I fear I have neglected this fic as much as the Dursleys neglected Harry, and I start therefore with an apology. Life is hectic, as I've just started college (a different meaning in England than the US – I've just started the equivalent of 6th year Hogwarts at a school that has many Hogwartian aspects actually!) and I've always got a pile of work every evening. Ergo, updates will become fewer and further between, but I'm enjoying this so much I'll continue to write :') Hopefully this chapter is to your likings, as I found it was to mine! I figured nothing much happened to the Malfoys between the last chapter and this, so I didn't bother filling in the boring details. Of course, every aspect of this world still belongs to the most wonderful JK Rowling – I bow to your name.

Trying to rouse Draco in the mornings had become a rather tiresome task. He simply refused to crawl out from his bed before ten o'clock, much to the delight of Lucius. The absence of his son at breakfast was welcome, as he didn't feel the need to comb his hair or shave his face whilst taking his morning pumpkin juice (Lucius felt compelled to appear flawless in front of his son, to set the pureblood example of perfection). He had long since forgotten about looking haggard in front of his wife and accepted that she had seen him at his worst, so why bother about a little shade of stubble? But this particular Wednesday morning was different; Narcissa would simply not allow her son to sleep in yet again and cut down any potential hours in Diagon Alley.

"Dobby, fetch me a bucket of cold water," she said sharply to the passing house elf laden down with clean linen. "I think it's time to awaken Draco."

The house elf gave her a terrified look and scurried away to the kitchens with the pile of washing, not daring to ask why a bucket of cold water was needed.

Five minutes later, Lucius heard a loud scream and looked up from his morning copy of the Prophet. Narcissa strode into the dining room shortly after looking rather smug. "Draco's awake."

"I heard," said Lucius, smirking. "You're a force to be reckoned with, my darling."

"I know."

Draco entered the dining room moments later, dripping wet. "That wasn't funny, Mother," he said angrily as his father snorted.

"Draco, how remarkably like a wet rat you look," Lucius drawled with a grin.

She smiled and pulled out the seat next to her. "Come, have some breakfast."

He scowled at her but sat down and pulled a round of toast towards him.

"Your father has the day off work today so I didn't want you wasting it in that room of yours," she told the blonde boy next to her, "and we need to get your books for Hogwarts sometime this side of Christmas; we're not leaving it until last minute like my mother always did."

"But you were an only child too; why were you always so late at organising it?" Draco asked as he munched through his toast, still looking grumpy.

Lucius glanced at his wife warily. The couple had decided a long time ago to never mention either of her sisters, as they both thought it unlikely that their son would meet them and they didn't want him to know of the more diseased branches of their family tree. He cleared his throat. "Grandmother Black was never the most efficient of witches."

Draco shrugged and carried on chewing moodily. "Father, are you going to buy me anything today?"

Lucius raised his eyebrow and surveyed his son over the top of his paper. "What in particular were you thinking?"

"That Harry Potter has a racing broom," he hinted shamelessly. "And I bet if I had one I'd make the school team."

"Is that so? If it'll make you happy, I'll buy you a racing broom," Lucius said calmly. "But only if you drop the moody teenager act. You're twelve years old – we'll only tolerate it when you're thirteen."

Draco smirked. "Thanks, Father." And he left with somewhat of a swagger to get dressed for Diagon Alley, still clutching his buttered toast.

"You spoil him," said Cissy quietly as they heard his bedroom door slam.

Lucius got up and folded his paper under his arm. "I just try to give him the attention I never received. And we only see him in the holidays now – I want to make the most of it." He strode towards the dining room door and turned to smile at her just before he left.

"I'll be ready in ten minutes," she told him as she wiped her hands on her napkin.

"I'll be waiting."

Fifteen minutes later they stood outside the gates to the grounds; Draco was wrapped in his Slytherin cloak against the late summer breeze next to his mother in an emerald green riding habit and skirt and his father dressed in black, the snake head of his wand and cane providing the only glint of colour. Lucius held out his arm to his wife and son and they took it, turning with him on the spot and appearing at the back of the Leaky Cauldron moments later. Draco stumbled forwards and leant against the wall, clutching his stomach.

"I still can't get used to that Apparation business," he said groggily, smoothing his hair back with his free hand.

Narcissa smiled. "You'll have to, Draco; it's a part of being wizard."

"If you say so," he replied dubiously and looked up at his tall father, who had pulled out his wand and count the bricks from the rubbish bin; three up and two across. He tapped the brick thrice and the wall pulled away, revealing the old cobbled street.

It was already bustling with wizard families, goblins, warlocks, hags and all other manner of intelligent magical creatures and all the shops were open for business in the early morning rays. The Malfoys strode proudly down the cobbles towards the magnificent white building that was Gringotts bank. Wizards hurrying down the steps avoided Lucius' gaze but inclined their heads to him, giving the entire family a wide berth. Draco looked smug as the doorman moved hastily to open the door for them, his hat falling askew on his head as he stumbled slightly.

Lucius led them to a goblin who took them down to one of their three vaults miles under the cobbled streets above; Draco, who was rarely allowed with his parents to the vaults, looked around the chamber stuffed with piles of Knuts, Sickles, Galleons and family heirlooms with eyes as wide as saucers. Narcissa smiled to herself, wishing she could be around to see the day he finally inherited both the Malfoy and Black fortunes (she was the last remaining Black heir that wasn't dead, imprisoned or disowned, therefore all of the Black fortune would pass directly to him).

"Don't touch," she told her son sharply as he moved to take hold of a sapphire-encrusted ring that sat atop a dark oak cabinet. He gave her a reproachful look but obliged and instead followed his father's steps like a shadow.

Twenty minutes later they emerged back onto the street with their moneybags bulging. Draco was already eager to rush over to Quality Quidditch Supplies with his father and select a new broom but Lucius had other ideas.

"We need to go to Borgin and Burkes," Lucius muttered quietly to Narcissa as they walked past the noisy Owl Emporium, "he'll take anything off our hands."

She nodded, knowing exactly which items within their household could give them away for the real performers of the Dark Arts they were. "But the cellar under the dining room; isn't that safe if the Ministry raid the manor?"

Lucius kept his eyes on Draco who now had his nose pressed shamelessly against the window of the Quidditch shop, practically drooling over the Nimbus 2001. "Perhaps, but I'd feel much more, ah, comfortable if they were off our hands altogether."

"Of course. Will you be taking Draco with you now then?" They paused, her arm linked through his, in front of the window Draco was glued to.

"I think so. He'll find it, perhaps, interesting."

"Oh Father, can I have that broom?" Draco pleaded, spinning around to look at his parents. "Look, it's so sleek!"

"Draco, we're going to Borgin and Burkes," Lucius said quietly but clearly, giving his son a quelling look, "so please don't make a fuss; we don't want anyone to think we're, ah, up to no good."

Draco smirked and stepped away from the shop window quickly. Lucius took Cissy's hand and kissed it gently before striding away down the street towards Knockturn Alley, his cloak billowing out behind him.

Narcissa busied herself whilst waiting for them milling around Twilfitt and Tattings, picking up spare ingredients from the Slug and Jiggers Apothecary and as she passed Flourish and Blotts her eyes roamed the poster announcing Gilderoy Lockhart with disdain. She was just passing the entrance to Knockturn Alley when the Harry Potter boy emerged, looking rather dusty, accompanied by the Hogwarts Gamekeeper, Hagrid . She eyed them warily, hoping they hadn't spied her husband and son down there; the last thing she needed was Dumbledore's pet student blabbing about seeing the Malfoys down a less than honest alleyway. The pair hardly noticed as she stalked past them and was nearly knocked flying by Arthur Weasley and his band of flame-haired children. She cursed under her breath as she tried to regain her balance on the cobbles before walking proudly on, glaring at anyone who dared whisper as she passed.

Soon enough, she saw Lucius emerge into Diagon Alley from the darker street looking haughty and proud as he stepped into the sun, his miniature half a step behind him looking just as arrogant. She smiled inwardly, cherishing the thought that she was one of the lucky few who saw them without their serpent masks and stepped forwards graciously to meet them.

"Lucius," she said loftily, taking his outstretched arm and walking close by him with Draco in the lead. "I take it Borgin will take care of affairs?" she added in an undertone.

Lucius kept his head up as if he hadn't heard her and replied emotionlessly. "He will be at the manor in the morning."

Cissy nodded and glanced up at her husband. His strong jaw was set and his eyes surveyed the street coldly, but as he looked at her, it melted away, just for a moment.

"Father!" Draco called from up the street, standing in front of that dreadful Quidditch shop.

"Don't holler up the street, Draco, it's common," Narcissa chided as they joined him.

"What is it, Draco?" Lucius drawled, looking unenthused.

Their son looked excited. "Father, this broom would be perfect for Quidditch!"

An assistant inside the shop spied them through the window and quickly emerged at the door. "Mr Malfoy, Master Malfoy, how wonderful to see you again!"

Narcissa frowned at the blatant dismissal of her presence. She cleared her throat.

"And of course Madam Malfoy!" the assistant added hastily under the chilling stare of Lucius. "Come in, please."

Narcissa agreed to wait in the nearby Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, contenting herself with a cool pumpkin sorbet as the pair went into the shop for what could be hours. As she watched her husband's tall frame enter the shop, she had a vivid flashback of his glorious Quidditch days at Hogwarts. Most of the witches in her year – and a few of the wizards – had gone wild for Lucius at the matches; his agility and hawk-like stare was unparalleled by any Seeker of their time at the castle and he could control his broom in a way that the other players could only dream. Of course, his own father had provided him with the best brooms that Galleons could buy, but talent was not something that could be bought. Cissy could almost hear the roar of the crowds as Lucius would take a lap of honour, the Snitch clasped in his triumphant fist, his teammates following behind him in a whirl of ecstasy. The broom collection in the manor was, however, neglected during the years of the Dark Lord and was left in the cellars to collect dust until well after the birth of Draco. After that, however, Lucius became the playful spirit he once was; at home at least. His rise in the Ministry altered him, aged him, but their life at home was happy. Once Draco was two years old, or so, Lucius proudly bought the screaming toddler a miniature broomstick and took to leading the boy around the courtyard and sprawling lawns of the manor on the little thing. He told Narcissa confidently of what a fine Quidditch player they had produced, and by the time Draco was eight, Lucius had taught him each of the seven positions and several rather risky techniques that Cissy tried to not think about too much.

Of course, anyone working with Lucius Malfoy at the Ministry would never suspect he led such a 'charming life in the country'. Narcissa knew him to be dominating, controlling and cruel whilst he strode the halls of that place and she had to play her part right along with him at times. Even as she sat in sunny Diagon Alley with an innocent pumpkin sorbet her gaze was ice cold and expression haughty. None would see the Malfoys' true alliance; no one at the Ministry would suspect Lucius' loyalty lay not with the institution, the Death Eaters from the old days would have no doubt in their mind of their allegiance to the Dark Lord, not even dear Severus would picture them away from their money and estates. No one could know that the only true allegiance they held was with each other.

Severus. Cissy leant back in her chair and let the sun warm her pale skin as she thought of the dark-haired man. He had been such a pleasant young boy once, back in the early days of the Dark Lord when everything was shiny and new; when no one thought of life and death and the idea of supremacy was only a distant dream. As the Dark Lord grew stronger, the days became blacker than night and slowly but surely the stars went out with each blinding flash of emerald. After the fall of their leader, the Death Eaters dispersed. Those who escaped a fate in Azkaban went about rebuilding their lives and distanced themselves completely from one another; those who were left, anyway. Many were already dead.
Severus changed after the Dark Lord's fall, he took it harder than most. Cissy couldn't fathom why; he lost nothing and had the protection of that Muggle-loving Dumbledore to save him from the cells. But he was not the youthful, charismatic man he had been before. Narcissa had to admit, it had been extremely hard to reach the more likable side to Severus – that man took a great deal of work – but even with all the effort in the world, that part of him seemed to have died in the house with the Dark Lord on that bleak Hallowe'en night. Now all he exhibited was a cruel sense of humour and reluctance for anything that could be classed as cheerful.
Narcissa sighed, and took a spoonful of sorbet.

What seemed like hours later Draco and Lucius emerged from the shop, both looking rather smug.

"Mother!" Draco cried as he strode towards her table, grinning from ear to ear. "Mother, guess what Father's just bought me?"

"I dread to think," she replied airily, gathering her belongings and standing up to join them, the fact that neither Draco nor Lucius was carrying anything hardly bothering her. Lucius preferred to have his purchases delivered to the manor via the Floo Network.

Draco turned to his father, who returned his smirk. "Oh Mother, Father's bought me seven brooms!"

Cissy let out a splutter and looked incredulously towards her husband. "You did what?"

"Now now, Draco, let's not give your mother a heart attack," Lucius chided, holding out his arm to her and guiding her into the cobbled street once more. "For whom were the brooms bought?"

"Well, one for me," Draco admitted, walking backwards to face the pair of them, knowing that the risk of walking into anyone was minimal, as most of the wizarding community gave the entire family a wide berth. "The rest are for the team."

"But darling, you're not on the team yet," Cissy reminded her son, still reeling at the purchase.

"Yet being the operative word, Mother," he replied smugly. "With those brooms, and my rare talent, how can they say no?"

Cissy sighed and rolled her eyes as Lucius chuckled. They reached Flourish and Blotts and Draco entered without stopping, presumably to meet some of his friends inside.

"Lucius, how much did they cost?" Cissy asked, turning to face him worriedly. "You didn't dip into our savings for a bit of wood, did you?"

Lucius looked at her steadily. "Cissy, don't fret, I didn't go into our emergency fund."

She eyed him warily, before giving in. "I suppose it will make him happy," she sighed with a smile.

"You should have seen his face when I told him my plan," Lucius replied with a short laugh. "Oh how this will amuse Severus. He always relished in my Quidditch indulgences!"

"He'll be pleased if anything - didn't that awful Potter boy thrash Slytherin last year? Severus will be over the moon if Draco beats him!"

Lucius' eyes grew suddenly cold at the sound of the boy's name. "Narcissa, when we were in the vault, you didn't happen to see what I picked up?" he asked her, all humour gone from his voice abruptly.

She nodded, remembering the leather-bound notebook he had pocketed. "The book he gave you?"

He gave a curt nod. "You know I told you the powers it may possess?"

His voice was quieter and quieter to avoid any eavesdroppers nearby, but she read his lips and nodded again. That was not just a book that had been left in the possession of the Malfoys; it had been the diary of the Dark Lord himself when he was once a student at Hogwarts Castle and, according to Bellatrix Lestrange, had the power to open the feared Chamber of Secrets once more. She nodded again, staring her husband square in the eye.

His gaze never faltered. "I'm leaving it in the possession of the Weasley girl. It will happen again, Cissy. The power of it will open the Chamber again; the horror of the serpent will either scare the Mudbloods away or force Dumbledore to rid the school of them. Either way, Weasley will be at the very centre of it and he will be disgraced, not to mention the bloodstock around Draco effectively, ah, cleansed. "

"And he?" Narcissa asked almost silently, an eyebrow cocked.

"Of the full extent I am not yet sure," he replied stiffly, "but there is no way it can bring him back."

"And Draco?"

"Will be safe."

Narcissa nodded and Lucius swept into the shop. She waited patiently outside, watching the dark forms of her husband and son near the front of the shop. His blonde hair was just as long as it had been back in their youth, much to her amusement and she was thankful that Draco preferred to keep his shorter, although she insisted that the look would be most becoming. She was lost in thought for a moment, wondering what Draco would look like at his father's age when suddenly there was a commotion inside the bookshop. She saw volumes flying everywhere and shouts were drifting into the street saying things that indicated a brawl. Narcissa turned her nose up at such vulgarity in public until she saw a flash of that blonde hair. Moments later, Lucius stalked out of the shop furiously, one of his eyes surrounded by a bright red mark.

"Lucius!" Narcissa hissed angrily as he approached her, fury in his eyes. "Brawling in public? Have you really been reduced to this now?"

"Mother, it wasn't'-" Draco protested.

"Draco, not now," she interrupted, holding up a hand to her now miserable son. "Care to explain yourself?" she added to Lucius.

"You dare take that tone with me?" Lucius snarled at his wife.

"Lucius," she warned him. "Do not speak to me like that."

"Arthur Weasley is a disgrace," he spat as they swept up the street towards, "fraternising with Muggles in broad daylight, and parading them around as some sort of freak show…"

He continued to mutter furiously as they made down the cobbles and paused next to the wall leading to the Leaky Cauldron.

"And the book?" asked Narcissa stiffly, noticing the purple lump that was forming over his eye.

"With the girl," he snarled, "obviously."

Narcissa nodded despite his ice-cold glare, knowing that once they were home he'd take out his anger on the house elf and return to be the devoted and loving husband she knew him to be.

Again, thank you all for the overwhelming support from all of you; the favourites, the story alerts, the reviews, they are all so appreciated! It's heart-warming to think of all of you Potterheads out there, the thought of you all reading this makes me feel a part of the global Potter community :')

P.S. I appreciate that this wasn't exactly a Lucius/Narcissa lovefest, but I guessed a chapter free of that wouldn't go amiss.