A/N: Thank you so much for the reviews! It really keeps me going. I love you guys!


Chapter 12: Narcissa Malfoy

Narcissa waved goodbye to Hermione as the young witch exited Emily's shop. Emily had invited them, Narcissa and Hermione, over for afternoon tea. Unfortunately, Hermione had prior engagements and was unable to join them. The brunette asked the two mothers to watch over Sophie while she was gone. As soon as Hermione was gone, Narcissa presented little Sophie with a batch of her cookies. The little girl hopped up and down with glee.

"Hermione va me détester pour vous avoir appris à faire des cookies. Elle trouve que vous gâtez trop sa petite rouquine (Hermione's going to hate me for teaching you how to bake cookies. She thinks you're spoiling her little red-head),"Emily told her.

Sophie thanked Narcissa with a kiss on her cheek and went off to play with Emily's little boy. "Tout va bien. Quelques biscuits ne rendront pas un enfant pourri-gâté (Come now. A few cookies will not spoil a child)," Narcissa defended.

It had been Hermione who introduced her to the pastry chef and the two had gotten along immediately. It was Emily that taught Narcisa how to bake.

Narcissa took a sip from her cup and found Emily staring curiously at her. "What is it, Emily?"

Emily shook her head as if trying to clear her thoughts. "Narcissa, avez-vous eu des jumeaux? (Narcissa, do you have twins?)" she asked.

"Pardon? (Excuse me?)" Narcissa was completely caught of guard by the question. She wasn't that old but she was old. Surely Emily knew that a woman her age was not suitable to have a child anymore. Let alone twins!

"Well... Hermione has told you of the case, oui?" Emily asked.

Narcissa nodded her head. She had wanted to visit Hermione at the hospital but found that the young woman was not there. Narcissa had worried because the only reason that such a devoted healer would miss a day would be because of her daughter. She owled the young witch and was surprised by the answer.

The Malfoy matriarch deeply regretted having her son and her young friend at either sides of the line again. However, she was immensely happy to know that the young mother did not hold that against her and that their relationship was not affected by the unfortunate situation. Besides, even if Draco was Weasley's lawyer, she deeply contemplated of asking her son to castrate the red-headed dolt.

"C'est seulement que... (Well, it just that...)" Emily's voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she saw that the black-haired woman was worrying her bottom lip. "Je pense que le Draco Malfoy dont parlait Hermione et Amelia était le jumeau maléfique, et que moi j'ai vu le gentil. (I think that the Draco Malfoy that Hermione and Amelia talked to was the evil twin and I got the good one.)"

"Que voulez-vous dire? (What do you mean?)" Narcissa was confused now.

"Amelia m'a dit, avant qu'on aille faire ma déposition, ce que Malfoy a fait pendant celle d'Hermione. Qu'il était insistant et manipulateur, qu'il retournerait mes mots contre moi. Mais il n'était pas comme ça. Il était professionnel, si ce n'est un peu distant, (Amelia had warned me before we went to have my deposition about what Malfoy did in Hermione's deposition. That he was pushy and manipulative, that he would twist my words against me. But he didn't. He was professional, if not a bit too distant," Emily explained, then added, "Sans vouloir vous offenser (No offense.)"

"Pas de soucis (None taken)," Narcissa automatically replied.

She had been taught that a woman's responsibility was to make sure the household was presentable, and to play the host to the parties and guests. Not once was she ever to meddle in her husband's affairs and businesses. As a result, Narcissa never meddled in his son's work affairs either. Resulting in her not knowing Draco as a lawyer, only as her son. She merely knew the general information but not the intimate details. She did not know his nature toward his colleagues and clients. Even so, she was still his mother and she knew her son.

Draco was the perfect picture of a Malfoy. He had that air of arrogance and aristocracy about him. Her son oozed with superiority, care of his father, and grace, from Narcissa. He treated everyone around him with minimal attention and tolerance. No matter the status or purity, no one was good enough as a Malfoy.

When he was younger, her son would send her letters where he spoke with such passion. Letters concerning mostly Quidditch but a few about the three Gryffindors. His words were of wrath and hate, filled with such strong emotions. As time went on he spoke less to her about things.

But as a woman who has led the life that she has, knew that such strong emotions, that passion, cannot be easily removed. She knew his son was passionate about his career and he still adored Quidditch, but, Narcissa wondered, did he still feel the same toward his old rivals? Or more specifically, to Hermione. Does his sudden lack of emotion toward his job, during Emily's deposition, have anything to do with Hermione?

"Narcissa? Narcissa, vous allez bien? (Narcissa? Narcissa, are you alright?)" Emily touched her arm and she was jolted out of her thoughts. She saw that Emily was looking at her with a concerned expression. The blonde smiled at her young friend.

"I'm fine, Emily." Narcissa gave Emily's hand a light squeeze.

The raven-haired girl smiled then leaned back into her sit. Narcissa took this chance to excuse herself. When she reached the bathroom, she summoned her patronus. The silver peafowl appeared before her. She instructed it to deliver a dinner invitation to her son. The silver bird nodded it's head and flew out to do her bidding.

She returned to Emily with a smile on her face and a plan in her mind.


Draco kissed his mother on the cheek and offered her the box of assorted chocolates.

"Draco, you shouldn't have. I baked Creme Burlee!" his mother exclaimed. Draco shrugged at her, took off his coat and handed it to the house-elf. Like a good gentleman, Draco offered his arm to his mother and led them to the backyard gazebo, where they usually ate. He pulled out her chair and took his own seat. The house-elf returned with a bottle of wine and poured each of them a glass. Her mother thanked the house-elf before she left them.

"This is unusual," Draco said, as he swirled around the red liquid in his glass.

"What is, darling?" his mother asked.

"You inviting me over for dinner. You always invite me for lunch but never dinner. Did your Friday book club cancel?" Draco teased.

His mother pouted. "You've wounded me, my son. Do you not want to spend time with me? Is intercourse with Astoria more important than your mother?"

Draco sputtered the wine he had been drinking. "Mother! What are you on about? Things like that should never be talked about with parents. Isn't that in the parent handbook?"

His mother sniffed. "Why not? You were created by the act of intercourse and consummation. Why can I not talk about the creation of my grandchildren?"

"Mother!" Draco stood up from his seat and stalked away from her. He could not believe they were having this conversation! His mother was talking to him about sex! Sex of all the things!

"Oh, Draco. Stop acting like a child. We are both mature adults. You talk to Pansy about these things, why can we not?" his mother said, looking honestly disappointed at him.

"This is simply not something that you talk about with your parent. It is a wrong and an unsuitable subject to talk about." Merlin's balls, why can't his mother take a hint!

"I used to talk about it with my parents, Draco. It is perfectly suitable." His mother crossed her ams across her chest, looking defiantly at him. "They gave me a handbook about which positions were best to get impregnated."

Draco turned his back to her, refusing to take part on the outrageous conversation. Who talks to their parents about sex? Another reason why mothers were confusing.

"Fine," his mother huffed. "We won't talk about such a perfectly acceptable topic. Come talk to me about your work then."

Draco sighed warily. Work was the last thing he wanted to talk about but the alternative was unthinkable. "Why don't tell me about that desert you made? Creme de something." Draco wasn't one to be interested in the kitchen but he knew his mother loved talking about whatever new thing she learned to make.

"No, you denied me a topic I wished to discuss, so it is only fair that I get to choose the topic of our conversation," his mother said sternly, bent on getting her petty revenge.

However, Narcissa Malfoy was never one to take revenge. The Malfoy matriarch always thought herself above revenge. How curious that she'd want to talk about his work rather than her latest achievement. Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

Her mother's eyes widened a fraction but it was instantly gone and replaced with anger. "I cannot even talk with my son about his work! Am I such a horrid mother that you refuse to talk to me about anything in your life?" The blonde woman stood and walked away from the table and toward her rose bushes.

Draco's shoulders slumped in defeat. The only person in the world that could have him feeling guilty was his mother.

And Granger,his subconscious added.

No, that was merely misplaced simply because she had said something that had a connection with his mother. He was not feeling guilty about Granger.

Draco walked over to his mother and he put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to sound like that."

Her mother still didn't look at him. "Well what was it supposed to sound like?"

"Work has just been dreary lately and I would rather not burden you with it." Draco squeezed her shoulders. "I would rather hear you talk about your latest masterpiece. What was it?"

"Creme Burlee," his mother chuckled but then her face turned serious again. "But if something is troubling you, we must talk about it."

Draco sighed; he really wasn't in the mood to talk about work. Her mother had never been this interested in his work before. Draco briefly thought of what his mother was up to.

Then, as if sensing his hesitation, his mother sighed dramatically. "Fine, if you really cannot, or rather, do not want talk to me about your life, then don't. I wouldn't want to push you into doing anything you do not want."

Draco rolled his eyes. His mother really knew how to play the guilt card. It didn't help that she was quite an actress. "I really don't think you'd be interested with my new cases. Quite frankly, I think you'd be displeased with them."

"Really, Draco? How so?" His mother turned to him with inquisitive eyes.

"I don't think you'd want to hear it," Draco insisted.

"Oh, won't you please tell, my son." So much for not pushing him.

Draco turned them around and headed for the table where the bottle of wine lay. He needed alcohol to get through this dramatic evening.

When dinner arrived, the two Malfoys ate while Draco told her briefly of the custody case, excluding the names of the people involved, then proceeded to tell her of his other cases. Unsurprisingly, his mother took particular interest on the custody battle.

"Between whom?" his mother asked.

"The two parties." Draco smirked at her.

" Oh so smart you are," his mother said with mock sweetness.

"Thank you, Mother." Draco gave her a small bow of his head.

"I am still waiting for names, Mr. Lawyer." His mother raised an eyebrow at him and looked at him expectantly.

"Why are you so interested?" Draco wondered why his mother took too much interest in this case. She knew he couldn't divulge too many details about his cases and most of the time they talked about his work, she merely asked if it was going well or not.

"I want to know the name of the mother whose child you're taking away." His mother shrugged. He inwardly winced at his mother's choice of words.

Draco studied her for any sign that might give away the real reason to her curiosity. Unfortunately, his mother, like him, has mastered the art of a blank mask. He then weighed the pros and cons of telling her. After seeing nothing wrong with divulging only the parties involved, he told her.

"Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger," he calmly said. He studied his mother's face for a reaction but none showed. She continued to trace her finger on the rim of her wine glass. Realization dawned upon him. "But you already knew that."

The older Malfoy sipped some wine before setting it on the table. Their dessert arrived but Draco didn't bother glancing at her mother's work.

"Do you know who my healer is?" she asked.

Draco's eyesbrows furrowed. "No."

His mother smiled, she had a distant look in her eyes. "She is a brilliant, young woman. Pretty too. She also has a wonderful, five-year-old daughter who has the same ginger-colored hair like her father but the warm and kind eyes of her mother. I've come to enjoy their company and we've become close friends." He knew even before his mother told him. "My healer's name is Hermione Jean Granger and her daughter is Sophia Clarisse Granger."

Draco finally understood his mother's sudden interest in his work. He understood why she would want to know, her mother had never really referred to anyone as her 'close friends', until now.

"You knew I was Weasel's lawyer," Draco stated, not an accusation, merely stating the fact.

His mother glared at him. "You are a grown man and such name-calling is very unprofessional."

Draco merely shrugged, then stared out into the dark garden. "Where are the lights? Don't you usually put up floating lights on your flowers?"

His mother looked at him in confusion then stared at her precious garden. The moon had been nowhere in sight and the usually well-lighted landscape was submerged in darkness. "I don't know," his mother said. "I must have forgotten."

The elder witch must have really been worried about her close friend for her to forget about her garden. She never forgot to make it look anything less than magnificent, unless something important was really occupying her mind. Draco glanced at the Malfoy matriarch. For a woman who was once the Lady of the Manor, and former Slytherin, she was acting incredibly like a Gryffindor. How worried she became for her friend. It was still weird associating that word to his mother. He had always known that the Lady Malfoy had many acquaintances but that's all they were. Connections and image-enhancers. Never truly friends.

"What do you think of her?" He heard his mother ask. He saw her looking curiously at him. He looked away and stared up at the night sky. Stars dotted the black night, making it less frightening and more beautiful than it really was.

What did he think of her? He had thought of her, more than was healthy, but what he thought of her? That was different entirely. Well, she had changed. She hadn't been a healer. She hadn't been in France and she hadn't been a mother. Yes, she had changed. But her personality had not.

She was still the feisty, quick-witted, heart-on-your-sleeve girl he had known her to be. She still knew how to crawl under his skin with her words. And he still couldn't help but not think and wonder about her. "She's still the same Gryffindor she was."

"Still the same?" his mother asked. "Do you mean that you still hate her?"

Did Draco still hate her? He used to, that was certain. How could he not? She had been the bane of his existence! Potter only coming second. Granger had been the thorn in his side ever since they were children. The muggle-spawn swot had bested him at every class, had befriended the one person he had a true interest in friendship in, and was able to go head-to-head with him at their exchanges. She was everything she wasn't supposed to be. Pure instead of filthy, brilliant instead of dull, and kind instead of spiteful. She challenged and changed everything he believed in and that was why he hated her. She was the girl that had changed everything.

But did he still hate her? He was still confused about his emotions toward her, especially after her last words to him. It had really touched a nerve. He refused to acknowledge the guilt but he found that he didn't hate her. As disturbing as that was, he did not hate her anymore. Maybe time truly washes away all things. "No, I don't."

"Why?"

"I just don't."

They were both silent for a while. "Theo visited me earlier today. He said that you were acting strange after you interviewed Hermione," his mother said.

Draco didn'tanswer.

"Are you alright, Draco?" his mother asked.

Draco nodded his head. "I'm just confused is all."

His mother's knitted together."Confused, darling? About what?"

Draco didn't know how to answer without making it sound like he liked the bushy-haired beaver. That was the last thing he needed his mother to assume. "I'm confused about Granger...and...affections."

Narcissa fought for the smile to stay out of her face. "Do you mean Love, Draco?"

Draco shrugged.

Narcissa smiled to herself. She had been right! Of course she was right. If there was anything she knew, it was her son. She had always known that her young boy had a passion for her, however misguided it was. Oohh, she was going to get a chance to play Cupid! Oh, how lovely! She was goingto set up her son with someone she approved of! How exciting!

The rest of dessert passed by in silent contemplation. Narcissa was planning how best to play Cupid whilst Draco tried to convince himself not to think, and feel too guilty, about Know-it-all Granger.

Narcissa led Draco to the door and gave him the box of assorted chocolates he had arrived with. "Take this with you. A good box of chocolates always helps." Draco looked at her with confusion but Narcissa merely smiled at him. She gave him a hug goodnight and a kiss on the cheek.


Draco was seated on his desk, looking over his court schedules and meetings. He was clad only in boxers and silk pajama bottoms, having just finished with his bath. He opened the last letter from his pile and saw that it was a request for files from one of his clients. He summoned a blank parchment and copied the letter's contents into it. He sealed it and went toward the magnificent eagle owl perched on his high pedestal. Draco petted the majestic bird. The white of his feathers disturbed by black streaks. His yellow eyes were alert and locked at his owner, awaiting his command. Mercury leaned his head toward Draco's hand. Draco chuckled at his feathered friend. His hard and regal exterior hid an unexpected soft nature.

"Deliver this to Dominique." Draco tied the parchment to the owl's offered leg. However, the bird didn't fly to do his bidding. Mercury stood there, his eyes wide and trained on Draco, conveying a message. Draco sighed and shook his head. "And you'll get treats after." The owl hooted his approval and went off into the night. Draco chuckled once more. The ruddy bird was too smart.

He went inside his room, ready to call it a night. He had just settled under his covers when he heard the familiar tinkling bell followed by an equally familar voice.

"Draco? Draco, darling where are you? I urgently need to speak with you, my son." His mother's voice rang from his lounge area. He groaned. What could she possibly need to speak with him? They just talked a few hours ago!

Getting out from his comfortable bed, he pulled his robe from a nearby armchair. He wrapped the robe around his body as he walked toward the fire place where his mother's head was peeking from.

"Draco! Finally!" his mother exclaimed.

"What do you want, Mother?" Draco drawled.

"Such a warm reception for your mother," his mother sarcastically replied.

Draco rolled his eyes and waited for his mother to say what she called to say. The elder witch took the hint and proceeded to explain.

"A friend has called me asking of a small favour. She asked me check upon our mutual friend. She has reason to believe that our friend may not be in a good condition right now," his mother said. He didn't like where this was going.

"Assuming correctly that I am not your mutual friend, I see no reason for you to be calling me at this hour, Mother. Good night." Draco turned his back on his mother and proceeded to his room.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy, you stop right there!" Draco stopped mid-step as he heard the scolding tone in his mother's voice. Alright, maybe turning his back on his mother wasn't such a good idea, even though he was unbelievablely exhausted. He turned back to face the disapproving and angry look on his mother's face, and he was instantly transported back to his childhood when his mother caught him riding his broom inside the manor.

"I raised you better than to turn you're back to a person speaking to you. Especially to me!" His mother stepped out from his fireplace and into his living room. She didn't bother dusting of the soot on her and proceeded to cross her arms and frown deeply at him. Draco inwardly winced, feeling guilty the only way his mother could make him feel.

"I'm sorry. I'm just really tired," he said sincerely.

Narcissa felt instantly guilty at intruding on his son. He did look tired and extremely stressed. She felt like such a horrid mother now! Ooh, but it was such an amazing opportunity to bring them closer! Merlin's beard! Such an opportunity. That wasn't to say that she wasn't worried about Hermione. Of course she was but being a Slytherin, she saw an opportunity and would have been stupid not to cease it. Narcissa sighed, well she would not force her son to do this in his current state. It would be detrimental to combine two tired, stressed, and one possibly drunk, people together. Besides, her son was already weary enough, she does not want to push him further. She was just about to retreat her request when a knock interrupted her.

"Draco! Draco, darling! Come answer the door! I have a surprise for you!" said a familiar but quite annoying voice. Narcissa raised an eyebrow at his son. Tired huh?

"Expecting company, Draco?"she asked, the innocence in the question belying a stormy lecture.

"No," Draco said, glaring at the door.

Narcissa crossed her arms over her chest, any trace of guilt vanished. "Really? Is that why you were so agitated when I called you? And in such a hurry to get rid of me?"

"Of course not-" Draco explained.

"So you could have a night of copulation!" Narcissa shot out of her seat. "I was right! You would trade you're mother for debauchery! I cannot believe you, Draco!"

"You know very well that' not true. I don't know why Astoria is here-"Draco tried explaining again.

"Debauchery!" Narcissa cut in.

"-And I did not know she was even coming here." Draco tried to calm her but Narcissa wouldn't have any of it. Her own son! For debauchery!

"You very well know why she's here and what her 'surprise' is. Do not make me to be a stupid person, Draco," Narcissa bit out. Her son furrowed his brows and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to calm himself. Hah!

Draco walked over to where she stood and grasped both her arms. Looking straight into her eyes, he said, "Mother, do you honestly think I would lie to you?"

The serious look on his face and the sincerity in his voice was enough to convince Narcissa the he would never do such a thing to her. She felt guilty and indeed stupid to think that her Draco would do such a thing to her. Narcissa sighed. "No."

Draco gave her a small smile. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow but Draco was gone before she could ask. The banging and shouting from the door had dissppeared but she was certain the woman causing it was still there, the noise merely silenced by a spell. A few moments later, Draco came back into the room dressed in a simple black shirt and an equally dark pair of jeans. Narcissa was surprised; she had never seen her son in such casual clothing. Whenever they had lunch, he was always in his suits, having come directly from work. He still looked every bit a Malfoy, there was still an arrogance and grace.

"Where are you going?" Narcissa asked, she was feeling hurt again. Was he going to go with Astoria after all?

"To check on your friend." Draco pulled on his coat. "Come on then." He held his arm out to his mother. His mother looked questioningly at him. "Side-along apparition would be most efficient, yes?"

Narcissa nodded and smiled sweetly at her son. Suddenly, Narcissa remembered something essential for Draco's visit. She went to his kitchen and retrieved the box of assorted chocolates her son brought at dinner. "A peace offering,"she explained. She handed Draco the package and went to answer the door. As she had correctly assumed, a rather irrate and scowling Astoria was still there. The expression on the girl's face quickly changed into surprise then she plastered a fake smile on her face.

"Narcissa! How are you?" she said in an overly high-pitched voice.

"Quite lovely, Astoria. I apologize for the horrendous wait but Draco cannot tend to you." Narcissa smiled at her.

"What? Why? Where is he?" Astoria all but stomped her foot.

"Unavailable. Good evening, Astoria." Narcissa closed the door in her face.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her but she merely shrugged. "A guest should be tended to or rejected properly." Draco rolled his eyes and held his arm out again. With a pop the two Malfoys apparated away.


A/N: Wah! I hope you had a great time reading it as much as I had writing it. So? What did you think of Narcissa Malfoy?

Let me know with a review! :D