Chapter 44 - Chapter 43
As the Lady of House Malfoy, Narcissa's only purpose is NOT to just sit around or hang off of Lucius Malfoy's every word looking pretty, no matter what most muggles might believe. No, she has several very important duties to take care of in her day to day life as Lady Malfoy.
One of those duties is party planning. After all, House Malfoy has been a rising star in British Politics for several decades now. Even before Lucius ascended to the Lordship and took her with him, his father and grandfather had both strived to build House Malfoy up after the dreadful business in France that had seen their ancestors fleeing to the British Isles so many years ago.
Lucius was merely continuing to build upon what his forefathers had worked towards, and to that end… parties were a necessity. Schmoozing and sweet-talking the movers and shakers of the British Wizarding World was essential to maintaining any sort of status, social or otherwise, within said world. And what better way to bring such people together in one place than a party hosted at your manor, where you could show off your wealth to all who accepted your invitation?
That said… it really wasn't as simple as it might have sounded to your average layman. It wasn't as easy as just throwing a party and showing off to people. You had to plan the party properly, you had to show off in the right ways, and you had to make sure nothing went wrong that might damage your reputation or the chances of closing whatever deal Lucius might be working on at that time.
And more than that… there were all sorts of parties. Different kinds for different events. Sometimes you wanted a big, public party that everyone who was anyone was invited to. And everyone who WASN'T anyone knew about it too, and they knew they weren't good enough to receive an invite.
Other times however, you wanted a party that was more… private. A closed list of invitations, with the understanding that those who received an invite would not talk about the party to anyone outside of the attendees.
As Narcissa stands at Lucius' side in the Drawing Room of the Malfoy Mansion, she reflects that this is most definitely the second type of party. For one, the whole gathering is restricted solely to the Drawing Room, which speaks to just how small the invite list for this particular meeting was. For two, the specific individuals ON the invite list are of a certain… pedigree.
Put bluntly, the only people in the Malfoy Drawing Room at the moment are Death Eaters who managed to escape Azkaban all those years ago. A very select group indeed, individuals who had once sworn themselves to a certain being… and then, when that being failed to live up to expectations, they'd done what any reasonable wizard or witch would do and they'd moved on.
Narcissa was well aware that that thought was very much disparaging to her older sister Bellatrix. And to be clear, if the other woman was here right now in front of her, she would never be able to say it out loud to Bella's face. But it WAS the truth all the same. Bellatrix had been a fool to go and get herself caught in some defiant, idiotic last stand after the Fall. A complete and utter fool.
Sure, it pained Narcissa to think that Bellatrix had been locked up in Azkaban all these years… they were sisters after all. But at the same time, the Lady Malfoy couldn't help but admit that her sister deserved it. Not because of Bellatrix's so-called crimes, to be clear. But because she got caught in the first place.
"Lord Malfoy. Lady Malfoy."
Pulled from her thoughts, Narcissa smiles and nods her head politely as one of the guests approaches the two of them. With the usual furniture either re-arranged or absent from the Drawing Room, the assembled wizards and witches that have been invited to this particular gathering can be seen all over the place in little groups. Sipping wines, nibbling on assorted cheeses and sliced meats, they've all been chitchatting with one another for a good half an hour now… while trying to figure out why the Malfoys had called for this meeting in the first place.
At long last, one of them has either been forced to be the sacrificial lamb or has simply decided to man-up and ask directly. Lord Alfred Avery's countenance is as haughty as ever, so Narcissa can't quite tell which it is, even as Lucius smiles slightly.
"Lord Avery. A pleasure, as always."
At seeing that he wasn't being rebuked for approaching 'too soon', Alfred gains some level of confidence and continues speaking to them.
"It's been some time since we've all… gathered like this. Not since… you know who…"
The others in the Drawing Room all perk up at that, having begun drifting closer the moment that Alfred managed to make successful contact. Narcissa watches them with no small amount of amusement, though all of it carefully concealed behind the polite façade of a lady. Lucius, meanwhile, lets his smile become a full-blown grin.
"Ah yes… our illustrious former leader, Lady Voldemort. There's a rather humorous story about that, actually."
Lucius' casual tone belies the highly sensitive topic he's just thrown out. EVERYONE is listening now, while a couple of the more… paranoid and fretful of their guests are throwing worried glances around. Narcissa would have scoffed at them if it wouldn't have broken her husband's flow. As though they really couldn't secure their own mansion? Nobody was getting in or out without their knowledge, and nobody here was going to spill the beans to anyone either. Not when they all had just as much to lose.
Seeing that he has their undivided attention, Lucius reaches out and wraps his arm around Narcissa's waist, pulling her against his side and giving her a squeeze.
"My wife, Narcissa, is actually quite close with the new Dursley Matriarch."
There are some blinks at that. It certainly SEEMs like a non-sequitur, doesn't it? But Narcissa knows better of course. The rest of them can only fumble blindly in the dark. Luckily for their guests, Alfred Avery has already made himself their scapegoat. By speaking first, he has become the group's spokesperson, meaning their lack of understanding is channeled through him.
"Ah… yes, I've heard of her. The squib descendant from the Potters, right?"
Here, Narcissa speaks up for the first time.
"Not quite a squib, actually. It turns out Petunia Dursley is merely a late bloomer. She's learning magic at a startlingly remarkable rate for someone who Hogwarts allowed to slip through the cracks. And her son is even more naturally gifted. He and our Draco are best friends and have been since their First Year. Draco always did have an eye for talent."
She cuts herself off there before she can REALLY get started gushing about her son. In truth, Narcissa would happily talk anyone's ear off for hours upon hours about her little dragon. But there was a time, place, and audience for such a thing and this was none of those things. In the end, what Narcissa HAS said is as much as anyone should expect of her, and Lucius gives her the slightest nod of approval before looking back to Alfred with a smirk.
"Indeed. Petunia Dursley is a lovely woman, to say the least."
It rankles just a little bit, that everything Narcissa had just said regarding Petunia and Dudley was essentially nothing compared to that one line from Lucius. But then, that was simply the way their world worked. He was Lord Malfoy and she was Lady Malfoy. And while she certainly had MORE duties than just hanging off his arm looking pretty… there were times when that was still her MAIN duty, as it was.
Regardless, as wizards and witches all begin to murmur to each other, Lucius continues on, still addressing Lord Avery, but also clearly talking to everyone in the room given that he wasn't trying to lower his voice even in the slightest.
"Yes… Lady Dursley found something quite interesting while going over some of the old Potter properties that have fallen into her family's hands. Or rather… some-ONE. There was a little scuffle, but as my wife said, Lady Dursley has been working quite hard on her magic. One thing led to another and… well, even Narcissa and I couldn't believe what happened until we saw it with our own two eyes. So I won't bother trying to convince all of you. Seeing is believing, as they like to say."
In the face of a bunch of confused former Death Eaters all looking either at Lucius or each other in a baffled manner… the Lord of House Malfoy lifts his hand and snaps his fingers with a certain degree of satisfaction.
Narcissa can't help but share that satisfaction, to be fair. This is a big moment, after all. The doors to the Drawing Room open up and a large cage is floated in by house elves.
Wizards and witches all step back in mild alarm as well as to make space as the cage is left in the middle of the room and they all take in what's inside. Or rather… who's inside. At first glance, the cage contains a snake of surprisingly sizable proportions. However, when you look a bit closer… that's not all. It's not just a snake, but a half-snake, half-human hybrid.
Wiggling her snake tail to allow her to lift her upper half up, the reincarnated form of one Lady Voldemort rises from the floor of her cage, hissing as eyes widen all around her upon recognizing her facial features. Naked, with a truly massive rack that had the slightest hint of a sag and delightful dark areola contrasting against her pale skin, there's just one problem with the former Dark Lady's new form… it doesn't have arms. And if it doesn't have arms, then she cannot perform wand magic.
His tone unbelievably dry, Lucius gestures to what's become of Lady Voldemort.
"Our glorious leader didn't fully die, it turns out… instead, she seems to have come back to us. Albeit… as less than she once was."
Everyone is stunned into a state of speechless silence, as they knew they would be. Narcissa watches their reactions carefully, knowing that her husband would want to compare notes later. They ruled together after all, and for all that people might put far more weight in his words than Narcissa's, Lucius valued her opinion and in the end, that was all that mattered to her.
This meeting was an important one. Because each and every attendee might have been a former Death Eater… however, there was no denying that they'd ALL done better for themselves since Voldemort's fall then they had while under the Dark Lady's thumb. And now that she HAD no thumbs, well…
"MALFOY! Release me!"
Everyone in the room stiffens, but Lucius just laughs in the caged snake-woman's face. He hadn't been lying either. As unbelievable as it was, Petunia HAD come across Voldemort in one of the Potter properties, the Dark Lady squatting and trying and failing to recover from a botched reincarnation ritual. And she HAD used what little magic she'd learned so far to defeat Voldemort before handing the snake woman over to Narcissa and Lucius.
Obviously, she had no clue who Voldemort actually was. Or perhaps she did… in either case she'd figured that the Malfoys would know what to do with her. An unexpected benefit of cultivating such a positive relationship with the newly ascendant House Dursley.
Regardless, there are wide-eyed looks from all around the room as Lucius laughs in Voldemort's face. They continue to stare with wide eyes as he smiles at all of them and then bares his arm… and the heavily faded Dark Mark tattooed upon it.
"As you can see, our Lady has fallen on such hard times. In her new form… she does not actually count as THE Lady Voldemort. Else the Dark Marks would be back, and we would all be beholden to her whims once again."
Some of the attendees hasten to check their own arms, while others stare at Lucius' faded Dark Mark in undisguised fascination. And then… Voldemort seals her fate.
"Do not listen to him! I am still your Mistress! Your undisputed Master! Free me this instant and assist me in gaining access to a new body and I shall reward you all beyond your wildest dreams!"
Silence falls over the Drawing Room as wizards and witches of high status within the British Wizarding World exchange glances with one another, gauging reactions. And then… a titter. Followed by a giggle. Slowly but surely, every last one of them starts to laugh. Narcissa and Lucius don't join in, but they do wear matching toothy grins as they watch the scene they've orchestrated play out.
Perhaps if she was face to face with some of her more… downtrodden followers, Voldemort would have had a chance to change her fate. Certainly, if she'd been let loose in Knockturn Alley or something, she could have gathered some loyal disciples to her to try and fix her condition. But she was offering 'rewards' to a bunch of the Wizarding World's richest, most influential Lords and Ladies.
And they all remembered what it had been like the last time she was truly their Mistress. How she had tortured each and every one of them at the drop of a fucking hat. Seeing her like this now, seeing how broken she was, and how even the Dark Marks didn't consider her to be the real Lady Voldemort anymore… what little fear and awe they have for the creature that she's become is shattered by her complete and utter helplessness.
And without that fear, without that awe… Voldemort has nothing. She IS nothing.