Author's Note: This work was originally posted to my account on AO3.
Tags on AO3: Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Fix-It, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Narcissa Black Malfoy, Malfoy Family, Malfoy Manor, Mother-Son Relationship, Bonding, Family, Slytherins Being Slytherins, Horcruxes, Horcrux Hunting, Canon-Typical Violence, Pre-Philosopher's Stone, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Minor Character Death, POV Third Person Limited
YOU'LL GO THE SAME WAY
5) FIVE
The next Horcrux they go after is the easiest to reach. At least, it is for them. The task would have been much harder for someone who was not a daughter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black or her son. Number Twelve Grimmauld Place is a fortress of Dark magic, a hidden and viciously protective refuge, and it's truly ironic that this place became the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.
Draco can almost admire Sirius Black's sense of humor in making such a thing possible. In his opinion, despite the man rather infamously being a Gryffindor, that's a very Slytherin way of getting back at someone you despised. Or very Hufflepuff, depending on your point of view.
After the diary being hidden at Malfoy Manor, Narcissa does not appear surprised to hear that another Horcrux was entrusted to a Dark family. The Blacks are infamously Dark, after all. She is, therefore, surprised to learn that Slytherin's locket is not supposed to be hidden with the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. It surprised Draco too, to learn that it was there because it was secretly stolen during the First Wizarding War.
Draco tells her the story as it was told to him – the secret treachery of his first-cousin-once-removed. It's a story that's missing all the details – all the whys and the hows – and all there is are only the bare bones of what happened. But it's still enough to have stunned tears down his mother's face.
Narcissa does not sob or bawl, she just… has tears running down her cheeks… as she stares with wide eyes and appears otherwise unaffected. It's extremely alarming and Draco has no idea how to comfort her. He didn't remember that Sirius Black even had a brother until someone told him this story; he had no idea that the late and largely forgotten Regulus Black, traitorous Death Eater and Horcrux discoverer and thief, actually meant something to his mother.
They sit in silence in the Grimmauld Place parlour for a while. Narcissa repeatedly brushes away the constantly streaming tears with her handkerchief. Draco cautiously accepts a drink from the ancient house elf that is beyond delighted to see them and also extremely emotional over Draco's late cousin. There are probably elf tears in the drink, which Draco pretends to drink and quickly sets aside.
Eventually, though, Narcissa demands that the elf fetch the locket. The house elf does, sobbing and ecstatic, and a dormant artifact of Dark magic is soon set on the parlour carpet. Then Narcissa, red-eyed and grim-faced, holds an expectant hand out to Draco.
Draco stares warily at it. She looks angry. He did not expect her to be angry.
"The sword," Narcissa demands.
The Sword of Gryffindor was entrusted to Draco purely for this mission. He has been very careful not to abuse it or show it off or act as though it is doing anything in his presence but doing him an enormous favour. Because if it decides to disappear on him, he's kind of buggered. He refuses to have anything to do with Fiendfyre and he's not about to go slay a Basilisk, and the other Sword of Gryffindor isn't imbued with venom, so he needs this one.
But Narcissa Malfoy looks really, really angry, so Draco pulls the Sword of Gryffindor from his sleeve and hands it carefully over to his mother. Then he sits back on a dusty sofa as Narcissa takes the sword and… well… destroys a Horcrux.
Very vehemently and with no care for the noxious mist or strangled screams or the white light scorching marks into the floorboards.
There is a little too much vicious twisting happening there, honestly.
When the scream finally dies with its soulpiece, Narcissa straightens and takes a deep breath. She pushes a disheveled lock of hair back behind her ear, then she leans the sword against Draco's sofa and sits back down in her ancient armchair. There is a deeply satisfied glint to her grey eyes, as she looks towards the absolutely mangled historical artifact on the parlour floor.
As Draco carefully takes the sword back, he gets a couple of impressions from it. The first is that the Sword of Gryffindor isn't at all happy at being handed around like some second-hand quill. The second, however, is a very reluctant feeling of approval and a lot wistful nostalgia at such bloody vengeance. Draco immediately resolves that he does not want to know about that and that – considering the handful of Gryffindors in his acquaintance – he really isn't as surprised as he would have thought he'd be.
Narcissa keeps taking deep, calming breaths. Draco carefully sheathes the sharp blade. The house elf, bawling uncontrollably again, offers Narcissa a drink. Unlike Draco, she takes it and immediately downs the whole glass of sherry all at once.
Once she's finished, she hands it back to the elf, looks at Draco and says rather collectedly, "I need to be meeting Lucius for lunch in about two hours or so." Her eyes are still red and her face is pale and her hands tremble in her lap, but her voice stays smooth and steady. "Is that all there is to be done here? If so, I'd like to return to the house now."
oOo
Author's Note: This fic is finished and chapters will be posted daily until it's complete. There will be 10 chapters.