The letter came on the morning post. Narcissa heard the squawk of a very familiar owl, immediately recognized its tufted, pointed ears and carefully brushed feathers as it arrived in a house-elf's arms. She sat up straight in her magenta wing chair by the fire, which was being fed by itself with imported wood from Brazilian forests.
"Letter from-" squeaked the timid elf, gazing downward at his feet as soon as he arrived at the doorway.
"Yes, give it here," snapped Narcissa, grabbing the letter which swung free at the owl's feet, caught on a single golden claw.
Mother-
I was grievously injured during the last Quidditch match ─ while performing a daring maneuver, Potter jolted me. Although I regained control of the broom, I was too distracted by spectacularly catching the snitch to save myself. Please send aid, the pathetic excuse for a nurse expects me to wait all night and drink Skele-Gro. She refuses to let me dine with the others, treating me like an invalid or a Mudblood.
-Draco
She studied the messy script and snatched it up, crumbling in into a ball.
"Those- filthy- mudbloods-" she growled. The house elf backed up surreptitiously, inch by inch, hoping to escape his master's wrath.
"How could they have let this happen to my poor Draky?!" Narcissa screamed. She hurled the paper to the floor and stomped on it. Breathing heavily, she paused, then glared at the house-elf.
"Polish the floor, you. I'm going to do something about this... travesty!"
Then she stalked out of the auditorium-sized room, her heels clacking against the tile floor.
The letter was her obsession for the following four hours, thirty-seven minutes, and fifty-five seconds.
That in itself wasn't remarkable; Narcissa rarely had anything to amuse herself with, being Lady of the Great House of Malfoy. The work was done by the house-elves, and a good thing too ─ the witch hated to get her hands dirty. Lucius handled the secretarial work, of a sort: all the correspondence between Death Eaters, those slightly below the law, and those who hadn't even heard of the law, let alone knew what it said. Again, Narcissa didn't deal with those sorts ─ dodgy, all of them. No, her efforts were dedicated when put into effect, yet rarely used. So in this continuous state of self-arranged idleness, she was aching for a bit of excitement.
If only it hadn't come at the expense of her poor son's health.
"Will it...? No... But when could ─ no, that won't do, it won't do at all."
Narcissa muttered to herself, pacing the elongated hallway in deep thought. How could she arrange to help her poor hurting boy? Was there some sort of healing potion or elixir, lost in the dull expanses of time? Was the Mudblood nurse to be trusted? Narcissa doubted it, none of the fools at St. Mungo's were of any use. They were all focused on the treatment of inhuman creatures rather than providing aid to the pure, deserving few.
"How can I ─ aha, that's it, if...!"
A thought came into her head, popped into her consciousness, as random as can be, yet utterly brilliant. Could it be done? Yes, she thought so. And, of course, anything that eased the discomfort of her poor hurting son would be worthwhile.
The letter arrived on Lucius's desk in the afternoon.
While unconcerned with his son's activities in general, Lucius was irritated by two factors: the probability of a bad reputation surrounding him, and the certainty that Narcissa would bother him relentlessly until he helped. His wife was a bit of a worrywart, constantly taking care of Draco's every need. The Dark Lord paid no attention to the minute actions of his followers, but such fawning would lead to only bad things, Lucius was sure.
But, he thought, it would not do to lose Narcissa's favor.
"I'll do it," he grumbled. "But never again."
Later that afternoon, he returned.
"That took long enough," said Narcissa coldly, staring at her husband. "I was beginning to fret."
Lucius breathed in deeply, inwardly yelling at her. He had done everything he could, made all the necessary adjustments to the books, wiped a few memories for good measure ─ no one would ever know. Yet she insisted on badgering him for arriving home a sole half-hour late. Yes, he could have utilized the Turner, taken advantage of its being in his possession, but he was uncharacteristically careful with his burden! It would have been unwise to blatantly skip through time as though it were a grassy meadow. People always noticed that sort of thing.
When he wasn't serving the Dark Lord, Lucius tended to make up for his fun, aware of the fact or not, by being staid and mature. If only his wife wasn't going berserk. His responsibility regarding the Turner had just cost him a rare thank-you from the most doting mother in all of England.
"Cissy, I couldn't have used the thing, it would show up on the registry," Lucius said calmly. "I won't bother placing even more memory charms, it never was my forte."
Narcissa glared at him. She folded her arms, daring him to deny that she was right.
"Be thankful that I took the time to get it. If I'd been on assignment, I wouldn't have been able to." Or I wouldn't have had to, he added silently.
"Fine," she answered, after a short pause. "But I hope you're happy next time, when Draco comes home," she told him. Lucius's face scrunched up in confusion.
"Hm?─"
"In a box!" she screamed, stomping her foot. Her eyes glowed a stormy shade of blue, somehow conveying danger and resentment. Lucius recognized her expression, and knew it was time to leave. She wasn't furious at him, more at the situation that had forced him to steal from the Ministry, choose not o use the pilfered item, and therefore be late. Again, it all came back to her predominant love of their son.
Lucius sighed and apparated away, to his study.
"Men are so inefficient," muttered Narcissa. She laughed, covering her mouth with a gloved hand ─ the transition from chalky white glove to pale skin was hardly noticeable. "But now we can get on with the proceedings!"
She glanced downwards at herself, casting a disillusionment charm upon her entire frame, which glowed and turned the color of the wall behind her ─ white.
"I'm leaving!" she yelled. If she was to travel alone, at least she could call attention to herself before exiting the manor.
Then her body turned invisible for real. That, or she disappeared completely.
Apparition was so convenient.
Narcissa appeared in the outskirts of Hogsmeade, grabbing her cloak around her and ducking into the Hog's Head pub. The door was propped open on a wooden stopper, which rested in a small divot in the soiled floor. She was glad that she couldn't see her shoes, which must have looked disgusting.
She apparated a few yards ahead of where she then stood, aiming to conceal the popping sound within the mournful clank of tankards upon the bar. Facing the portrait of Ariana Dumbledore, sister of the blundering Headmaster, Narcissa cast another disillusionment upon its surface, glanced behind her, and swung it open. a loud creak was heard.
"Merlin," she swore. She knew it was no use trying to conceal her movements, so forgetting any thoughts of disguise, she leapt into the tunnel that formed behind the painting and slammed it behind her. She sprinted as fast as her feet could take her, missing the floor when it suddenly vanished from beneath her and soaring into the Room of Hidden Things, the Room of Requirement.
"Ha," she cried, pleased with herself. The dingy square room surrounding her instantly closed up the hole that had been her entrance, and Narcissa herself immediately turned visible again ─ but only for a moment, so that she could do what she did next.
"Now, I shall save my Draco!"
Winding the Time Turner that hung around her neck eight times, Narcissa saw the world morph and spin around her, dissolving into a sphere of blinding white, until she disappeared into the void of time.
Eight hours earlier, she caught Draco before he fell off his Nimbus Two Thousand and One, saving his broken leg. She proudly returned home to Lucius, with the arrogance and satisfaction of a highly accomplished woman.
"I did most of the work," he mumbled.
She pretended not to hear him, and carried on with her day, waiting for the next letter of need from her dear Draco.
Written for the Snakes and Ladders Challenge, Character: Narcissa Malfoy
Written for the Game of Life Challenge, Prompt: broken bone
Written for the Let's Dig Holes Competition, Prompt: applied phlebotinum - anything that causes an effect needed by a plot (for example, nanotechnology or pixie dust) (writing application).