October 2008
Wizarding London, England
Ministry of Magic of Great Britain
Tuesday

Harry and Lyra flooed in to the office the next day, which was a Tuesday. Lyra had come to hate Tuesdays. She received letters on Tuesdays and her nervous response by now was practically Pavlovian. She'd received her last letter from the stalker...from Draco on a Sunday, which was atypical, so she had no idea what to expect now. The convolution of the whole thing made her head spin in irritation. Knowing it was him, beginning to unravel this incredible web of family dysfunction. She hated it. It was a strange feeling for her. Typically, moving towards resolution on a case left her extremely satisfied. Not this time.

By the time they broke for lunch, Lyra was on edge. She'd spent a largely wasted morning with Simpkins trying to build his Occlemency. He was terrible. The only achievements of their session were that he broke a decent sweat and Lyra had learned that he was both in love with Rossman and afraid of centaurs. She went by herself to the little faux-bistro off the atrium to drink all the coffee and writhe alone in her anxiety. Her solitude was interrupted by Harry who just had to go over with her some dead end about the vital magical differences between English and Arctic moss and how it could all relate to this concept of a blind, that nobody yet understood.

She was about to shove a scone in his mouth to stop him when she heard a female voice call from behind her shoulder.

"Harry Potter?"

Harry looked up and Lyra looked over her shoulder to see a tall, glamorous, blonde woman approaching their table.

Holy shit. Lyra thought.

"Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Yes, dear. How are you? How is...Jenny?"

"Ginny. She's very well. Er...would you like to sit?" Harry offered.

"Yes, thank you." She situated herself next to him, placing her gorgeous designer bag in the chair next to Lyra.

"So...what brings you to the ministry today?" Harry inquired innocently.

"Well, I know you work for the Auror department and I was wondering if you have any connections with any of the heads of Magical Law Enforcement." She said.

"For what purpose?" He pressed.

"Well..." She looked around nervously, "I...I'm worried about Draco. I know you two boys didn't exactly get along..."

"That is the understatement of the century, Mrs. Malfoy." Harry interjected.

The woman gave a trilly little laugh and continued sweetly, "Perhaps, but he's been out of touch for several weeks and has even been missing visits with his son, which is quite unlike him."

"Why not just approach the MLE yourself. I'm sure you'd warrant an audience."

"Thank you for saying so," she replied, acknowledging his deference to her station, "but I keep getting put out at every turn. No one I have connections with will return my owls. So I came here myself, waited in an actual queue to see someone and those horrid little goblins turned me away. I was on my way home now when I saw you." She explained.

Narcissa paused, waiting for Harry to infer some kind of meaning from her words. When he remained silent, she locked eyes with Lyra across the table, seeking solidarity, before cocking her perfectly coiffed head to the side. "Do I know you from somewhere?" She asked.

"I don't think so. I'm Lyra. Lyra Black."

Narcissa's eyes narrowed slightly in distaste, but Lyra caught the nuance.

"An American Black, how...extraordinary." She assessed without inflection.

"Yes, ma'am. I'm on an exchange from New York." Lyra offered politely, swallowing her bitterness.

"Hmmm, well don't go running off with any of our secrets. You're very lucky to get to work with Mr. Potter here. He's a credit to his profession." She beamed prettily at Harry.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "So you're hoping I can connect you with someone inside MLE?"

"Well, now I'm rather hoping I can interest you in helping me yourself. I could pay you quite easily..."

"Mrs. Malfoy, I really don't think that's entirely appropriate-" he began.

"I need someone my husband doesn't own." She whispered urgently, leaning in towards Harry.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying..." she sighed warily. "I'm saying my husband has influence everywhere in this building and I think he's using it to keep me from making any legitimate inquiries about my son." She leaned back in her chair, exhausted as if the admission of an imperfection in her personal life had zapped all of her energy. "You, I am sure, are not the kind of person he could buy."

Lyra had to admit it. Narcissa Malfoy had guts. She also had a good point, and seemed like more than just your average rich socialite. Suddenly, Lyra had an idea...not a good idea per se, but an idea nonetheless. She needed to vet this woman and flip her like a pancake. She was running out of options and out of patience.

"Harry. I need her." She commanded forcefully.

Harry and Narcissa both looked at her, surprised and confused.

"I might be able to help you find your son." She pinned Narcissa with a heavy stare, her politeness from before completely gone. "Put her in an interview room. Give me 15 minutes" she snapped at Harry before getting up and hurrying away from the table, leaving both remaining occupants stunned.


After a quick splash of water on her face in the sink, and a quick touch-up of her makeup, Lyra approached Harry outside of the interrogation room.

"What are you on about with all this? We have no reason to trust this woman." He shot at her.

"I think you know better than most people that that is bullshit." She fired back.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"The file you gave me, remember? I know you testified for her. She protected you from Voldemort in exchange for information about Draco. She would do anything for him. I think I can use her." Lyra explained.

"You think you can turn her against Malfoy?"

"I think if I give her the right information, I might have a shot." She paused a moment before adding, "I'm not telling her anything before reading her though. If I try, will Shacklebolt have my head? How do you do that here?"

"You can't use Legilimency on her without her consent in an interview."

"So I have to get her to let me do it." She pondered.

"I would love to see you try." Harry quipped.

Challenge accepted, Potter. Lyra opened the door to the small interrogation suite and entered. Narcissa Malfoy was sitting regally at the bare table that occupied the bulk of the room. She ignored Lyra's presence in favor of twirling a huge emerald ring lazily around one of her fingers, watching it catch the light. Lyra wordlessly took the seat across from her and cleared her throat.

"Mrs. Malfoy, thank you for agreeing to speak with me." She began.

"Do you know where my son is?" the woman asked in a flat tone.

"No." Lyra replied honestly.

"Then bring Mr. Potter back and go back home." Narcissa bit out cruelly.

"I always thought he got the snobby divisiveness from his father alone. Guess I was wrong. Color me impressed." Lyra challenged.

The blonde woman raised an eyebrow in interest. "You don't know anything about me or my family."

Lyra laughed. It was haughty and confident, something she was capable of, but didn't employ unless forced because she considered it rude and typically unhelpful. Not today.

"Spare me, Mrs. Malfoy. You're a Black. I am your family. Narcissa Black. Descendant of Phinaeus Nigellus Black through Cygnus, Pollux and Cygnus."

Narcissa rolled her eyes in annoyance as Lyra continued, "Lyra Black. Descendant of Phinaeus Nigellus Black through Phinaeus the younger, Regulus, Caelum and Alistair."

"Thank you, Ms. Black for proving you can read a writ of pedigree, I didn't know idiot Americans were capable," the woman sneered.

"Even better, Mrs. Malfoy, I didn't have to read a thing. Your son was kind enough to take me through it when we were children. I've known him since he was eleven. I believe he's in trouble. I'm trying to find him. I'm not an idiot and I am not here by accident."

"You." Narcissa gasped, stunned. "The silly little girl from Ilvermorny. Severus's little ward."

"You've heard of me?" Lyra asked, genuinely surprised.

"I'm his mother, you think we didn't talk?"

The tension between the two women was suddenly palpable in the tiny room. Lyra should have chosen her next words carefully, especially in the presence of a Slytherin mother snake, but she was tired of Narcissa's superior attitude and went for blood instead.

"I think aristocrats are weird and ship their children off to be raised by surrogates. So I honestly have no idea." Lyra replied in a steely tone before continuing. "I studied legilimency with him under Professor Snape. I've spent hours inside Draco's head. I know he loves you, fears your husband and hates how you're treated at home. I know he would love any child born to him with fierce abandon and would never willingly miss time with them. He spent most of his childhood away from home his family. He never wanted that for his children. You must know he resented you for it."

"Enough!" Narcissa exclaimed, voice rising. "Did you bring me in here to help me find my son or simply give me a retelling of my own failures."

"No, ma'am. I want your help."

"Well, obviously. I'll do anything. What can I do?"

"Right now, not a damn thing. I don't trust you."

"HE IS MY SON!" Narcissa roared, standing from her chair and looking down at Lyra with pure venom. "You have no right, none whatsoever to impede my looking for him!"

"I'm not impeding you at all, Mrs. Malfoy. Go ahead, walk out that door and keep looking on your own. Good luck to you, give my regards to your husband." Lyra shot back without emotion. Bingo. She thought to herself.

Narcissa's pale skin flushed pink as she caught her breath after the outburst. She lowered herself slowly back in to the chair and regarded Lyra sadly.

"What do you want. Money? Influence?" I can give you both.

"I want you to do 2 things for me. Little things. Simple things. Painless things. That's all." Lyra replied shrewdly.

"Right then, out with it." Narcissa said with a roll of her eyes.

"I want to read your mind. If I like what I see, I'll tell you the second request."

Narcissa widened her eyes in disbelief. "Do you honestly believe I'm involved in the disappearance of my own son! You're mad!"

"No, ma'am I do not. Not at all. I need to know one thing about you. That's it. I'm a very skilled and very precise legilimens. I won't go poking around for gossip. I need one thing from your mind before we proceed."

"Tell me what you're looking for," the woman pressed.

"Not a chance."

Narcissa drew a steady breath. "If I let you do this. You'll help me find my son and you will keep to yourself anything you see in my head. I need your word."

"You have it. I'll take the vow with you, if you want."

"No." Narcissa said with a flinch, before perking up. "I don't need to. If you cross me I can destroy you here, or across the pond. As you said...aristocrats are weird and you'd do well not to underestimate us." She said with smirk. She looked so much like her son in that moment that Lyra found herself smiling back with a kind of begrudging respect.

"I would expect no less." she replied. "Feel free to take a moment to prepare any shields you'd like to put in place. I can't guarantee that I won't cross them. If I believe they are hiding something I need, I will break them." Lyra gave her a gentle, almost sympathetic look.

"Fine." Narcissa replied.

Lyra stood and walked out to the door. She opened it to find Harry and Zabini standing outside looking at her with interest.

"We'll talk later. Zabini, I need you inside."

The wizard followed her in to the room.

Mrs. Malfoy's face brightened when she saw him. "Blaise! What a nice surprise! How are your parents dear?" She asked, as if she hadn't just had a gut wrenching conversation and was about to have her mind read.

"All doing well, Mrs. Malfoy. You get lovelier every time I see you." Zabini replied smoothly.

"Such a sweetheart." She chuffed.

"Anyway," Lyra cut in. "Mrs. Malfoy has kindly agreed to let me read her. Auror Zabini, I'd like you in the corner over there. Draw your wand please."

He stood in a corner of the room and Lyra stood in front of the table facing Mrs. Malfoy. She turned back to him to instruct "You will steady your wand on me and stun me if I perform any magic outside of standard legilimency. You will stun me if at any point Mrs. Malfoy appears to be in distress. Do you have any questions?"

Zabini furrowed his brow and raised his wand to point at Lyra's chest.

"Thank you, Auror." She said flatly before turning her back to him and focusing her attention back on her subject.

"Mrs. Malfoy take 3 deep breaths please."

Narcissa inhaled deeply expecting the woman across from her to let her prepare herself before the assault. She had scarcely begun to exhale her first breath when the American produced her wand and cast her spell. She moved so quickly, it seemed like apparation.

"Legilimens -" Lyra commanded, her wand leveled at the blonde woman's forehead.

Classless bitch, that was a trick. Get on with it and help me find my son.

Lyra flipped through Narcissa's recent memories like pages of a book. She saw that she had received a recent owl from her son that seemed...off. Unlike him. Too stiff, too formal. Rather than allay her fears that Draco was missing, it exacerbated them and made her worry that her husband was complicit, as it came too shortly after they'd had a conversation about his absence. Narcissa was hoping that her husband was simply trying to spare her the truth of one of Draco's dark, depressive spells. In the past when he felt melancholy, he would run off to Italy or Portugal and return to the Manor weeks later drunk, high and broke. He hadn't done that since Scorpius was born and it made her sick to think that he could be returning to his old ways. She wished he would just come home. She'd rather he be a mess in the manor than gods-know-where. She'd spent so much time with him away from her. She resented her husband's condescending dismissal of her concerns and willingness to write Draco off as a drunken loafer. That wasn't him at all. Not her son. He was complicated. Sensitive. Thoughtful. Better than people knew.

Lyra saw Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy living in separate wings of their giant manor, often going days without seeing one another. They observed all mutual courtesies as expected between pure-blood couples - door holding, mutual attendance at social events, kisses on the hand. All of the shallow visual indicators of a healthy marriage were there, but like so many others, they were meaningless. Something fundamental had broken between them during the second war. Lucius Malfoy had risked the life of her only son to gain favor with the Dark Lord. That wasn't supposed to happen. He had smashed their reputation, made them outcasts. It was a profound betrayal and she would never trust him again.

She hated him and she feared him, power hungry narcissist that he was. He had also seemed more unstable of late, even frazzled. He took to spending days alone in the east wing of the house. Once, out of concern that he'd starved to death and would ruin the carpets, she'd even gone so far as to seek him out in his solitude. The only thing she got for her trouble was a self righteous lecture about her 'hysterical pestering' and a nose full of the smell of burning wormwood that still clung to her favorite Balenciaga jacket. She felt alone and sick with worry and rage.

Lyra pulled back abruptly feeling her stomach coil with nausea, sharing the feeling of sickness that Narcissa had been telegraphing with her mind. She placed a hand on the table to steady herself and schooled her face to avoid looking at the woman across from her with pity. It would not be welcome, she knew that much.

"Ok, Mrs. Malfoy. You made me a believer." She said feigning confidence and looking at the older woman who was panting lightly from exhaustion.

"Oh good," Narcissa quipped, sarcastically.

"You didn't put up any shields for me. Why?"

Narcissa gave a sad smile. "I'm tired. Sick of lies, sick of pretending. My memories? Have at them. What good are they when my son may be out there dying for all I know. He's the only good thing I've ever done and I just want him back."

Lyra's heart stung at her admission. She sat down so she could be at eye level with the woman, with Draco's mother, who was afraid and angry and felt helpless. Lyra felt more than sympathy for her. She felt a sense of commiseration.

"Mrs. Malfoy, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but I think a part of you already knows what I'm going to say."

Narcissa shut her eyes and shook her head sadly before speaking, "Lucius...he did something, didn't he."

"It's not confirmed, but I believe he did, yes." Lyra said sadly.

Narcissa looked up at her with a look of furious determination. "Right, well fuck him. Tell me what to do. Anything."

Zabini choked out a noise of surprise in the corner at the Malfoy matriarch's choice of words. Lyra and Narcissa both shot daggers at him with their eyes and he fell silent.

"I need you to bring something into your house for me so we can monitor him and get more information."

"We have ancient magical wards, Ms. Black, designed to prevent these kinds of things. What are you considering?" Narcissa explained.

"Something neither your husband nor your house will see coming. Something muggle-made." Lyra replied.

Narcissa narrowed her eyes skeptically.

"Nothing crazy. You know Extendable Ears? Like from the Weasley Brothers? It's the same concept, just no-maj...er...muggle."

Narcissa thought for a moment before responding "I'll do it. Show me."

Lyra sighed in relief...and victory.

"Why are YOU doing this? Seems like you've come a long way..." the blonde inquired.

Lyra decided against telling her about Draco's stalking or her intimate connection to the whole mess so she went with an omission, but not a lie.

"I studied with him for years, I know his mind. As both a legilimens and an Auror, I have a gift for profiling. I can help, but most importantly...I...give a damn. He was my friend. He deserves better." Lyra replied.

Narcissa was intelligent enough to catch the whiff of an omission but decided not to say anything about it. "Right, show me to your abominable muggle whatsits so I can spy on my husband," she said with an enthusiastic clap of her elegant hands.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Lyra began. "I don't know exactly where Draco is, but I do know that he is in or around London, alive, and unhurt, to the best of our knowledge. I want you to know that."

Narcissa choked out a weak sob, quickly gathering an embroidered handkerchief from her bag to eradicate any evidence of tears. "Thank you Ms. Black, and I really do apologize for calling you a classless bitch."

Lyra laughed. "You didn't, ma'am, you just thought it, which is completely allowed," she said with her first genuine smile of the day.


Author's Note - I've done some housekeeping on this fic. Patching holes, making better headings, fixing the timeline a bit. No significant plot points have changed. Thanks for reading and please review to help me make this a better story!