A house elf was waiting for Harry outside his room the following morning. Harry was beginning to find it easier to distinguish one elf from another, and he recognized this one as Weedy, an elf who occasionally helped around the kitchen but usually stuck to the garden. He was surprisingly clean today, in a plain white, stainless pillowcase.

"Mr. Potter!" Weedy exclaimed. "You woke up late this morning!"

"Good morning, Weedy," said Harry. "You haven't been waiting outside here for long, have you?"

"It's the duty of a house elf to wait for a Master for as long as the Master needs!"

"I'm not your master," Harry muttered, crouching down next to the elf. "Have you been gardening much recently?"

"Mrs Malfoy says you are a master of Malfoy Manor now and that you should be treated as such," said Weedy happily, before adding with a slight note of regret, "Weedy hasn't been in the garden lately, Sir. Mrs Malfoy is too ill and needs all the spare hands she can get."

"Ah," said Harry uncomfortably. "How is she?"

"Not very well, Mr. Potter. Not very well at all." Weedy shook his head sadly, and then furrowed through his pillowcase for a slightly crunched up piece of parchment, which he held out to Harry.

"What's this?" he asked as he took it.

"A message for you, Sir!" said Weedy importantly. "I was told to deliver it right away. But now I should probably go back, Sir." Harry nodded. He barely noticed as Weedy disappeared, his tiny feet not making a sound on the tiled floors.

Opening the letter, Harry recognized the handwriting and green ink immediately – it was a summons from Narcissa for him to visit her in her room. He made a slight face.

But he had a lot to ask her. He made his way to the fireplace at the end of the hall.

Harry was so used to traveling by floo now that the sensation barely bothered him at all. He stepped out into a corridor in the West Wing. A house elf scurried past with a teapot and teacups and Harry followed her to the master bedroom, but didn't continue inside and let the door pull shut behind her. He could hear tea being poured, shallow breathing and a whisper of words shared between Narcissa and the elf. Harry leaned forward towards the room, trying to hear, and jumped when the elf pulled the door wide and beckoned him inside.

"Mrs. Malfoy requests that you come in now, Sir," she squeaked with a low bow.

Narcissa was lying in a huge bed surrounded by fluffy pillows and lacy drapes. Her golden hair was plastered to her forehead. There was a distance to her eyes, a mistiness, that startled Harry.

"Harry?" Narcissa whispered. Her voice was barely audible. The female elf hurried forward with a large silver bowl and Narcissa choked, half vomiting and half spitting, as the elf jumped up on the bed to wipe her face.

Narcissa made a noise that sounded vaguely like 'not now' before her eyes rolled back in her head and she screamed some indistinguishable words.

Harry made to jump forward, to find a way to help her, when a small but powerful hand wrapped around his wrist. He looked down to see Weedy, who he hadn't even noticed to be in the room, shaking his big head sadly.

"There's nothing you can do," Weedy said as Narcissa started to sob. "I think you should come back later."

"No," Narcissa cried suddenly, almost desperately. "I need to speak with him" She tried to sit up, but her arms fell beneath her weight. Weedy and the other elf between them propped her up, and Weedy offered her some tea but she was shaking too badly to hold it.

"What... what is this?" Harry asked, terrified.

"House elves, leave us," said Narcissa harshly, trying her best to keep up her superior appearance, but her voice still shook and the elves hesitated before hurrying away.

"Don't look so alarmed," she said, and smiled a humorless smile. Her breathing was beginning to regulate again. "This disease that I have doesn't even exist!" Harry let his confusion show, furrowing his brows. He wasn't sure if she noticed or not.

"Sit down." Harry took the seat next to her bed. "What I have, it's mentioned occasionally in very old books – is a disease that kills the mind, the body, the soul, the magic." Narcissa paused to wipe sweat off of her brow with a handkerchief. "There was never a cure, and it was never properly studied or documented. The superstitious feared it too much to call it by it's name, and so the true name was lost, but some call it now The Curse of the Damned.

"I'm not only going mad and loosing my magic, but I'm dying, Harry. I have, perhaps, a month left to live. Maybe more, maybe less. And that's why I called you in now. It's time I was honest with you. There's something I need to tell you before I lose my mind completely."

Was this weak, helpless woman really the powerful, beautiful, demanding Malfoy Harry knew? Harry wanted to reach out a hand and help her somehow. He wanted to tell her he could save her.

"How can you just accept it like that?" he said gruffly. "There has to be a way. There has to be someone who can help you!"

"Don't make this harder than it is," said Narcissa, and Harry thought he heard an edge of coldness to her voice, and it eased his anger a little. "I've accepted it, and Draco will too, eventually." Harry chocked on his reply as he realized that Narcissa's death wouldn't just affect the daily prophet headlines – if Narcissa died, Malfoy wouldn't have a single family member left.

"Malfoy – I mean, Draco -" Harry cut himself off. What was he going to say?

"You're right, he'll be alone." Narcissa held Harry's gaze until Harry looked away. "He'll need someone."

"That's why you brought me here!" Harry exclaimed. "You knew this was happening, and you wanted me as company for Mal - Draco after-"

"You're smart," Narcissa interrupted sharply, "but wrong. Don't interrupt me, I can't talk for long." She seemed to be trying her hardest to stay composed, but her hands were still shaking, her hair was still damp with sweat and her eyes seemed to have trouble focusing. Harry pursed his lips and Narcissa continued.

"Before I say anything else I want to say this: You're free to leave the mansion, the grounds, and never return again or associate yourself with the Malfoys unless it's by your own desire. I hereby break all our ties, and you are no longer in my debt."

Harry was shocked. Just like that?

"I may be mad simply for that," Narcissa continued, "but my plan hasn't worked, so forcing you to stay now would be pointless. However, before you leave, please, hear me out." Narcissa waited for Harry to nod before continuing.

"When the Dark Lord fell, we were finally family again. Lucius and Draco have never had a normal Father-son relationship, but before Draco's second year of Hogwarts Lucius wasn't afraid to compliment Draco, to offer guidance instead of order, and to express his pride, to a degree. But after the events regarding The Stone he had to be stricter and colder in order to prepare Draco for the Dark Lord's revival and reign. I think Draco hated him for it, but I know that Lucius loves him and was only trying to protect him. I'm sure of it.

"Draco needs his father. Without Lucius he has nothing to live for. He'll be alone. He'll be alone in a world that despises him. I forced you here because I wanted Draco to befriend you. I wanted him to convince you to appeal to the Ministry for Lucius' freedom. But you and Draco didn't get along, and I'm sorry for that. My plan failed.

I appeal to you now, Harry, and beg you to save my family. Please, don't let my family die with me."

Was this a trick?

"That's – that's all," Narcissa wheezed suddenly, clutching a hand to her chest. And then the room erupted into chaos.

At Narcissa's scream, six house elves rushed in. Harry was pulled away roughly by several pairs of tiny hands, dragging him towards the door. Narcissa was bent double, her hands over her ears and her legs flailing beneath the duvets. "Get out of my head!" she wailed at unheard voices. "Let them go!" She screamed again and as Harry was shoved out the door he heard the crash of something fragile, perhaps the teapot, hitting the ground. The door was slammed in his face, but the wails of Narcissa echoed loudly down the halls.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Mr. Potter," said an elf who had followed him out. "She doesn't have long now. Please leave her in peace."

It wasn't until Harry stepped into the fireplace again that there was silence.

What am I going to do? He wondered.