A/N: I know it's been awhile but I needed a break. I've only got one thing to say. IF YOU DON'T LIKE WHERE THIS STORY IS GOING DON'T READ IT! Other than that, thank you for the reviews. And I will try and make my chapters longer. Love you all.

A Mudblood's Slave?

"Shit!"

Narcissa heard her son cry out in the kitchen of the small cottage. Hermione said something that sounded slightly muffled and then the faucet went on and Draco came into the cozy living room holding a wet cloth to his wrist.

"What happened?" Narcissa thought. Draco looked up and grumbled something.

"What?" she asked.

"One of the ingredients to your potion bit me," Draco murmured. Just then Hermione came out holding a box that was full of large insect looking creatures. There was a high-pitched shrieking noise coming through the lid as she placed the lock firmly in its place.

"I told you Draco. They're vicious!" Hermione scolded kneeling in front of him. "Now let me see your wound."

He did as she commanded and looked up at the ceiling rolling his eyes.

"Honestly. You men with your egos. It always gets you into trouble," she grumbled. Draco rolled his eyes once more until she conjured up a cotton swab and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

"Ah!" he hissed, pulling his wrist out of her grasp. "What the fu-"

Narcissa let out a sharp meow that put a stop to the evil word that was about to escape her son's lips.

"Sorry mother," he murmured sheepishly, his cheeks turning pink slightly. Narcissa stared at him coolly, with her ears back.

"No it won't happen again," he recited as though he'd said that simple sentence several times throughout his life. She seemed pleased with him and hopped off of the coffee table and went to sit on the windowsill.

"So how long until the potion will be ready?" Narcissa thought returning her attention to the young adults as Hermione wrapped Draco's wrist in a bandage.

"Pretty soon, Narcissa," Hermione replied. "It's got a few more days to simmer and then we have to add the winged scorpions. You're lucky they aren't poisonous Draco," Hermione added, her deep brown eyes meeting Draco's. "Or else we'd have a problem on our hands."

Hermione then returned to the kitchen and began bustling around to get some lunch together.

Narcissa came and hopped into Draco's lap. She then curled up in a soft white ball and looked up at him with her gray eyes.

"You're father was here the other night," she thought to him. She made sure that Draco alone could hear what she was thinking. She didn't want Hermione to tune in on this conversation.

"When?" Draco asked.

"The night he fooled Miss Granger into thinking he was somebody else," Narcissa thought. She sighed. "I want you to do something for me dear," she began.

"What is that?" Draco asked.

"I want you to stick to your guns. Don't let Lucius manipulate you into thinking his way is the right way," she rubbed her soft little face into the palm of his hand and he scratched behind her ears. His mother began to purr and she rolled onto her back with her eyes shut. Draco smiled down at her.

"I realized that a short while ago," Draco replied. "When I was hiding in that shit hole, all I could think about is how badly I'd screwed up. Those were my schoolmates for God sakes, mother! I cut them down before they even had a chance to begin life. And here I am sitting in a nice warm living room on a cushiony chair with one of my favorite people in my lap and those people are gone forever."

"There's nothing you can do to fix that," Narcissa thought, staring up at him, her four paws sticking up in the air. "But you can avenge them by going against your father."

Draco looked startled by this remark.

"What?" he asked.

"You heard me well and fine," Narcissa replied.

Again that inner battle began.

He remembered Lucius sitting across from him in that fancy restroom while Hermione was in the ladies room. His father staring at him expectantly through those pale dead eyes.

His thoughts at that moment had been:

"There has to be a better way."

He'd told his father to give it up. He'd told him to live it up for the remaining years of his life. Lucius Malfoy was growing in age. And although wizards tended to live longer than muggles, seeing as they had a cure for almost every single ailment there was…except for the common cold, mostly because wizards hardly ever got colds; they tended to be healthier. Not only that but they didn't have as many bad habits. Their smoking tobacco was wizard's tobacco, grown without any stimulants or chemicals. And wizards also had a way of reversing damage done to the lungs by smoking.

So basically, Lucius Malfoy had a good chance of living for a long time. Why not make the best of it?

But his father was a stubborn man. And he'd been angered when the Death Eaters hadn't come out on top. Draco knew it was their own fault. The reason their end came about so quickly was because old grudges were settled out on the battlefield… And there were a lot of old grudges. You had to step on somebody to get where you were going and at that point everyone was straining to get to the top of the food chain, or Voldemort's list.

And the remaining Death Eaters that had lived through the war and were now hiding out some place or another, hated one each other with the same passion as they had five years back when the war had taken place. Why did Lucius want to get old enemies back in the same room together?

Even though they would probably come, because even though they didn't see eye-to-eye or anywhere close, they all believed in the same thing:

A world free of muggle born filth. A world with no existing equality.

They wanted a world full of dark days and even darker nights. A world where nobody was safe.

And what kind of a place would that be for Draco's children? If he chose to have any at all he'd want their environment to be suitable. Or Malfoy friendly.

"What's gotten into you mother?" Draco asked staring down at her. She rolled over onto her side and pierced him with her gaze.

"Let's just say that I had more than enough time to think things through while I was stuck in that prison cell," she replied. "You think that I'm just going to run back to your father after all that he's caused? I don't know where my daughters are because of him. I don't know where your little sisters are! Do you know what that does to me every day?"

Draco was now more than a little confused by this statement.

"I thought the twins died," he murmured.

"No, Dragon," she whispered, her voice feeling his mind. "The twins were taken from me by force. I didn't have a choice. And now they're out there, somewhere in this damned world with phony parents," she snapped. "I have more than enough anger to rock your father's world."

"And that's it?" Draco asked.

"No. Lucius made me do more than a fair share of his dirty work," Narcissa said. Her voice remained steady in his mind, but her pitch had risen ever so slightly. "He was the man and I his wife. But sometimes men tend to take advantage of what us women give them in marriage. Oh yes, Draco, I gave up years of my life to make your father's transitions go smoothly. But I think we both know that we'd rather stay on his good side instead of the bad."

"Mother what are you talking about?" Draco asked. He was starting to feel quite foolish with all of these questions that were pretty much the same one over and over again. But this was the first time that Narcissa Malfoy wasn't making sense to him, and when it finally dawned on him everything clicked into place. "Mum, what aren't you telling me?" Draco inquired staring her down with his gray eyes.

Narcissa turned and hopped gracefully off his lap.

"I will stand by you in whatever decision you make," she drawled, as she made her way out to the kitchen. "But please, Draco, make sure it is the right one. If you know in your heart that you want to join your father in this dead end fight, then so be it. I'll go with you. But if you choose to turn around and really make something of yourself in this, then I'll be ecstatic. Just know where I stand."

It was then that Narcissa entered the kitchen and left through the small kitty door that had been installed. Draco rested his chin on his palm, his elbow propped on his knee. He turned over everything in his mind and realized that Narcissa hadn't exactly answered his questions about Lucius. And his mind was still reeling with the information he had been given, even if it was only a bit.

"Lunch is ready," Hermione said with a large smile, holding a tray of sandwiches.

"Great," Draco said with a sigh. "I'm starving."

Hermione gave him a puzzled look before he walked past her in the kitchen.

What was he going to do?

"Draco?" Hermione asked thoughtfully. He turned around with his eyebrows raised.

"Hmmm?" he asked.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said with an artificial smile. He reached over and touched her shoulder. She looked slightly surprised at this. "I'm fine."

He saw a slight tinge come to her cheeks as she brushed a thick strand of hair out of her face.

"How about some lunch then?" she asked sitting down at the small round table.

"Sure," Draco replied following suit. But when he finally got around to eating, he found he didn't feel very hungry. Little did he know, somewhere out in England, his father was gathering the Death Eaters together. And it was impossible to know how much time he really had to make his decision.

A/N: Alright I know. Still short. Sorry but this is what ya'll get. Hope you like it. And also SORRY. It's been awhile. A looooooooooong while. But I did need a break from all this writing. Hope you enjoy it. Leave me a review.