A few days later…

"Mistress," said Mippy with a bow, interrupting Narcissa's teatime who had decided to take her beverage into the Main Sitting-Room.

"Yes?"

"Master requests your company as soon as possible in Master's office."

Narcissa Apparated outside her husband's office, entering upon arrival.

"Yes? What is it?" she asked him, scrutinizing the situation. His frown was deep and his brow scrunched from confusion.

He looked up from a tri-folded piece of parchment as she moved towards him. "I contacted a few old friends and colleagues in Salem who helped us with the account number."

"And?"

"And…" Lucius exhaled deeply. "The account does not belong to a Quidditch team or member, or even a single person. Nor does it belong to a business, at least not the kind of business either of us were thinking."

"You are being vague. Please tell what is going on," Narcissa said impatiently

Lucius raised his chin and quirked his eyebrows, letting the parchment in his hands fall to his desk. "Now, we don't know what this means, 'Cissa. It could very well mean any-"

"Tell me!" she barked, her heart thumbing harshly against her chest bone, not entirely sure as to why her husband was trying to break whatever he knew gently. Merlin, what had her son been up to. She had hoped it wasn't ghastly or illegal.

"Fine. The account belongs to a…school."

"A school?" Narcissa repeated. "I don't understand." She watched as her husband opened his mouth, saying nothing. He stood up and straightened his tie, sucking in a sharp breath. She had seen him do this before when something unexpected or terrible happened. It was his mask of indifference.

"Lucius," she called to him again, her voice cracking. "What school and why are you acting this way?"

He walked over to his stash of alcohol and poured himself an ample amount and downed the glass in a few gulps.

Realizing she was not going to get an immediate answer from him, Narcissa walked over to the forgotten parchment on his desk and picked it up, reading what Mr. John Woods had to tell. Skimming the pleasantries, she focused on what her husband was upset about.

Salem Prep Institute for Developing Magical Children.

She dropped the parchment like she was burned, thousands of excuses running inside her head. Quickly, she verbalized one to her husband. "This doesn't mean anything. This is nothing to be upset about. Draco was donating to a school. A good school. I've heard many good things about that school."

"Don't be purposefully daft," Lucius said, his tone rising in ire as he pointed to the letter. "He was not donating money to another country's school because he thought it was a good idea. Draco had a difficult enough time donating to War Orphans in this country. He's paying for a-"

"Darling, please," Narcissa begged. "We don't know anything. We mustn't jump to such hasty conclusions."

Undeterred, Lucius finished with a growl. "He's paying for a child's tuition. It's in the letter. The yearly payment for a child to attend is equal to 18,000 galleons. What is that divided by twelve months?"

Narcissa shook her head violently and cupped her forehead, feeling a dull throb poking at her frontal lobe. "You're being ridiculous. Draco does not have-"

"He very well may have," Lucius said harshly and leaned against the mantle for support. "He wasn't exactly celibate."

"If he had a child, he would have told us," she claimed with assurance. "This is not something you keep from your parents. And for Merlin's Sake, this is in the States. When had Draco ever visited the States?"

"You talk of him like he was stuck to your side for the past thirty years. It would have been simple for him to have gotten a portkey and take a holiday. Salem is probably where he met some girl."

"Please stop talking like you know what happened! We don't know anything!"

"It's only obvious. Now we must promtly arrange a portkey. Tomorrow we shall make our trip and…where are you going?"

Narcissa turned stepped inside the Floo disappearing in a burst of green flames and arriving in the sitting room of an old friend's home. Smoothing any visible wrinkles from her robes, a house-elf appeared.

"Madam Malfoy," squeaked the elf and he bowed deeply. "Pip will alert Mistress of Madam Malfoy's arrival."

"Actually, Pip, I was hoping to speak with your Master."

"Pip will notify Master." He disappeared with a pop, and Narcissa walked deeper into the spacious sitting room, the portraits greeting her with politeness. It was such a nice welcome compared to the manor where the portraits thought her to be an aging, non-fertile waste of a witch.

She did not have to wait long before the Master of the house entered the room with a pleasantly surprised grin. He took both of her hands in his and kissed them both before kissing her cheeks.

"Mrs. Malfoy, you look lovely." Blaise smiled warmly at him, her hands clinging to his forearms like a lifeline, and then his welcoming behavior morphed into solemnity. "How are you? I haven't seen you in some time. I was worried."

"I'm…as to be expected." Narcissa sighed heavily.

"And Lucius?"

"The same."

"I'm a bit surprised at your visit. Would you care for some tea?"

"Please," Narcissa said. "And can we take it somewhere private? As good as it is to see you; I did come here for a purpose."

Blaise guided her to the tearoom where Pip had already preparing the tea set on the table. Ever the gentleman, her late son's best friend helped her into her padded chair before taking his own.

Narcissa sipped at her tea and then rested the cup back on the saucer and linked her fingers together, staring at Blaise pointedly as if she were trying to extract all he may know without the frivolity of asking anything.

Actually feeling the physical pressure of her stare, Blaise cocked an eyebrow and asked, "What is the purpose of your visit, Mrs. Malfoy?"

"I do apologize for the abruptness of my uninvited arrival, but I simply had to know."

"Know what?"

"You were Draco's best friend. You knew him better than anyone. Better than me and better than my husband."

An unreadable expression fluttered across the handsome young man, but his dark eyes narrowed in inquiry.

"Mrs. Malfoy, if you are presuming I may have known something concerning what happened to Draco…"

"No, no, no," Narcissa said vastly, shaking her head. "I know what happened to Draco wasn't anyone's fault and especially not yours. There was no way of knowing, but I'm talking of something else. You and Draco were close and more than likely shared secrets."

Blaise opened his mouth to speak, but Narcissa raised a gentle to stop him. "I'm not here to impose, and I certainly do not want to know everything you and my son did. Heavens, I think we'd be here all day, wouldn't we? Don't answer that. No, I just want to know one, maybe two things, Draco may have shared with you."

Blaise blinked his discomfort and shifted in his seat and smiled tightly. "And what is it you think Draco shared with me?"

"The other day, Lucius was going through Draco's old bank statements and noticed monthly, automatic withdraws. Usually we would not have been bothered by such a thing, but the sum of the money was quite high and piqued our curiosity. We discovered the withdraws were payments to a bank account in the States, Salem to be exact." Narcissa paused and gave Blaise a meaningful look. "Do you know where I'm going with this?"

"No," Blaise replied slowly with a frown. "Was I supposed to?"

"You don't have to lie, Sweetheart. I won't get mad. It wasn't ever your place to tell me. It was Draco's."

"Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you know."

"I don't."

Smiling forcefully and more than a little irritated by Blaise's childlike grasp on Draco's secret, she said, "Lucius and I know where that money has gone, and I want you to tell me everything about what you know, so there isn't any conclusion jumping."

"About what?"

"About where the money is going?"

"The money? The money that you said is being automatically deposited into a bank account in Salem?"

"Yes."

"I have no idea what you are talking about. I have to say with all honesty this was not something Draco divulged to me. May I ask about the account to which the money is going to?"

Narcissa stewed a bit, staying silence and debating whether Blaise was telling the truth. He was an excellent liar, but with her son having passed away, why would his friend need to lie?

It was very un-ladylike, but she rested her elbows on the table and cupped her forehead, shielding Blaise from her view, wanting to feel alone for a just a moment.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" she heard Blaise say.

"Hmm?"

"Is everything alright?"

"Uh…" Narcissa noised shakily and chuckled wetly, throwing her hands up in surrender. "I don't really know. All I know is that Draco may have hid something important from me and Lucius, and I had thought that maybe he told you something about this particular secret, and I've come to find that he has not told you."

"May I ask what he did not tell me that you think he should have?" Blaise asked gently, reaching over the table and patting her hand softly.

She smiled thinly at his comforting tactics which quickly dissolved into a bitter grimace. "The account where the money has gone belongs to a school, a school for children. I had hoped naively that maybe Draco was donating to the school but…" The rest of her words died on her lips when they struck horror in Blaise, his eyes widened and his mouth hung open. "You really didn't know?"

Numbly, he shook his from left to right. "No," he whispered. "He never said or even…indicated. Merlin, he…"

"We're not sure," Narcissa put in. "Remember, we don't know or…"

"I think it's obvious, Mrs. Malfoy, with all due respect."

Narcissa nodded slowly and pressed her lips firmly together pensively before speaking, "Oh."

Blaise sighed heavily and furrowed his brow and shrugged. "Do you have any plans concerning all this?"

"Lucius wants to go to Salem and find…I'm not sure what exactly. A child, I suppose, but to do that, we'll have to find-"

"The mother." Blaise stroked his chin, unable to help stifle a smirk. "Any leads on that?"

"No. Would you?"

He softly chuckled, his eyes shining with memory. "Draco had quite the reputation with the ladies, Mrs. Malfoy. Not to place any discomfort on you, but the girls came and went up until the engagement. Speaking of…how is Astoria? Have you spoken to her since the funeral?"

"No," Narcissa replied quietly. "We were never close and didn't even meet properly until the Engagement Party."

"How far back did the bank statements go? Perhaps we can do the math together, and maybe I can help you with the witch in question, though I doubt it."

"The statements Lucius and I have rifled through run back four years, and the school, Salem Prep Institute for Developing Magical Children, teaches children from three to eleven years of age."

Blaise whistled and smiled ruefully. "Blimey, that's an expensive place, and Draco was paying for it. Reckon he cared a little?"

"Please."

"Right. Assuming the…child started school at three, I imagine he or she would be near seven maybe eight years old. I can't really say I remember a girl from that long ago. And if he was in Salem with the girl, then I really cannot help you. I didn't even know he'd been to Salem. He never talked about visiting or taking a holiday there at all. But then again, he never mentioned having a moppet, either."

"This is all a bit…" Narcissa brought the sides of her hands underneath her eyes and dabbed at her bottom lashes, "overwhelming. What am I supposed to do?"

"What do you want to do?"

"I don't know, honestly," she blubbered with a sharp chuckle. "What would you do?"

Blaise quirked his lips and teetered his head like he was deciding and then said, "I don't have a child that perhaps had a child, but if I did…I think I'd want to rise to the occasion."