Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything associated with it, other than the plotline for this piece of fanfiction that I do not gain anything from writing other than the opportunity to further my writing ability and earn written praise.
Years Ago From Now: Chapter 22
December 23, 1980
Hermione finished tying the satin gold sash around her waist. It fell dramatically to the floor, matching a folded over golden neckline and complimenting the rest of the emerald green dress. Draco was standing on the floor next to the bed. He was trying to get the courage to let go and walk on his own, but he hadn't quite gotten there yet. Still, for just over six months old, he was quite determined to walk soon.
The sound of his diapered bottom thumping on the floor had Hermione look over at him with a small grin. He was looking at her, waiting for a reaction. Upon seeing her attention was on him, he started to cry. Her smile turned into a smirk as she walked from her mirror to her son, scooping him up off the floor.
"Already so dramatic, Draco. You are okay," she said, kissing his whimpering lips.
Lucius walked in, "He cries, and you immediately pick him up. If he grows up to have a flair for the dramatic, it will be your fault," he chided, opening his armoire with both arms thrown wide to pull out his dress robes.
Hermione rolled her eyes at her husband, "As if you don't do the same thing. I am happy to inform you that when he speaks of his parents it will usually be to threaten people that 'my father will hear about this!' Note, he doesn't talk about running to his mummy. It's daddy he will come to with his woes."
Lucius ignored her teasing, pulling out his robes and tossing them onto the bed as he started to unbutton his work suit. He took a good look at his wife and smiled. "You look beautiful. Ready to leave?"
Hermione sighed, "A Christmas Ball with the Dark Lord and all his minions. I've been looking forward to it all day."
Mink had insisted on returning to work less than a week after giving birth to Dobby. She also insisted that it wasn't acceptable for Dobby and Draco to be playmates, though she seemed to be touched by Hermione's genuine offer.
Instead, Colby was taking care of their baby while Mink had returned to full nanny status whenever she was needed. Hermione felt a bit sick to her stomach at the thought of Dobby constantly being left by Mink so that she could serve them, but Mink told her that it was normal for house elves and was visibly insulted when Hermione suggest she get another elf to tend to Draco so that she could be with her baby.
Because of that, as soon as Lucius finished changing, Mink appeared in the room and started to play with Draco on the floor so that Hermione and Lucius would be free to leave. Hermione sighed as she leaned down, kissing her baby while Lucius reached a hand down to run through his blonde hair.
"We will see you in the morning, Draco," Hermione whispered against his cheek. And then she took her husband's arm, and they left their child in much safer surroundings than where they were going.
The party was already in full swing when they arrived. It was to be expected though as they were arriving a very fashionable 45 minutes late. Lucius insisted it was the very last moment before it could be considered rude that they had not yet arrived.
Virtually every Death Eater Hermione had known to serve the Dark Lord was in attendance (with the noticeable exceptions of the younger Barty Crouch, Peter Pettigrew, and the ones that had been similar to her original age). Hermione even saw Igor Karkaroff talking to Snape in a corner. Snape looked like he had not been Igor's fan at any point and seemed desperate for the chance to get away.
Knowing that a good relationship with Severus would be incredibly valuable to them in time, Hermione subtly nodded in their direction to her husband, and Lucius led the way to the two men.
"Surely, Severus, you would not propose that dried bicorn horn would be better than fresh? My supplier says I could not get better!" Igor was arguing in a thick, though disturbingly high pitched Bulgarian accent.
Severus rolled his eyes. "I simply state fact, Igor. Bicorn horn, when used fresh, is a very powerful ingredient, and it sounds like you got a good price. However, the amount he conned you into buying is laughable. Fresh just is not used at a rate to keep on hand, and drying it is not as simple as setting it in the sun and leaving it be! If it dries unevenly or with the aid of magic, it becomes completely useless. He ripped you off. You'd be better to pay more money to Smythe's.
Now that Igor noticed that the Malfoys had joined them, he drew himself up. "You are not the only person here with a potions mastery, Severus…. I have been a member of the guild for 3 years longer!"
Severus drew his own shoulders back and looked down his nose at Karkaroff. "Yes. Unfortunately, that only proves that what one could consider a Master might be seen by his actual peers as barely more than a novice. Take my advice or leave it, but don't come whining to me to help you dry your hundreds of pounds of bicorn horn. I have better things to do with my time than pull you from the pile of shite you have buried yourself in."
Karkaroff glared at Severus before turning his attention to Lucius and Narcissa. He merely nodded at them both before walking off.
Severus let go a long suffering sigh before speaking to them. "I suppose thanks is in order for rescuing me from that idiot. You are lucky that you don't know him, honestly. Why anyone would consider him worthy of anything more than crushing tea leaves is beyond me."
Hermione put a hand on is arm, "Yes, well, you aren't the only one that sees it apparently. Three years a master, and the Dark Lord still felt the need to seek you out, even if he already had Karkaroff."
Severus looked pleased with her assessment of his skill. "Thank you. How is Draco?"
Lucius smirked at his friend. "He is doing very well. And look at you! Embracing your godfather duties by inquiring after him."
Severus seemed to glare a bit before looking at Narcissa. "And you. I assume there has been no change?" His voice had dropped to a whisper.
Hermione inclined her head. "No change. I am settling in without issue, though. Lucius and Draco are wonderful. The Healers expect that there won't be a… recovery."
Lucius wrapped an arm around her waist and kissed her temple. "Nonsense. I think Severus would agree that any recovery would be a travesty." Severus nodded slightly in response.
"And how is Hogwarts treating you? Is it strange to be there as a professor and not a student? Especially since you haven't been graduated but a few years…"
Severus rolled his eyes, "The students are idiots. I am shocked each week that there haven't been any deaths. The other professors are…. Cumbersome." He stopped and turned his attention to Lucius. "I was actually told that when you arrived the Dark Lord would like to speak to us. Does now suit you? I would prefer to leave as soon as possible."
Lucius looked at Hermione who smiled and nodded. "Of course. I will go get some wine. Find me when you are done. If I don't see you, Severus; Merry Christmas to you."
"The same to you, Narcissa."
Hermione had barely escaped what seemed to be a very boring conversation with Genevieve Parkinson about her daughter, Pansy. Obviously, Pansy had not been the only one with designs on Draco. Genevieve had kept throwing in gems like "the perfect pureblood wife" and "a sizeably dowry" while referring to her ten month old daughter. Hermione was quite sure that the real Narcissa would also have been looking down her nose at the obviously oblivious woman in front of her. As if she would encourage her son to marry that… That pig of a girl. After she had yelled that they should offer up Harry on a silver platter? No, no... that would never happen.
She had found refuge on the grounds of Lestrange Manor. The property was rather opulent, she supposed, in a very monochromatic way. The Lestranges seemed to abhor too much color, to the extent that even their gardens seemed to have few things that would produce anything that wasn't green or white.
She wondered how long until Lucius would be done speaking with the Dark Lord so that they could go home. Being in the past was quickly becoming… boring. It was strange. She was living a life in another person's body, in a time certainly not her own, and she was bored.
It would have been easier to play along if she thought her choices could ultimately do anything. Unfortunately, time travel seemed to be much less glamourous than the "kill Hitler" idea. She was biding her time, watching as events that were destined to unfold unfolded.
She didn't know personally what would happen each day, but she knew that she couldn't mess anything up too badly for now. The Dark Lord would temporarily fall in ten months. Draco would age. The big events were known. It was a decided step away from the terrifying excitement of not knowing if you would survive the day like when she had been holed up in the Forest of Dean with the boys.
She sat down on a stone bench facing away from the large glass doors that led into the ballroom.
Tuning out the sounds of the party behind her, she focused instead on the dark clouds lit up only by a full moon. Somewhere out there, a Remus Lupin that was still alive and didn't know her was dealing with his transformation. She hoped one of his friends was with him.
"It is cold out here," a smooth voice called from behind her.
She turned with a frown which grew upon seeing that it was Rabastan that had joined her. He was unclasping his cloak with the intent to let her use it.
"I feel quite comfortable. It was a good thought of Rodolphus to put a charm on this area of the gardens." It was rather cold, but it was much colder outside the perimeter where the charm had been set up.
"That was actually my idea," Rabastan said, walking around and sitting next to her on the bench without invitation.
"Well, then," Hermione said, allowing her voice to trail off. Holding her tone in public as perpetually snobby and aristocratic was starting to seem natural to her, she only hoped that it was as convincing to those that had known her well. And, as far as she knew, Rabastan had known her very well.
"Did your husband truly leave you alone out here?" he said, judgingly.
She raised an eyebrow as she turned her face to look at him. "He needed to speak with the Dark Lord. He will come find me when he is done." She turned her face forward again, though she could sense he was still looking at her.
They sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. "How much longer?"
Hermione felt herself tense at the slight desperation in his voice. "Until?" she asked, knowing exactly what he meant.
"Until you stop playing this… whatever it is. Game? Joke? How much longer until you return to me and let Lucius be his unremarkable self?"
Hermione felt herself bristle at the slight against her husband and turned to face him once more. "Even when I was foolish enough to think Lucius was not a good match for me, even when I thought him cowardly, I don't believe I ever thought him to be unremarkable."
"You are going to continue this charade here? In private? With me?!" he asked, his voice collecting a bit of bite to it.
Hermione stood up and looked down at him. "Rabastan. I believe I was clear. What is happening now is what I want. I am happy. My husband and child make me happy. I will not jeopardize it just to reenact whatever it was we used to have."
He stood up suddenly, coming to stand almost nose to nose in front of her. "We had love! You loved me! Then, practically overnight…. Damnit, Narcissa! What the fuck happened?!"
She sighed. Even though she didn't like Rabastan Lestrange by any stretch of the imagination, a part of her felt bad for him. He had to feel so confused and rejected. She knew he would never marry, either. There would be no other big loves of his life. "Rabastan-"
His lips cut her off as he seized her in a vicious kiss, wrapping his arms around her. She pushed at him. Then, even harder as he bit her lip hard enough to draw blood. He was much stronger, though. She fished her wand out from the hidden pocket in her dress and pressed it firmly between them into his stomach. "Depulso!" She said when he pulled back in surprise. Rabastan flew away from her, hitting the bench they had sat on and tumbling over it to the ground on the other side.
She stormed toward where he lay on the ground, even as he came up on his elbows to look at her. She planted a heel against his chest and pushed him back to lying down before aiming her wand between his eyes. She took only a moment to pull the curse from her memory before allowing the vivid green light to hit him in the head. He gasped as it shot at him, apparently expecting death.
A moment later, he blinked, looking at her but not in any pain and certainly not dead. "What was that?" he said with a hint of amusement.
"That was a curse, Rabastan," she said. "The next time you consciously touch me. The next time you so much as try to shake my hand, you will be cursed. Whatever you touch me with will, quite literally, fall off."
He rolled his eyes. "I've never heard of that one."
She smirked. "Before I was a Malfoy, you imbicile, I was a Black. Do you truly think that I wouldn't find ways to protect myself in our very extensive library? Ask Bellatrix. I am sure she can corroborate my words. You should take them seriously. You should also take this seriously. I owe you nothing. Lucius might be concerned about keeping himself out of the dirty stuff, but his loyalty to the cause is faultless. Self preservation is a natural Slytherin trait that you are obviously lacking. You also are severely lacking when it comes to intelligence, loyalty, cunning, skill, and sexual ability. Why would I possibly give you the time of day once figuring that out? If in some petty act of revenge, you attempt to fuck with my family… I will personally end you. Just because Malfoys choose not to get our hands dirty, doesn't mean that we won't."
She looked up as she heard a slow clap begin nearer to the house. Lucius, Severus, and the Dark Lord were standing at the entrance. Lucius had his wand out, going between looking at Rodolphus with fury and her with lust. The Dark Lord was looking at Lucius with interest. Severus was smirking, standing slightly closer than Lucius, as if he had prevented Lucius from getting involved. He finished applauding before gesturing inside.
"Seen enough of the gardens, Narcissa?"
She glared down at Rodolphus once more. "Yes. I am done with everything out here," she said. She walked to Lucius and pressed her lips delicately to his before putting a shield around her anger and looping her hand in his. Meeting Lord Voldemort's eyes, she quickly looked down before dropping into a curtsy. "My Lord," she said, calmly. He nodded in response.
In a polished tone of voice, she looked back indoors. "I suppose we must… mingle?" she said with distaste.
Severus responded with a snort of amusement while Lucius silently nodded, turning her around and walking with his wife, friend, and master inside.
On New Year's Eve, Hermione and Lucius were settling in for a quiet evening at home in the library when Boden appeared to let them know that the Dark Lord was waiting in the drawing room for them. Looking at each other with no small amount of trepidation, they put markers in their books and headed downstairs, thankful that Draco had long since been put to sleep. Lord Voldemort was not the sort to be kept waiting.
They walked into the room to see the tall man facing them with his back to the fire and his hands folded in front of him. Wordlessly, he opened his arms and gestured them to the couch. Silently, they bowed and curtsied before walking further into the room and taking a seat on the couch, watching as their guest took up a large throne like chair for himself across from them.
"Lucius, Narcissa. How are you both?" he asked politely, crossing one leg over the other and smiling.
Hermione looked at Lucius to respond, and he didn't disappoint. "We are doing very well. We are honored to have you visit us. And on your birthday, no less. Happy birthday, my Lord."
With profound thanks for servants that were very capable of anticipating needs, the three watched as Mink appeared in the room with not only tea, but also a small cake. Lord Voldemort smirked in amusement.
"I appreciate the sentiment and your attention to detail, but I am not much one for sweets. I will have tea, though."
While Hermione took to pouring the tea, the men watched as the singular birthday candle melted onto the cake, the red wax pooling like blood on top of the white frosting. After handing out the tea, she blew out the candle and leaned back.
"How may we serve you?" Hermione asked, trying to put a bit of awe into her voice.
The Dark Lord's smile widened. "I do not know if I have appropriately acknowledged how impressed I am with you both. Lucius has become absolutely essential to our cause, and I foresee great positions for him in the future. He does much to make his house proud. And you, Narcissa…. You are responsible for bringing him to this point. I have heard it said that a man is the head of a family but that the woman is the neck. The head will turn as the neck directs it. You have done a good job to gently leading your husband into becoming the man we both need him to be. All while juggling new motherhood and while maintaining your composure and beauty. You are a lucky man, Lucius."
Lucius reached out a hand to take hers. "I am. Thank you, my Lord. We are thrilled to be of service."
The Dark Lord nodded. "I have a… special task for you, Lucius. It might not seem like much, but it is possibly the most important task I will ever give you."
Voldemort reached a hand into his outer robes and pulled out a small, black journal. Hermione struggled not to let her eyes widen but to look passively at it.
"A book, my Lord?" Lucius questioned.
Voldemort nodded once more. "I have several belongings that are very important to me. This is one of them. I have enchanted it with magic to strengthen our cause. To keep us on track, so to speak. Look."
He held the book out, and Lucius took it in his hands. With false reverence, he opened it, fanning through the pages to see it blank inside. He frowned. "It is empty, my Lord."
Voldemort smirked. "It is very much not empty. Narcissa?"
Hermione took the journal from her husband and gasped. It was so much more subtle than the locket, cup, or diadem. It had been his first, though. Perhaps that was why. Still, she could feel the magic within. Her hands shook slightly as she closed it. Lucius was looking at her strangely, and the Dark Lord was looking at her with approval.
"Your sister had a similar response. She is the caretaker of a similar possession. Yours, though, has a very specific purpose for the future, though. This book is how we will eventually take back Hogwarts. Placed within suggestible hands, I can convince the wielder to see to it that Mudbloods and Blood Traitors are wiped out in a single effort, never having the chance to form a resistance."
"And… you trust me with such a task?" Lucius said, quietly.
Lord Voldemort chuckled darkly. "I trust you to deliver it when I tell you to deliver it."
"My Lord, I haven't been back to the school since I graduated."
"That may be true. You would make a superb governor, though. And no one would doubt your seeking the position considering you have a vested interest in making sure the school is at its absolute best. You will one day send your heir there for his education. I want you to get the next opening if at all possible."
Lucius nodded, looking at the book in his lap. "What does it do exactly?"
The Dark Lord leaned back in his chair a bit more, obviously comfortable in his position of power. "That isn't something to worry about. What I do want to stress is how important it is that it stay safe until I have you put it in place. Protect it with your life, Lucius."
"You… find me capable of such an important task?" Lucius said, seemingly shocked at the trust being shown to him.
The Dark Lord smiled, calmly, looking as genuine as Hermione believed he could. It still looked sharp and predatory, but… closer to normal.
"This time last year, I wouldn't have. However, you truly have changed for the better. I thought it might all be for show until the Christmas party. Your wife sealed my faith in you."
They both looked at Hermione, who blushed under the attention. "How is that, my Lord?"
"Narcissa, you and Bellatrix truly are remarkable. Bellatrix is so volatile and blunt. If I were to compare her to something, I believe it would be a knife. She cuts with no hesitation. Her decision is made, and she jumps to it without delay. You… you are not your sister. You are the poison. A true lady. You are subtle and steadfast, choosing your moments with utmost care. You prefer to stay in the shadows so people only see what you want them to see. You, Narcissa, are as close to the perfect Slytherin wife as I can imagine."
Hermione cleared her throat, unsure what exactly this had to do with anything.
"However, despite all your differences, you are still very similar in some ways. Most notably, you are both Blacks. Vicious and stubborn but very, very loyal. Your opinion of your husband being what it is… seeing you defend him as staunchly as your sister would defend me… that lets me know that Lucius is exactly the kind of man I need to be trusting with the important things."
Lucius looked at her with gratefulness in his eyes, and Hermione quietly wondered what was behind his mask in that moment.
"I am honored by your words," she said quietly.
The Dark Lord nodded regally once more and looked at the diary. "I am sure my book is safe with the Malfoy family. Now… one other order of business… I think it time we give Peter Pettigrew a bit of a push, Lucius…"
Yes, I skipped Christmas. Obviously, I tend toward the darker things when writing and doing a whole bit about baby's first Christmas and what they could possibly get him and each other that they don't already have... I hate writing holiday and birthday stuff. It sucks. So, I didn't. Assume they had a nice time. ;)
In other news, please let me know what you think by leaving a review! As the story gets longer, readership picks up, and I love to see new names!
And to a guest review on a previous chapter, I can't respond privately to guest reviews: concern was raised that I might be considering Judaic belief and tradition in a negative light considering the original Narcissa's disgust with pork. Rest assured that that is absolutely not the case. I am from a Jewish family myself, so any of that would be very hypocritical. ;) It was actually a small poke at a person who once tried to commiserate? over the fact that my mother-in-law wouldn't eat pork. "Why would you? Swine are disgusting!" Yeah, they missed the point entirely, and I've always thought it was funny. Also, bacon smells amazing.