The final chapter! Thank you everyone who read this, I really appreciate your support. I hope you enjoyed it! :)
Narcissa tapped her foot on the soft carpet of the library, flipping another page of the book she was reading. Back straight and hair perfectly done, she was the picture of a sophisticated woman; the portrait of the good wife. She caught Lucius looking at her from across the room. He often did this, just pondering her. She appeared to be perfect—she seemed like everything that a man could want. She didn't speak unless spoken to, she bore him an heir, she liked to bake sweets, she upheld her pureblood upbringing, she prevented the bed from getting lonely. She let him lead the relationship; something he found to be very important and necessary in his house. Giving her husband that small smile, Narcissa returned to reading her book. This was how it had always been before the incident. But all that was done now. Narcissa had cleaned everything spotless in the house. She took care of her child after his traumatic experiences. She let her him stay hidden away in his room.
And just like that, everything was back to normal.
Not a lot of talking in the house, not too much noise. Lucius returned to reading his book as well, although he couldn't help occasionally glancing up to look at her. He didn't know why. She'd barely spoken of any of the incidents after the news had spread throughout the wizarding world. Perhaps she felt it was unnecessary now that it was all over. So what was she thinking? How was she feeling? Did she remember things about her lie, or did she just shut them out? He didn't know. He would never know. But for now, all he could say was that she was fine—she was only looking towards the future, not the past. Her poise, her gentle smile, her willingness to return to normality hinted him to come to that conclusion. So for now, everything was fine.
Even though he'd stopped sharing a bed with her, and rarely spoke unless it was to his son.
Because he knew that Draco really had nothing to do with it. The poor boy was traumatized ever since he was sixteen, and he never had the chance to mentally heal. So Narcissa had taken advantage of that. She coaxed him into following her. Now the boy stayed up in his room, sitting on his bed, rubbing his injured wrists all hunched over with the dull soreness that sometimes plagued him from the recent "sexual" abuse he was forced to fake. He looked out the window. Lucius stood in his doorway for long periods of time just gazing at his son's back—a dark shadow in the blinding light of the window. Poor Draco. He'd been through so much.
And he wouldn't even remember much of it.
His illness had become so strong and so dangerous, that he didn't remember anything that happened to him while he was stricken with a fever. In a way, Lucius rejoiced at this fact. Because if they ever called Draco in for questioning some time in the future, he could honestly say he didn't remember and not have to deal with any more guilt. If anything were to be found or leaked (although it seemed unlikely at this point of the investigation), Narcissa would have to answer. She'd be the one they would look into more. She could be punished. Although, a man could only wish. The Aurors were growing more and more quiet now that the public was taking on a new view of them—lazy, judgmental, impractical, wrong. They wouldn't question much more. And if anyone came forward and claimed they saw the Missing Malfoys out in public during that time, they would be shot down and scrutinized for speaking out against two tragically disturbed people. One night, Narcissa told him everything. She told him about the disguises, the cabin, the murder—and it didn't make him proud or want to love her at all. He was afraid of her. She was a murderer.
So all Lucius Malfoy did was put on a show for the people that often crowded outside his home, leaving flowers and stuffed animals and cards and all that for the family to wish them healing during such a difficult time. Draco watched from his window, barely visible from the gates to the Manor. On the outside, the Malfoys were warm, loving, helpful to each other. Inside, it was cold, lonely. Nothing changed. Not one thing changed.
Lucius heard the Manor doors opening from his seat in the library a few weeks later. Some muffled voices were audible, but soon faded. Narcissa stepped into the library to resume her reading. He didn't want to talk to her. She could've just let six hippogriffs into the house and he wouldn't even give her the satisfaction of asking. She didn't seem to mind though, because she was convinced this would all fade and they would be a loving husband and wife again. "It was a special visitor for Draco," she announced softly, sitting beside him. He didn't speak. "I thought perhaps inviting him would sort of take away some of the pain Draco feels." she went on. Nothing. "They were just boys back then. Maybe now they can work things out. Harry is a very patient person, especially now since he's an Auror, and—"
"You mean to tell me you just let another Auror into our house?" There. She got what she wanted. Lucius stared with hard eyes.
"Not so much an Auror; a friend. A friend to Draco."
"That's only going to hurt him more! The guilt, the pain—it'll all come back to him!"
"Darling, this whole thing has taken his mind off of it. It's not so much at the forefront of his thoughts anymore—"
"You did this! You added more guilt and shame to cover up the past pain he'd felt!"
"Sweetheart, he barely remembers anything that I did."
"He can read. I go check on him every hour of the day and one time, I found a newspaper he'd thrown aside that he'd obviously read. He read about himself! He saw that he was this weak boy who was raped and taken advantage of and that the world is pitying him for something so embarrassing to a young man! And it never happened! It was all his conniving, scheming, snake of a mother that set him up so that she could get something that she wanted!"
"…Lucius, the memories he does have are consistent with my story. Running through the woods, Yaxley's house, sleeping in dirt—it all works."
Lucius couldn't take it anymore. He jumped up and kicked the large coffee table over, sending it crashing to the floor. He leaned over Narcissa, forcing her back into the chair. "I'm going to have you tested with veritaserum." he snarled dangerously. "Because then…oh, then the truth will come out. All I have to do is suggest it, and they'll listen to me because those damn Aurors have their tails between their legs! Every single thing you faked will be revealed. And I'll get to keep Draco since he has nothing to do with any of this while you'll be sent to Azkaban just like your whore of a sister!" Narcissa was clearly flared by these words, but she didn't show it. A silence passed. "…And how would you do that?" she asked smoothly. "If I removed the memories and discarded them with the wands we used?" It took a moment for this to sink in. Lucius was enraged. Beyond enraged—every cell in his body was seething. Oh, how he could kill her right now. He could so picture himself bashing her head in and throwing her into the fire where she belonged. But that wasn't possible. He turned on his heel and banged the library doors open, throwing himself through them and darting up the stairs. Narcissa smiled.
When Lucius drew nearer to Draco's room, he heard soft murmurs and sniffles coming from the doorway he so often stood in to observe his little boy. Draco still sat in front of the window, but this time he had Harry Potter beside him. The blonde boy was crying. Harry spoke softly to him, not meeting his eyes, but gently running his fingertips over Draco's aching wrists. Lucius strained to hear. "I-I…I-I'm ruined," the weak whisper sobbed.
"No, no you're not. Not anymore. People aren't going to look down upon you anymore—they'll want to protect you."
"I-I…I don't w-want that…."
"I know,"
"…I d-don't…even remember it…."
"It's ok. Maybe that's better. Maybe you won't get nightmares about it or you'll have a better time moving forward. Draco…people love you. This doesn't taint who you are—you're so strong because you survived it. For example, your parents; they love you more than you'll ever know."
"I-I don't…know…:
"What do you mean? Your mum protected you in every way she could. Your dad is here for you."
"I-Is he?"
"…Do you feel that he's not?"
"W-Well…I know he checks on me….I know he sees me….But I feel like I've made him ashamed of me. N-No Malfoy is supposed to be…weak. And e-especially not…not like…this…."
"Draco, you couldn't help it. It was beyond your control, just like everything in your life so far. It's alright. He loves you so much. He just may not know how to approach you yet because he doesn't want to hurt you."
Harry reached over and wrapped his arms around Draco's frail shoulders, causing the smaller blonde to flinch a bit. It took a few seconds for him to relax into the hug. He buried his face into Harry's Auror robes—Lucius could hear the sobs from outside the door. And yet Potter was still gentle, still kind, even after Draco just sobbed for nearly ten minutes. He didn't leave. He didn't get frustrated. He was so prepared to let the boy know he was there for him. Lucius's heart broke when he heard his son whisper an apology to Harry, and when the other boy told him he had nothing to feel guilty about.
Narcissa appeared beside Lucius, and slipped her hand into his. Harry looked behind them to see the parents there, breaking off his hug with Draco to nod to them. Narcissa smiled wordlessly again, and hugged her husband's arm. Harry went back to speaking to his blonde friend softly. Lucius let them have privacy. He and Narcissa stepped away.
As he walked down the stairs behind her, he couldn't help but ponder her beautiful head. He had the option to trip her right then and there and watch it crack open, but he knew he simply could not. What was going on in that head? What was she feeling? What was she thinking? The age-old question with Narcissa. It could never be answered. Only every so often would she allow a glimpse into her thought process—her neurological network. What she allowed to be visible (only to a select few) was not pretty. So they went back into the library, where Lucius sat on one chair, and she sat beside him, and they opened their books once again. It was just like normal. Whatever normal was for the Malfoy family.