Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Depressing, but true.

Whoah dudes! You have some serious ideas about whether or not to go the sequel route. Some of you are SEQUELGASM (mostly because of the smut possibilities, you dirty, dirty readers) and some would prefer that I just make this story longer. I've been stewing on it all day and I think I have a plan: I'm going to post a couple more chapters, pause in a comfy, happy place, and then take a bit of time to rework the ending so there is plenty of room for sex, uh, I mean PLOT DEVELOPMENT. Granted, I feel squeamish about taking a small break in the middle (well, near end) of a story, but you're right... Might as well do it up proper. I won't be gone too long. You know by now that I'm a little obsessive about completing stories on schedule. I get a bit twitchy otherwise.

Now let's spend some time with our favourite BAMFY matriarch, shall we? And maybe her pet? Who wants to meet cuddly Queenie? Who wants to see Narcissa go calmly apeshit all over a bad guy? Who wants to analyze what calmly apeshit means? WHO WANTS ME TO STOP ASKING QUESTIONS? xo

Narcissa hummed an eerie little tune as she piled the meat scraps in a bucket to take out to Queenie. Leftovers had been getting more plentiful lately, and her companion had been extremely appreciative. Seeing as how it was generally a good idea to keep Queenie happy and well-fed, Narcissa was pleased to be able to provide. It wasn't a fresh kill, but it would do.

Still, no amount of leftovers could take her mind off her worries, and Narcissa headed out into the moonlit field with a heavy heart. It was funny, wasn't it? She could calculate a duel down to the final move. She could out-play nearly anyone in Wizard's Chess. She could do all these things, but she had completely failed to guess Hermione's reaction to the news that she and Draco were fated for each other. Because the two women had so many similarities, Narcissa had imagined Hermione would be thrilled to learn she was one in a long line of powerful Malfoy matriarchs, the ranks of which held some of the more fascinating women in the history of magical England.

Instead, she was horrified. Perhaps rightly so, if one was being objective. Objectivity was not something Narcissa had ever really bothered with, but this time it cost her dearly.

In the end, the entire incident was a terrible miscalculation. She simply hadn't considered all the factors. There was Hermione's history with the family, of course, which had been anything but friendly. There was also the fact that she hadn't been granted enough time to fall for Draco the way he had fallen for her, and was still able to pry herself away from him long enough to run. Granted, the portrait's interference made her reaction much worse than need be, but the truth was still painfully clear.

Hermione didn't want to join the family. Not yet, anyway. Maybe not ever.

It was the 'not ever' part that had Narcissa's stomach in knots. Was the girl stubborn enough to keep herself away from Draco indefinitely? Nobody affected with the Gregales had ever attempted it, so the results were a mystery, but Narcissa could guess the eventual outcome. Draco wasn't eating and was barely sleeping, mumbling about self-harm. He felt as though he was being rejected by his mate. A few weeks of that and his body would shut down. Perhaps Hermione's too, if she was going through the same thing as he was.

But Narcissa, blinded by her own excitement and the desire to get things moving a little faster, didn't see the risks. She gave her the potion knowing the trait would accelerate things, only to learn that Hermione wasn't ready to fall in love at a breakneck pace, especially coming off the end of an atrociously bad five years that were marred with the disaster of addiction.

She wanted something manageable.

Manageable didn't happen, and now she was gone.

Narcissa continued to hum the familiar tune as she walked, even though her voice faltered slightly. There was no point in getting emotional about this. Hermione would either come back, or she wouldn't. Nobody was going to grovel to bring her home.

Home. Narcissa groaned. Oh, who was she fooling? They would all grovel to bring her home. The girl belonged here now. Even Lucius, someone who was hard-wired to detest Hermione for all eternity, had fallen for her. Narcissa knew her husband better than anyone, and when Hermione pointed her wand at Stacey McLorrow's throat and threatened her with a combination of violence and legal ruin, Lucius was helpless to resist. He had always had a soft spot for women who knew how to handle their enemies. Hermione fit the bill charmingly well. So off he went to prove himself, or the family, in his own peculiar way.

It was anyone's guess where Lucius had gone, or what he was planning. He had often kept his missions a secret during the War – a way to keep Narcissa from worrying needlessly, perhaps. There was no way to fret over his fate if she didn't know what he was up to. Generally speaking, the arrangement suited her fine. This time around, she just happened to be a little more curious what he was up to. The stakes were high.

She looked up, happy to see the outline of Queenie's stable not far away. These little visits were always uplifting, and Narcissa knew she could certainly afford to unload some of the stress that was weighing her down. It was true what they said about animals making excellent companions; Queenie had been a consistent source of love and affection since Narcissa rescued and rehabilitated her after the Final Battle. Sometimes she could swear her friend understood her, and she was certainly receptive to Narcissa's moods, knowing when to be playful, stubborn, or simply comforting. Yes, a bit of dinner and a good grooming, and they would both feel as right as rain afterwards.

A sudden, uncomfortable shiver slowed Narcissa's pace, and she staggered before stopping completely, clutching her chest. What on earth…?

Someone had just passed through the wards. Someone angry. Someone moving very quickly over the property. Narcissa frowned. The last time she had felt this sort of negative energy was when Voldemort was living in the Manor and the place was crawling with Death Eaters. Not good. She knew what sort of monsters lurked inside the bodies of men. Living among them had taught her a thing or two about how to deal with the serially disturbed, and from what she could feel, this individual certainly fit the bill.

Another uncomfortable wave of energy caused Narcissa to gasp as her senses rang alarm bells.

Whomever was headed in her direction was projecting a severe amount of unstable anger. Narcissa gritted her teeth. She would have to cuddle Queenie later. There was a threat nearby, and as reigning Malfoy matriarch, it was her job to neutralize it.

She sucked in a deep, calming breath, and recalled that she had a particularly convenient advantage to make use of. The benefit of dealing with the insane, as opposed to more rational criminal sort, like her beloved husband, is that the insane had a much more difficult time hiding their thoughts.

Narcissa smiled to herself. There was also that other convenient advantage she had. It was Queenie's dinner time, after all.

"Time to play, sweet girl," Narcissa whispered. She unlocked the stable door and made a kissing sound into the dark.

Rodolphus was mad, but anger was only part of the equation. The other part was of the unhinged variety: he had fully descended into lunacy, and he wanted to unleash his volatile fury where it would hurt Lucius the most. Besides, it was the only way to get the voices to stop.

Since he had fallen victim to Lucius's spell, it felt like there was a chorus of screaming children inside his head, egging him on. Their shrieks echoed around his skull. They were angry. They were restless. They wanted retribution.

So here he was, fulfilling their desires. The Manor. The dark jewel at the heart of the Malfoy family. The perfect spot for a massacre. Oh, Lucius would hurt after he saw what Rodolphus was planning to do, and who he was planning on doing it to.

Lucius. He had never liked the bastard. A strutting pretty boy. A suave con artist. A pansy when it came down to the gritty stuff. Never liked to get his pale hands dirty, did he? What a sad excuse for a Dark wizard. Why Voldemort had been so smitten with him was beyond Rodolphus. And Narcissa? Nothing but a pretty face, as far as he was concerned. She never joined the other Death Eaters on missions, preferring to stay in the old house and examine herself in the mirror, no doubt. All beauty, but no brains. Draco? Was there even any point in mentioning him? The boy was barely even a wizard at this point. He was an absolute disgrace. He was nothing. Soft-hearted hero to Mudbloods. Such a shame to have wasted his potential so dramatically, but then again, Malfoys were unpredictable that way.

No matter. All the Malfoys were going to fade into obscurity - he would see to it. One by one.

The children in his head screamed more loudly, and he ignored them as best he could, twitching from effort. They would get what they wanted soon. Calm down, children. We are nearly there.

Clever trick though, that Cruciatus loop. He could admit that much. Lucius knew his way around a good Dark spell, and had never been shy about testing his little inventions every now and then. Well, Rodolphus could confirm that the spell worked. Six hours, six agonizing, blindingly painful hours caught in that trap until his household security reset all active spells within its walls. Ironically, that was a security feature Lucius himself had once suggested to Rodolphus. The bastard just never expected Rodolphus to be listening.

Thank Merlin he had. He survived it, although not by much, and he was going to exact some goddamn revenge. No dallying about with potions and grieving young men - Rodolphus was going for broke. The real deal. The full monty. The part that would hurt Lucius the most.

Narcissa.

She was here somewhere... He knew it. She never fucking left this place. The house wouldn't let him in, but nobody had answered the main door and all the windows were dark. During the War, she had spent a lot of time wandering the fields, keeping away from the main group whenever she could. Hopefully she was out here now, just enjoying the evening air.

The children in his head howled. "Shut up!" he barked, agitated, before his expression changed and he grinned maniacally.

Yes. The prize. Narcissa. Poor bitch didn't know what was going to hit her. He had wanted her for so many years, dreamed about her for so many years, and now he would have her. After he was done fucking her, he would tie up her perfect figure and remove her limbs one by one. He would destroy her perfection. He would rape every inch of her beauty just to make a point. Nobody pulled one over on a Lestrange. Even better, he knew a spell that would keep her alive until all the blood had left her body. He would leave the pool for Lucius whenever he returned from his Muggle-loving mission. The old man could take a fucking swim in it.

It was going to be a good night. Right children?

A stable came into view and Rodolphus chuckled to himself. Oh yes, Narcissa had a soft spot for animals. He had almost forgotten. What a silly bint. Maybe he could kill whatever she was keeping in there too.

Now where was she?

An eerie little melody reached his ears and he froze, a funny numbness tickling his limbs.

"I'm here, Rodolphus," came Narcissa's voice, her tone soft and pleasant.

"Where?" he growled, squinting in the darkness. "Show yourself!"

"My my, someone's feeling demanding," said the voice, amused. "Such a surprise to see you. Might I ask why you've come for a visit?"

Rodolphus straightened his back and squared his shoulders confidently. Of course. He'd forgotten Narcissa didn't know why he was here. The children snickered. She didn't know what was coming.

"Lucius came to see me," he said, taking a step forward, hoping to catch sight of her. More tingling in his body. He ignored it. "Did you know he's going to Australia?"

"Australia? Goodness, I had no idea," said the voice, floating through his ears. "Did he say why?"

"He was looking for the Granger girl's parents," he replied, sweeping the field around him for a glimpse of her. Her voice sounded so strange for some reason, and he couldn't figure out which direction it was coming from. His feet were feeling quite numb now, and he struggled to keep his balance. "I told him what I knew. To be helpful, of course."

"How interesting," said the voice. "And why have you come to see me? You haven't exactly been social with the family since the War."

"That's nothing personal," he said, starting to get frustrated. Where was she? An odd pain was starting to radiate behind his eyes. The children were screaming again. "Just had other things going on. The family had so much negative attention that I thought it best to keep my distance. You understand how it is."

"Of course," said Narcissa. "A wise choice."

The pain intensified and Rodolphus gasped, his already-shaky legs dropping his to his knees. The noise was so loud that he could barely separate his thoughts from the children. Someone was screaming bloody murder. Who?

"Where are you, witch?" he rasped, his facade slipping.

"At the moment, I'm in your head," said Narcissa, sweetly. "My dearest Rodolphus... You have some disturbing things going on in here."

Everything in his mind went quiet, and a bead of sweat dripped down his face.

"In... My head?"

"Yes darling," said the voice. "You've never been good at hiding your thoughts, but at the moment, you're an open book. You've been up to some very gruesome activities."

"Never been good...?" he whimpered, the pain traveling from his head down to his chest.

"Your rape fantasies have always been a little disturbing, Rodolphus, but I've never paid them much heed. Mostly I just found them pathetic. Could hear them halfway across the Manor." Her tone was shifting now, from sickly sweet to something harder. Something more dangerous. "But you've done more than fantasize lately. You've done quite a lot of damage. You've got carnage in your wake. I can see it all. Where did you find all these women, Rodolphus?"

"I... I don't know what you mean," he coughed, the pain making his vision blur. How was she doing this? His pastimes were none of her business. She was meddling in his affairs.

"Of course you do. And these children in your head... Are they yours too? Did you kill all these young ones, Rodolphus? Did Lucius's spell bring them back? Are they taunting you? They aren't happy with you, I can tell."

"Leave my head, hag!" he cried, writhing with pain on the ground. "I don't need to answer to you! I answer only to myself!"

"Of course, darling," she cooed. "And what's this nonsense about dismembering me and leaving my corpse for Lucius to find? Do you really think I would allow that to happen?"

"You won't have a choice," he gasped, mumbling against the grass-covered earth. "I will... Have... My revenge."

"No, you won't," said the voice, but now it was right in front of him. His dripping eyes focused in on a pair of black leather boots, the pointy toe sheathed in black metal and spiked to a painful tip. The tip was digging into his cheek. It had broken the skin. She pressed it in harder.

Rodolphus couldn't move.

"From what your memories tell me, it is I who deserves the revenge here," said Narcissa, leaning in to look Rodolphus in the eye. She had her wand against his temple and was extracting something into a glass vial.

"What are you doing?" he whispered as the chorus of screaming children amplified in his mind.

"Collecting the truth for Mister Weasley. You have cheated him out of his mourning, and since you will be dead shortly, I want him to have some sense of closure. He can peruse your thoughts at his leisure. His sister's death, your clever little potion... All will be revealed to him."

"Why would you help him? He is a blood traitor!" Rodolphus mumbled, feeling his life start to leak out of him. Or maybe that was all the blood. How was he bleeding this much? What had she done to him?

"So am I, I suppose," said Narcissa with a shrug. "Funny how things change. And I must say, after what I just witnessed in your memories, I'm quite looking forward to meeting Hermione's parents. I'll have to get myself one of those shotgun objects. They seem quite enjoyable, don't you think?"

She capped the vial and kit it in her robes with a smile.

"As for why I'm helping Mister Weasley... Well... It's the least I can do. He's going to be losing something very special to our family, if everything goes according to plan."

Rodolphus blinked. Everything she was saying was mixing together, the screams of the children overpowering each word, each synapse, each breath.

"I have an offer for you, Rodolphus. Since my husband's clever curse didn't kill you, I'll give you the following option: would you prefer to be eaten alive, or would you like me to kill you first?"

A rustling in the distance drew the man's gaze, and his eyes widened. The children shrieked.

"You have a manticore?" he whispered in horror.

"Queenie, meet your dinner," said Narcissa with a smile, petting the terrifying beast as it stretched its wings and pawed the ground with its lion's feet. Jagged teeth and dark eyes. A tail like a scorpion. A deep growl shook the ground.

Queenie salivated.

"Kill me," Rodolphus rasped. "Please kill me."

Narcissa met his gaze and batted her eyes innocently. "Sorry dear? I didn't catch that."

"Kill me!" he cried. "Goddamnit woman, finish me before the beast does!"

A dark smile broke out over Narcissa's face. "Come to think of it, I rescind my offer. I'll let Queenie look after ending your life. I'm sure you're aware of how manticores eat their prey? She'll start with your limbs, of course. Saves your heart for last."

Rodolphus whimpered as the beast stalked towards him, licking its jowls.

"Then, once she has shredded your heart, she will grind your bones down to nothing," she said, her voice soft and musical, as though she was reciting a nursery rhyme. "There won't be a trace of you left."

Queenie sniffed at Rodolphus's face, and he could smell the blood on her breath. The children in his head were hysterical.

"Oh, and Rodolphus?"

He pulled in one last, rattling gasp of air.

"Lucius was right. My future daughter-in-law will be leading us all into the future. Enjoy the afterlife of the damned, you sorry excuse for a man."

Rodolphus felt his leg get torn from his body, and then he felt no more.