One Hundred Storms
Chapter Twenty-Three: Baby of Mine
If they knew all about you
They'd end up loving you too
All those same people who scold you
What they'd give just for the right to hold you
-Baby Mine, from Disney's Dumbo
Hermione was startled to hear the conviction in Draco's voice. He would go speak to his mother. He would dig up memories Hermione was sure Narcissa was working just as hard as Hermione herself to bury deep inside. It was these little acts that seemed to chip away the Malfoy exterior and gave Hermione a glimpse of the person underneath the family armor.
"Are you sure?" Hermione asked uncertainly. "I don't want to, I mean we shouldn't bother-"
"It's fine, Granger," Malfoy said not unkindly. "She'll be glad for a social visit, in any case. Been receiving a letter a day since I've been back."
"Appreciate it, Malfoy," Harry said and held out his hand, much to Hermione's surprise.
Draco looked at Harry's extended hand with an expressionless face before answering. "As you said, Potter," Draco replied. "This isn't for you."
He didn't take the hand.
After classes the following day Draco walked through the exterior gate and on to the expansive front lawns of his ancestral family home. He made his way along a well-kept stone path and finally found himself in the back gardens. As he guessed, his mother was already waiting for him. A full tea was already spread out atop the wrought iron garden table and a second place had been set for him.
"Darling," Narcissa rose gracefully from her seat where it appeared she had been enjoying a book. "I am so happy to see you."
And she truly was. Narcissa rose as Draco bent down and she kissed him on both of his cheeks. It was a familiar gesture and it gave her joy to do it. Narcissa then took Draco by the arms and leaned back, admiring her son.
Draco was the mirror image of his handsome father. Narcissa spent the better part of the last ten years watching her child grow into a man, and every day she grew more and more afraid that Draco would grow into his father's cruelty with the same ease that he was growing into his features.
The last three years seemed to prove her fears well-founded. She caught the malicious glint that began to grow in her son's grey eyes that hadn't been there in the innocence of childhood. She stood by as Draco proudly accepted the Dark Lord's mission to kill the headmaster of Hogwarts, and she stood by still, unable to change a thing, as her only child crumpled under the weight of it all. In her secret heart she was grateful for his pain – it meant that somehow her son managed to dodge the evil streak of his father's. Unfortunately for Draco his sliver of goodness would not help him survive. Narcissa reached out to the only person in the would she had the slightest hope in trusting. Her oldest friend Severus made good on his vow and now Narcissa's son stood before her while her childhood friend lay in the ground.
Narcissa mourned the loss of of her friend but rejoiced in her son's life without apology. Lying to the Dark Lord for the life of Harry Potter had come to her as naturally as breathing. There was nothing easier in the world to a mother than protecting the life of her child. There was no question to it, no hard decision to make. It simply was done. Narcissa would do it again a hundred times time more and be glad.
Her gamble had paid off and now she lived in a world free of everything that had once plagued the matriarch of the Malfoy family. She loved her husband and she always would, but she loathed his weakness. For Lucius's transgressions he would spend the rest of his life in Azkaban while she was free to continue loving their son. Justice had been done. Narcissa Malfoy was at peace.
"I was so pleasantly surprised to receive your owl last evening," Narcissa seated herself at the garden table and Draco followed suit. She began to pour the tea with a practiced hand and added casually; "I had wondered if it had anything to do with the large sum of money you had requested be withdrawn and sent directly to Hogwarts recently."
Draco paused in surprise and looked up. "How are you aware of that, mother?" He asked.
Narcissa gave her son an indulgent smile. "The receipt owl came to the manor. It is standard procedure for such large sums of money."
"I see," Draco said carefully and accepted the tea his mother offered.
"Care to tell me what the money was for?" Narcissa inquired gently and took a sip of tea.
Draco thought for a moment. "I had really hoped to ease into the conversation another way," he said finally.
Narcissa remained composed, but her eyes sharpened on Draco with worry. "Oh?" She encouraged him to continue.
Draco helped himself to a cucumber sandwich and took his own sip of tea to buy himself some time. He had mulled over what to tell his mother before arriving, but didn't think the tuition payment would come into the conversation.
"It was for tuition," he finally answered. "For Hogwarts."
Narcissa delicately set the teacup back in the saucer and set them both on the table. "Draco, you know your father and I paid in full for your Hogwarts tuition before you began your first year. You're not telling me they made you pay another year's tuition on top of the seven already accounted for?" Narcissa's face was expertly concealing any emotion.
"It wasn't for my own tuition," Draco finally confessed in a clear voice. "It was for Hermione Granger."
Whatever Narcissa Malfoy had been expecting, this certainly wasn't it.
"Hermione...Granger," Narcissa said slowly, as though the words were pronounced in a foreign accent she was unaccustomed to. "That would be the, ah, muggle born girl, correct? The one the Prophet linked with Harry Potter? Not the girl who was...here, with him?"
"That is correct, mother," Draco said, taking another sip of tea and suddenly wishing the Maliceptor would make an appearance outside the castle. "She was one of the ones who testified at my trial."
"I'm well aware of that," Narcissa said sharply. "What I don't understand is why you're paying her tuition. Is this some sort of bribe? Payment? Is this girl blackmailing you?"
"No, no," Draco shook his head and kept his voice level. "Nothing like that. She was actually quite put out when she found out I paid for her. She had a falling out with her parents after the war. They cut her off financially, and I felt this was the most prudent course of action to take."
"Her muggle parents?" Narcissa inquired. "Why would they withhold funds from their daughter?"
Draco then remembered that Hermione's decision to erase her parent's memories was not public knowledge. He told his mother what Hermione did, what he witnessed outside the window of the muggle home, what the Dark Lord had instructed him to do, and how it came about that Hermione found out about the plan to murder her parents.
Narcissa, for a brief moment, was entirely speechless. She knew her son was involved in various tasks that Voldemort had seen fit to assign him, but she never wanted to know the details when she could do nothing about them.
Finally Narcissa composed herself enough to respond to Draco's surprising and unbelievable tale. "Draco, darling, are you sure this is...wise? That amount of money, while not terribly outrageous, could have people talking. What of this girl? Are you sure her intent is not something more malicious?"
Draco stared at his mother, trying to understand all the words she was not saying. "I'm not sure I comprehend, mother," Draco admitted. "But Granger doesn't have a malicious bone in her body."
"Of course women do not have malicious bones," Narcissa said smoothly. "Bones grow brittle with age and childbirth, and what good are they then? We have malicious muscles. With age and practical use, they only get stronger with time." Narcissa looked intently at her son.
"You believe she'll use me for my money?" Draco let out a very uncharacteristic snort. "Truly, mother, had you seen the look on her face when she found out her tuition was paid for you wouldn't be so quick to assume. At first she was perfectly horrified, now however..." Draco trailed off, the conversation suddenly making a turn in a direction he wasn't sure he wanted to take with his mother.
Narcissa Malfoy would not be shaken off so easily, though. "Draco? What are you implying?"
Draco downed the last of his lukewarm tea, wishing he could turn it to whiskey without his mother noticing. "We've reached an understanding of sorts," He began slowly. "A friendship, even."
"Friendship," Narcissa repeated faintly. "And just how...friendly have you become?"
Draco's pale face tinged ever so slightly, which was enough to panic Narcissa in the most serious way. She opened her mouth, but Draco continued before she could speak.
"I kissed her the other night," Draco said, as close to mortification as he could ever remember being. "We were fighting, at least I think we were. Sometimes it's hard to tell. Somehow the conversation took a bizarre turn to death and dying and she asked me right out if I thought Crabbe was wrong for dying for the Dark Lord's cause. I didn't think words were appropriate, I suppose."
"You suppose," Narcissa repeated his words again. "My darling boy, you're playing with fire. This Granger girl, what if she decides you've crossed a line? What if she feels you wrong her in some way? She was a key part in your probation, she could take your freedom away with a swift word. Do you realize how dangerous this is, Draco?"
Draco was startled to hear the edge of desperation in his mother's voice. He swiftly rose from his chair and walked around the table to crouch in front of her. He clasped her hands and looked up at his mother.
"Please don't be afraid for me," Draco said softly. He reached for the right words to console his mother, but could only think of the words that haunted him since the night they were uttered.
Draco, years ago, I knew a boy, who made all the wrong choices. Please, let me help you.
"I've made terrible choices, mother," Draco said.
"You had no choice," his mother interrupted pleadingly. "You must understand that. You had no choice. You cannot be blamed for anything you've done."
"And that's just it," Draco interjected. "She doesn't blame me. She doesn't presume. She held my damn hand when I told her I trashed my family name, discussing the things I once stood for. She was tortured in our drawing room not a year ago and she touches me like I'm something worth holding on to."
Draco felt his demeanor slip and silently berated himself for losing control in front of his mother, for Merlin's sake. He shook his head quickly as if to clear it and felt his mother's hands squeezing his.
"Oh, my darling boy," Narcissa whispered. Her eyes were clear, Narcissa Malfoy did not cry, but her voice was thick with emotion. "If you're serious about this girl, Draco please be careful."
"Mother?" Draco was stunned. He came here for answers about the Maliceptor, not his mother's blessing about his very confusing and perhaps not even real relationship with Hermione Granger.
Narcissa smiled sadly. "Are you troubled? Did you think I would object over a Mudblood? A Muggleborn?"
When Draco didn't respond, she continued. "Draco, I have a dead sister and a sister I haven't spoken to since before you were born. My sister who is alive just lost her only child. I understand she gained a grandchild recently. You are alive. That is all that matters to me. You are alive, and now your happiness is my only concern. Blood is a ridiculous notion created by ridiculously weak-minded people."
Draco could only gape at his mother. He never heard her speak that way before. "Mother," he asked cautiously. "If that is how you feel, why don't you contact Aunt Andromeda?"
Narcissa looked at her son. "I- perhaps I will."
Draco gave his mother a weak smile. "Somehow you have managed to draw out exactly everything I meant to keep from you today."
Narcissa's smile, it looked so much like Draco's, was hopeful. "There's more?"
"I need to ask you to revisit something I wouldn't ask if it was necessary," Draco said softly. He was still bent at one knee, looking up at his mother.
"Anything, my love," Narcissa replied.
An hour later Draco and his mother were deep in discussion over the goings on at Malfoy Manor during the Second War. His mother revisited the days while under her own coping potion, reliving memories she rather not for her only son. When she had finally run out of details Draco rose and kissed her on both cheeks as she had when he greeted her earlier.
"Thank you," he said. "I'm sorry for dragging out old memories."
"Not at all," Narcissa said, composed once again. "I need to thank you for giving me much to think about."
"Such as?" Draco inquired.
"I may send an owl later," Narcissa mused. "And perhaps visit your father tomorrow."
"Father?" Draco asked. "Why?"
Narcissa smiled, and in that smile was the Slytherin girl she had been and the Malfoy wife and mother she had become. "Remember, darling, what I told you about muscles? They must be exercised and I have had little weight to use as of late."
(A/N) I am currently childless, so this was an interesting experiment into a mother/grown son dynamic. I really enjoyed writing this though, so I really hope you enjoyed reading it. Let me know what you think! With this uncharted territory I'd really appreciate the feedback :)