but he moved on. He said he was going to break open Azkaban and free your sister and the Lestrange brothers, and then we'd summon the giants and Dementors. Then I saw someone else - Narcissa, he had Harry Potter, tied to a headstone."

Narcissa started, her heart thumping hard. "Potter? But he's at Hogwarts! How did the Dark Lord get him out from under Dumbledore's protection?"

Lucius took another sip of water, then stretched out a trembling hand, setting the glass down on a side table. Then he placed his hand on Narcissa's head, he began to stroke her hair shakily. "That's what I asked. He told us..." Lucius voice sounded oddly distant. "...when Potter was a baby, his mother cast a lasting protection over him, which made the Dark Lord's curse rebound back on him, but he didn't die - he said he'd experimented with immortality, and that it had worked. He fled as a spirit to a forest in Albania."

Narcissa felt questions burning inside her. What protection? What experiments? But she did not want to interrupt her husband, so kept listening: "Then, Quirrell stumbled across his path, and took him back to the UK. He let the Dark Lord possess him, and they tried and failed to steal the Philosopher's Stone. When Quirrell died, he fled again as a spirit, and last year, Pettigrew found him, and somehow brought him Bertha Jorkins - that Ministry witch who's been reported missing. He questioned her and killed her."

Lucius removed his hand from Narcissa's hair, and she looked up. He had bent his head, resting his elbows on his knees, his face buried in his hands. "Luc?" Narcissa asked, putting a hand on his leg. "Are you ok?"

"He described the ritual he did to get his body back, it's old, Dark magic," Lucius went on, as if he hadn't heard her, his voice muffled. "Pettigrew sacrificed his hand, and it involved a snake, he had it with him, he adopted it, and he mentioned his father, that's why we were at the churchyard, he said he needed his bones. And then, he said he'd taken Potter's blood, to counter the protection his mother had given him. Then, he said he had a servant at Hogwarts, who put Potter's name into the Goblet of Fire, made sure Potter won, and turned the Tri-Wizard Cup into a Portkey..."

Narcissa was worried, Lucius' tale sounded convoluted, disturbing and impossible. "Luc," she said gently. "You're not making much sense. I think you need to go back to bed..."

"No!" Lucius lifted his face from his hands, sweat standing out on his forehead. "I need to tell you! This is exactly what happened!" He looked pleadingly at his wife, and she lifted her hands in surrender, saying soothingly,

"Ok, ok, Luc, go on. Try not to get worked up."

Lucius looked feverish and a thin trickle of spit ran down the side of his mouth as he spoke, "He gave Potter his wand back, made Pettigrew untie him, and challenged him to a duel. At first, it looked like the Dark Lord would kill him, but then... I don't know how to describe it... their wands connected with this beam of golden light, and they flew away from us, and a golden cage formed all around them and there was music everywhere -" Ok, he's been hallucinating, Narcissa thought, getting to her feet. She pulled Lucius from the armchair, guiding him back to bed. He didn't seem to notice and kept talking, sounding delirious, "These ghosts, no, they weren't ghosts, but like smoke figures, came out of the Dark Lord's wand... the dead boy, and a man, and Bertha Jorkins, and the Potters, both of them. They walked around, then surrounded the Dark Lord. Then Potter ran, and the light and song stopped, and he got away, with the body of the boy. Then -" Narcissa pushed Lucius down onto the pillows, pulling a sheet up over him,

"Shh... go to sleep, Luc."

But his body was shaking and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he sobbed, "He tortured us, he wouldn't stop, he wouldn't stop. Then, he used Legilimency, I couldn't block him out, I tried, but he saw what happened to the diary, I'm sorry. He was manic, he forgot about the others, and went for me again and again and again and I blacked out."

Narcissa felt nausea rising in her throat, but forced it down, trying to keep her face calm and her voice level and soothing, "It's ok, Luc..." She stroked his hair gently, but he struggled, trying to sit upright as he cried,

"Severus! He didn't come, he didn't come back, the Dark Lord said he would pay, we have to warn him -"

Narcissa caught Lucius by the shoulders, and pushed him back down, saying, "It's ok, Luc. Severus is fine, he did go, but later. He brought you home to me. The Dark Lord tortured him too, but he's ok now." But Lucius didn't seem to hear, and began to shout incoherently, struggling against her, trying to get back up again. "Ingle!" Narcissa called, as she wrestled with her husband. The elf appeared by her side. "I need a Dreamless Sleep Potion, I have one in the bathroom. Go now!" she gasped. Ingle vanished, appearing with the bottle a few seconds later. Narcissa tried to force the potion into Lucius' hand. "Drink this, Luc," she urged, but he knocked the bottle away, almost spilling it. Narcissa closed her eyes and pointed her wand at her husband. "Imperio," she whispered. A strange feeling took over her, her arm felt as though it was recovering from pins-and-needles. It was unpleasant and warm. As quickly as she could, she commanded Lucius to drink the potion then lie down. Lucius did as he was bid, and Narcissa ended the curse. She felt oddly soiled, as if she had betrayed her husband by robbing him of his free will. It was for his own good, and he did it to me, she tried to reason with herself, but still felt horribly guilty. She looked down at her husband, who was now sleeping peacefully. She sat down on the edge of his bed, holding his hand, stroking it slowly, allowing all he had told her to sink in.

The Dark Lord is back, Harry Potter escaped... if he got back to Hogwarts, that means Dumbledore knows... She felt fear grip her, then felt angry with herself. He's just a silly old man, I won't be afraid of him. But she knew this pep talk was useless. Albus Dumbledore was not a 'silly old man', he was a very powerful wizard, almost equal to the Dark Lord himself. Narcissa continued to think through Lucius' story: Peter Pettigrew was still on our side, he must have killed those Muggles, not Sirius Black. He betrayed the Potters, framed Black for his crimes, hid for thirteen years and found and resurrected the Dark Lord. An image of Pettigrew as a chubby, cowardly little school-boy, acting as look-out for his friends while they picked on Severus, came to her mind's eye. I underestimated him. We all did. Then a vivid picture of Lily Potter came to mind. And I underestimated her. She managed to save her baby from the Dark Lord. Whatever she did clearly worked... Harry has escaped him three times so far... But what did the Dark Lord do to survive. 'Experiments' Lucius said... Dark magic? But what sort of Dark magic creates and prolongs life? Dark magic usually shortens life, curses life... And who was the servant at Hogwarts? The one who put Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire? Bagman? Crouch? Wait... Crouch... Slowly, the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place. Severus said someone escaped from Azkaban and mentioned 'our' Barty... what if he didn't die in Azkaban? Sirius Black escaped, why not Barty? She frowned, thinking furiously. Arthur Weasley was called to Alastor Moody's house for exploding dustbins last summer... that was odd... Moody was paranoid, but not the kind of wizard to cause a public disturbance... And certainly not the kind of man to transfigure and attack a child! What if he was attacked? Severus said someone at Hogwarts was brewing Polyjuice Potion... what if the Moody at Hogwarts wasn't Moody? Barty was a powerful enough wizard to charm an ancient magical artefact... and Barty Crouch Snr, the man who sent his own son to Azkaban has disappeared. It was fantastic, impossible, but it made sense. "Barty Crouch Junior," Narcissa whispered. "He's been impersonating Alastor Moody all year..." Then she felt as if the bottom had dropped out of her stomach. Severus said Potter saw Lucius! What if he tells Dumbledore? Narcissa ran to the cellar, running through all the protective enchantments, adding to and strengthening them. When she was satisfied, she began to plan their alibi. Dragonpox, I'll say Lucius was showing symptoms and self-isolating... no-one can argue with that...

But to her amazement, no-one from the Ministry came. Narcissa read the Prophet from cover to cover, but saw nothing to cause her alarm. There was a short piece on 25th June, simply saying that Harry Potter of Hogwarts School had won the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but that was it. A note from Draco arrived the same day telling his parents that Cedric Diggory, the Hogwarts Champion had died. Narcissa remembered Lucius telling her he had seen a boy's body at the graveyard - it made sense. But oddly, Diggory's demise and the Dark Lord were not mentioned in the papers at all. Fudge is either running a secret campaign against the Dark Lord behind the scenes - unlikely - or he's refusing to believe the Dark Lord's back and is burying his head in the sand... that wouldn't surprise me in the least. He's weak and indecisive. A perfect fool - but useful. The Dark Lord always liked to operate from the shadows... She kept reading the Prophet daily, but still nothing was reported about the events in the graveyard. Lucius improved slowly over the next few days, and was able to tell Narcissa in more detail what had happened on the night the Dark Lord returned. Narcissa shared her theory about Barty Crouch Jr with him, and he was sceptical at first, but slowly came round to her way of thinking. Narcissa decided to cancel the summer fundraiser at the Manor, telling the Committee Lucius had possibly contracted Dragonpox. This disease was highly infectious, and so no-one argued. The Committee hired a hall at the Ministry instead, and Narcissa allowed her deputy to take the lead, staying at home with her husband.

Lucius had not yet been summoned to his Master again, and he and Narcissa lived in fear of their next meeting. Has he forgiven us? Narcissa fretted, Or will he torture Luc again? When the end of the school term arrived, Lucius was not yet well enough to travel, so Narcissa went alone to Platform 9¾ to meet their son. She stood with Zillah and Sephy on the platform, waiting for their boys to disembark from the train. Students flooded the platform, calling goodbyes and rushing to their parents. Narcissa looked for her son's white-blond hair in the mass of brunette, black, blonde and mouse, but she couldn't see him anywhere. The crowd began to thin, and Narcissa felt worried. Where is Draco? Then she saw three boys descend from the train; Harry Potter and the Weasley twins. They all walked past her, Harry and one twin ignoring her completely, but the other twin smirked at her as he passed by. Narcissa caught the boy's eye, and saw a vivid picture of Draco being hexed from behind. Narcissa started forward, leaping onto the carriage the boys had just vacated and hurrying down the train. She didn't have to look very far; Draco, Vincent and Gregory were lying unconscious on the carriage floor. They were a mess, and looked as if they had been hit by at least two jinxes each. Vincent had tiny tentacles all over his face. Probably a mix of Jelly-Legs and Furnunculus, Narcissa thought furiously. Crabbe seemed to have been hit with the Sea-urchin jinx, and had tiny spikes all over his face and hands. His skin also looked raw, and Narcissa recognised the signs of the Stinging hex she herself had used frequently on Dobby. Draco - my baby - had been hit with the Leg-locker and Jelly-fingers curses. Trying not to cry, Narcissa pulled out her wand and began to mutter counter-spells. She heard a sound behind her, and glanced over her shoulder. Zillah had followed her and without speaking, drew her own wand and helped revive the three boys. It did not take long, and they helped them all off the train. Vincent mumbled his thanks, looking slightly cross-eyed, and hobbled over to his mother. Narcissa did not stop to say goodbye, and took Draco home immediately. He was shaking, cold, stiff, bruised, hungry and dehydrated from several hours lying on the train floor. Narcissa put her arm around him as they walked, speaking gently to him, coaxing him along. She fought with herself to keep her mounting fury at Harry Potter and the Weasleys at bay, as her son nestled into her embrace.

"I'm sorry, Mum," he croaked. Mum! He called me Mum! Narcissa felt her heart swell as she kissed the top of Draco's head.

"Shh, baby. It's ok. Everything's changed now, Draco. Harry Potter and the blood traitors will pay for what they've done, you'll see."

Over the next few days, Lucius got better and better. He was able to take his meals with his wife and son, and was soon able to walk downstairs unaided. Lucius insisted on telling Draco the full story of what had happened in the graveyard. "He needs to know, Narcissa. Besides, it seems Dumbledore has already told the whole school that the Dark Lord is back. Draco's fifteen years old! He can handle it." And so Draco was summoned to his father's study, and Lucius spoke to him sternly. It was different to the emotional, confused tale Narcissa had heard, but Lucius did not attempt to cover up or brush over the torture he had suffered at the Dark Lord's hands. "He is our Master, Draco," Lucius finished. "He stands for blood purity and the infinite superiority of magic over Muggles. He can be a harsh Master, but it is a small price to pay for the rise and prominence of our family. We will continue to serve him faithfully. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father," Draco said firmly, his eyes shining with ambition.

The night, Narcissa was lying on her side in bed, Lucius' arms around her. Thoughts were rushing around her head, and she didn't feel that she would ever get to sleep. This all started in 1970, twenty-five years ago! How many people have died for this cause - a cause we still haven't achieved? Regulus... We joined thinking it would be over within a few years... He tortured Luc, what if he kills him too? Lucius' breathing was slow and rhythmic, and she knew he was almost asleep, but the words tumbled out of her before she should stop them, "Do you think this will ever be over Luc? That we will ever win?" He didn't need to ask what she meant. Silence greeted her words, but his breathing was light and rapid; he was awake.

"We are Malfoys," he murmured, pressing his lips to the back of her head, kissing it gently. "Purity will always conquer."