AN: Hardly edited this but I thought I change the POV for a bit. Any mistakes, sorry in advance. I recently got my dogette spayed so I kind of have to keep an eye on her movements. Couldn't get a costume since I found out I would be working on that day. STILL Happy Sunday, Happy SPOOKWEEK/Halloween.Thanks everyone for reading. Please please please make sure you Fav/Follow/Review. It lets me know if i'm doing a terrible job. Oh and thanks Foxtrot1702 for the advice. It gave me time to really think about what I wanna do's with this. Especially since I lack patience when it comes to pacing myself. Anyways... Thanks again for reading~
Lucius wanted Draco to be an assistant of sorts, a guide to help his dear nephew.
Not only for the reputation but for the influence of Mortimer's title and the name he carried. To become a tutor in the ways of wizardry court.
So it was that now, he couldn't seem to wipe the disbelief off his ivory face. Standing on the second-floor balcony, back of the manor, he watches helplessly.
Gaping, his son and nephew playing exploding snap, only they weren't actually playing. They were simply throwing cards at each other hoping they would explode on one of them.
Crack! The card blows as it landed next to Mortimer's back end.
"Ouch!" Mortimer starts rubbing while Draco laughs. A second sooner he hisses when a different card lands near his cousin's thigh.
Both laugh.
"How wonderful." Looking behind him, Lucius finds his wife approaching. She stands beside him, a smile rising from her face. "They're having fun."
Selfish as it may sound, he couldn't find himself to agree. "You call that fun? I call it a waste of time. Mortimer should be studying the Black family lineage and Draco should be working on his school studies."
"Oh hush now Lucius. They are mere boys, let them be children." She places a hand behind his back. "I worried about them. I was afraid they would not get along. I am glad to have been wrong."
A small harsh of wind blew across the couple. She shivers slightly and huddles closer to her husband. Accepting her affectionate move, he embraces her.
Aside from the ball she's hosting, Narcissa was excited to have a nice quiet celebration with just her family. Gifts had already been gathered. To be honest, finding the perfect gift for her nephew had been rather tricky. He wasn't like draco, far from it. Reserved, studious and apprehensive, her nephew didn't ask for much, rarely asked for anything, when he did, it was mostly minor thing.
For example, that small blue ball of his. A bizarre request, he nearly threw a fit when he was first denied by her husband. She couldn't figure out why but it seemed to improve her nephew's mood as it rested in his palm. Till this day, you could catch the boy playing the trinket toy.
Lucius didn't shake his head but only continues to stare, there was a small comfort in knowing Narcissa's concerns were at ease. "But look at them. This is not what I want from them. Mortimer has much to learn. If he is to assume responsibilities over the Black title, he needs put childish things aside and focus on the real problem."
"Pray tell husband, What is the 'real' problem?" Raising a brow, she removes her hand.
"It's not just the Black title – You said it yourself, he's Salazar Slytherin's last remaining member, the very last. What Mortimer could do… Think of it wife, he can finally restore our kind to glory. No longer would we have to hide from those filthy humans. We could rule over those weak pathetic fools who forced us into hiding."
Narcissa was surprised, the way he spoke in front of her, he made it seem as if he wanted to mold her nephew into starting a revolution. Did Lucius honestly expect Mortimer to be more than he expected? He was still a child trying to adjust. A twinge hurt came across her chest. Realising that her husbands thoughts seemed engrossed on her nephew more than his own son.
"You shouldn't focus so much of Mortimer." Her eyes found her son. He seemed so happy being around his cousin. "He isn't the only child we have to care for."
Lucius removes himself from his wife's embrace. He frowns almost. "How can I not? He's represents a line of ancient families. Draco? Draco knows his place, knows what we expect from him. I'm not worried about him, but for our nephew."
"It sounds to me you expect him to become something – Or should I say someone." Sounding worried, her eyes never leaves the boys who were currently attempting a backflip. Seconds later, the couple hear them howling in laughter when Draco fails, landing hard on his bottom.
He sighs, not seeming to understand her concerns. "Would that be such a bad thing?"
A silent pause, Narcissa had puzzled over his question. The easy answer is no. No it wouldn't.
But for some reason, she found herself disagreeing with her answer. A world where they don't have to hide or worry sounded heavenly to any witch or wizard. To get there, a massive task for one. Seeing how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named took it upon himself, had resulted in his own demise.
A small shudder of fear went down her spine. The thought of Mortimer hurting anyone or causing endless terror – Behaving ruthlessly like Bella, made her question her own morals.
While she supported in keep their world clean from the other side, Narcissa didn't think it was right to do so in a fashion that brought upon several deaths, especially from the blood traitors. Traitors they might be but they were still just as important as the other purebloods.
"No it would not. But do not compare him with his father." She said quietly. "Mortimer is different and should at least be given a choice."
"At least his father shared our values and ideas. He had the power and will to do so." Lucius walks further in the balcony, there, he places both hands on the well crafted marble rails, still staring. "It is unfortunate that he had perished at the hands of that dirty little half-blood Potter."
She barely restrained a strangled sound of her bewilderment. "He is my nephew, Lucius. I want him happy. Severus tells me he has not had an easy life."
"Of course he hasn't had it easy. He was raised by a muggle – What could they possibly know about raising a wizard?" There was a tone of disgust, nearly spitting for having to say the muggle.
"We can agree on that. However, we should at least be thankful they didn't hurt him. How lonely he must have felt. To think he had no family to care for him." There was some gladness in her heart that Mortimer was now living with them. "If only Bella could see him now. She would be proud."
Her husband frowns when Draco starts chasing Mortimer around the yard, not far from the gardens. "That is if she's hasn't already gone mad. Who knows how much Azkaban has changed her."
Though she had refused to think of her sister in such manner, Narcissa was aware how Bella could be. Even as children, there was something particularly wrong with the elder Black sister. Before Azkaban, she was fixated in the idea of keeping the entirety of pureblood stored.
The only way to accomplish that, in bella's mind, was to rid those who infected it. Narcissa had her beliefs but to go to such an extreme extent, she couldn't stomach the thought.
Her voice sounded reminiscent, almost sad, recalling the days when she hadn't thought her sister would be capable. "Let's not dwell on it. The important thing now is that he's here."
Lucius said nothing, only looking at his wife.
The gears in his head were turning, she could feel it. A serious look, she tells her husband. "I mean it Lucius. As long as Mortimer is here, I want no mentions of his father. What Bella was thinking… What she did," Shaking her head. "Can not be changed."
He says nothing again. This won't be the last time they discuss the subject. But for the children, he's willing to put it on hold. "Agreed."
Silently they watch the two boys chasing each other with exploding cards. Gazing up the grey skies, small white flakes begins to rain down, bringing in the winter weather and commencing preparations for the upcoming night.
"Mortimer, you have to stop fidgeting or I'll never get this vest on straight." She let's out a sigh, staring down the stubborn child. "I know it's a hard adjustment but you have to get use to wearing our attire."
"But it itches. It makes my body feel tight." Mortimer wiggles his body, ignoring his Aunt as she buttons his coat.
"It's only for the night." Leaning down, Narcissa fixes his hair. "Besides, we want to make a good impression now don't we?"
It was an important night for him, for everyone. Today, wizard and witches alike, would see her nephew. While not everyone knew, those Lucius had associated with did. It was all hush-hush among the circle. Only reason her husband hadn't told the world yet was because she forbid him from doing so. Out fear for her own nephew, she made sure to hide his father from those who questioned it.
Let them speculate. She thought. It was better to keep them guessing than finding out. No one will ever know as long as 'He' stays dead and Bella stays where she is.
"No Aunt Cissy." He concedes, letting her finish her work.
There was never a care when it came to his appearance. From the first time she's seen him, she could tell. The clothes he wore were nothing but atrociously hideous. How her nephew was able to roam the streets in a terrible fashion, she could not comprehend.
Either way, she's enjoyed having him here. Where she can see him, it eased her concerns to know he was safe. Even better, it made her happier to see Draco and Mortimer getting along.
When Mortimer arrived, he was very withdrawn. Quiet, he would only leave his room to eat and when he wasn't locked in his room, he could be seen in the family library, reading.
Since leaving the manner, mortimer has been coming out of his shell. Little by little, he had opened up to her more than anyone else, and that made her happy.
Mortimer nearly frighten her when she had been contacted by Draco's Godfather. Informed that her nephew was in a deep state of slumber, she had a right mind to take him there and then. Fortunately, he had woken up and wrote to her the next day. Detailing how he was simply tired – that he had been pull all-nighters just to outdistance the others.
A foolish move, she scolded him for being careless. No more, she told him. She would have grounded him had Draco not come to his rescue. It was delighting to see her boys faring well that she forgot she was upset.
Maybe letting him go to hogwarts wasn't a bad thing after all…
Narcissa steps away to admire her handy work. "Perfect. Proper robes for a proper wizard."
Mortimer doesn't comment but merely gives her an appreciative smile.
Narcissa notices his plastic expression, her eyebrows raising faintly. "Are you not happy?"
Mortimer represses from saying anything that could potentially hurt her, his eyes half closing before he stares up. "I am… But don't you think this is a little too much?"
He lifts his arms to reveal his burgundy coloured suit. The overcoat her wore stretched to his knees. He talks in a wispy voice, almost like the collar was choking him. "I understand impressions and all, but is my health worth it?"
Narcissa laughs shortly. "Oh come now, don't you think you're overplaying it just a bit? One night won't be the end for you."
"Right... I guess I'm nervous… that's all." Mortimer plays with his sweaty hands.
Narcissa drew back and watched her nephew carefully. In small sense, she was blatantly surprised considering her nephew's lack of emotion. Most days he barely showed an ounce, when he did, Mortimer skillfully hid it.
"Why?" Genuinely curious she asked.
It took him a couple of seconds to respond. He tries summing it up in a few words. "What if I embarrass you… Or upset Uncle Lucius?"
His Aunt tilts her head and then stares at her nephew. She doesn't say anything at first but slowly walks towards him.
She gets on his level, idly adjusting his dark collared shirt. It warmed her heart to see him worry over something so minor. Don't get her wrong, the last things she wants is to leave a bad impression. But fretting over Mortimer isn't one of her concerns truth be told. If there is any cause for concern, it would be her husband. Lucius loved to boast, to make other's aware that he was the superior one. With mortimer here, it seemed to boost his confidence.
Narcissa can only hope he doesn't go on and tell the wrong person. "Do you plan on embarrassing us?"
Too quickly, he panics. "No! I – "
"Then you have nothing to worry about." She brushes his hair back. "Regardless of what happens today, know that it won't change a thing. You're family, not an object. I vowed to care for you and I meant it."
Mortimer timidly spoke. "Alright…"
They both withdrew. Narcissa takes his small hand. Before walking, she cups his face using her other hand and strokes his cheek in a motherly way. "Everything will be fine."
They start making their way. Following the distant noises of people chatting, laughing – Muffled music played in front of their surroundings. Clanking of glasses and utensils being moved could be heard.
Reaching the tall hard white wooded doors, the knobs lift up, revealing a loud, lively and cheery party.
Noble witches and wizards gathered in one room. Malfoy Manor's own grand ballroom catered to a large crowd of only the purest and powerful of their kind. Unlike the other rooms in the home, the spacious arena carried tall pillars. Enchanted chandeliers made of gold gave emphasizes on the black marble floors. Covered by a roof made of marble, there were decorated carvings inserted that reminded some of a golden age era of wizardry.
The Malfoy ensign was masterly sown onto a tapestries that hanged proudly on its stonework while large mantle pieces settled in the corner.
Music played in the background, which was being preformed by the Malfoy servants, creating an atmospheric energy of happy-go-partygoers.
Lucius quickly spots several attendees. Most of which comprised of the sacred twenty-eight, those who still believed in old traditions – Those who still believed in the Dark Lord's work.
It was perfect. There was no need to hide, least not here. A room where everyone could agree about the scum that lingered in their society.
"Where's that nephew of yours Lucius." A voice appears behind his left.
He turns and smiles, feeling a surprising amount of boldness. No one has yet to spot him, aside from the children, the parents have only been told stories of the young Black child. The brilliant mind he carried, mortimer was rising in the ranks of his peers. Teacher's praised him for his efficient wand work. All the while becoming the envy of every prestigious child.
Yes… It wasn't Bellatrix they were here for, Lucius knew that, but for their once powerful master. "Ah – Carrow, glad to see you haven't lost your manners."
Amycus Carrow stood tall in front of the elder Malfoy, he scowls. "Spare me the greetings Malfoy. I came to see to the boy."
Before Lucius could get a word in, he was interrupted by a third voice.
"I too am curious to see what became of their little coupling…" Both men turn to face Nott senior, there was a sense of skepticism in his rough voice. "I heard the rumors but I didn't actually believe them."
Carrow faces him, folding his arms across his chest, nearly seethes in response. "You doubt his legitimacy?"
Nott senior, holding a chalice of wine, he swirls it a bit before replying. "I am merely suggesting. . . that our Lord would chose, out of all the women, a deranged psychotic witch?" His dark irises seeming sharp and filled with disbelief. "What is he thinking?"
Lucius pursed his lips. Nott had a point. Why would the dark lord pick as someone as mentally unstable as Bellatrix? She was beautiful, he can admit to that, but he wouldn't go as far as to procreation. To pair with her, you'd have to be crazy yourself. Then again, the older Lestrange brother said yes, so maybe she isn't the only one who's mental.
Amycus glared, uttering his name as platform to show his disdain. "Watch it Nott. Had he heard you questioning him, you'd be on the floor already."
The man returned the glare. Standing with a nerve, his tone was sour. "I am aware. But please – Lucius, explain to me how this even began. You'd think he'd let his followers aware of something as immense as this."
"Gentlemen please, we're here to enjoy the festivities, are we not?" Lucius pauses in thought. "I agree. Choosing Lestrange… is an interesting choice. Why he didn't see it fit to tell the rest of us? I can not answer. The fact still remains that my nephew is indeed his heir. My wife took him to gringotts over the summer for a blood test."
"And?" Amycus whispered over the loud noises that surrounded them.
Lucius smiled in that smug Malfoy way, it was second to nature. "And it came out as well as expected."
"Then that means… he truly is the last descendent of Salazar Slytherin!" The Carrow bother tried not to grin but couldn't help it.
"Exactly."
Drinking from his cup, Nott questioned something he was curious about. "If that's true, then I suppose this means he can speak parseltongue." The elder Nott insisted, he tapped on the chalice, puzzled. "To be related to Slytherin himself – we all know, they must speak the language of the serpent."
"I admit. I have not tested it out yet." Malfoy smirks, relaxing as he walks near a tray of drinks.
Grabbing two, he gives one to Carrow. "Though, I am fairly confident. He has already shown similar gifts that his father had carried. With more guidance, I believe he can bring us to a better future, one that our Lord had envisioned for us."
Raising their cup, they took a long drink.
Shame, the Lestrange, among others, were unable to witness history in the making. Even more sad, Bellatrix will never see what was left of her precious Lord.
Mortimer will grow to be fine a man. With the right tools, he will be something far more greater, better than his predecessor. His wife worried too much, her determination to delete and erase precious information that led to the very people that birthed him left Lucius at a loss. He can only tolerate so much, had agreed out of respect for her family, which unfortunately included Bellatrix Lestrange.
An impish grin, Lucius inclines his head. "Ah – Look no further men, I believe he's already arrived."
A young child was standing near the left hand corner of the ballroom. Appearing to be talking to Severus Snape, Lucius and the other men make their way towards them.
It was proved rather difficult considering the many women that joined had all gathered to get a glimpse of the young Black heir.
It took them nearly a minute to reach them. He sees the seriousness in Mortimer's face. The boy talks, however can not hear due to the booming music that played in the background. He looked rather concern, nearly angry, seeing his clenched fists. Severus appeared rather annoyed and shook his head.
". . . . I want to at least try – " His nephew stops talking once he sees the three men approaching him.
Lucius walks besides Severus. Mortimer becomes anxious, peering at Snape. "I hope we weren't interrupting anything important." Lucius looks down at his nephew. "You seem troubled nephew."
"N-No…" The boy says, barely hiding the obvious note of worried guilt in his voice.
Surely his friend wouldn't lie to him. "Severus? Care to explain?"
Both Nott and Carrow watch. They were listening but mostly basking in boys presence.
"As a matter of fact I will." Standing, he points an irritated finger at Mortimer. "Your nephew's persistence to teach him advance potions is causing me great hindrance. I suggest you take him before he ruins my mood further than he already has."
"As if that were possible Snape." Carrow scoffed, hardly believing his words.
Severus shot the wizard a glare that was interpreted to 'back off' but Amycus, the idiot, did not. "Honestly, I don't see why you agreed to teach when you yourself have little patience."
"If they didn't lack the brain cells to pay attention, maybe they'd learn a thing or two." Severus groused.
Lucius thought he was simply being ridiculous. "Come now my friend, I'm sure Mortimer meant no harm. A mind such as his requires the proper attention. Isn't that right nephew." Eyeing Mortimer, he sees him nodding his head.
"Good. Now I believe introductions need to be made." He watches as Severus leaves, he doesn't stop him. Knowing his friend was already familiar with the boy. "Mortimer I would like you to meet friends of mine."
Malfoy felt a sense of pride when he made the introductions. "This is Amycus Carrow." He motions his hand to his left. "And to my right, Nott Senior."
The two men were astonished, studying Mortimer as of he were an object made out of gold. Lucius could say he was proud. "I'm sure you're familiar with his son, Theodore."
A smile that was both polite and vexed, mortimer bows his head before speaking. "Yes. I know Theodore. Pleased to meet your acquaintances Sir Nott and Sir Carrow."
"No, the pleasure is all mine Heir Black." Amycus spoke with admiration. "I've heard many wonderful things."
The older Nott, greeted back. "My son speaks highly of you – Says you're the quite the talk in your house."
Lucius glimpses at Mortimer. There was a hint of a satisfaction.
"I'm sure Theodore is exaggerating." Mortimer shoos his hand. "As is everyone. I'm no more different than any of my peers."
The men laugh, their boosting noises made heads turn in their direction. Mortimer shudders, warding off any visible expressions, he endures.
Once their laughing ceased, Nott said. "I wonder, Where they've kept you all this time. I hear you've only learned of our culture not that long ago."
Playing with the rim of his cup, Lucius wondered was curious to hear his answer. Previously, he tried to acquire from Severus, only to then receive speculated guesses as he himself wasn't too sure. They became aware of his existence through that old fool Dumbledore. He asked the boy himself at one point. To his annoyance, Mortimer would always respond by saying 'around'.
Lucius lacked his wife's patience. She believed when the time is right, Mortimer will open up and share his questioning appearance. For now, he was left guessing.
"I've been around…" Mortimer looks away. "I'm glad to be here however. I find it very fascinating to be around those who share the same talents as I do."
"No need to be so humble." Carrow spoke, shaking his head, his chalice was magically refilled. "We're aware of your lineage and I must say, it comforts me to know that Salazar's fragments are no longer lost. They will live through you." Excitingly, he states.
Nott agreed with the sentiment, taking a sip of his drink. "I agree. Who better to lead our kind than the next kin of the very wizard who founded the very foundation of our magic." He turns his head, a gives a single nod. "You must be proud Lucius."
Malfoy doesn't notice the sadness in his nephew's eyes as he lowers them into the floor. Instead, he smiles coquettishly, accepting their praises. "Of course. He has a bright future ahead of him – don't be surprised to see hear his name as the years go by."
"Lucius." His name being called, he turns around to find his wife coolly walking towards them, she wasn't alone. "Might I steal my nephew? I'd like to introduce him to the lovely Mrs. Selwyn here."
"Oh my! You were right! He is every bit as handsome as you said." The women says abruptly. She walks pass Narcissa and the men, leaning down on Mortimer. Without hesitating, her pale fingers start pinching the boy's velvet cheeks. "How adorable… I have a right mind to eat you up!"
"Please don't. . ." Mortimer said in a guttural tone.
"Do refrain from embarrassing him." Narcissa chuckles a bit. Her husband stands besides her, looking at his nephew entirely covered in a flash of crimson.
Maybe she should take pity on the boy and rescue him. But at this point, every witch and wizards began lining up just to meet to him. Quickly turning into some kind of celebrity, one the families, Bulstrode, she believed, took a picture of him and her nephew and practically ran to tell the others.
No more than a minute has passed and was rapidly being bombarded with questions upon questions along the endless bound of requests that included dinners, gatherings and even marriage contracts.
Narcissa could see how Mortimer was quickly becoming uncomfortable with all this attention. You'd think that he was the-boy-who-lived, with the way they approached him. Some shook his hand escorted by their open mouths that were filled in wonderstruck marks. Wholeheartedly, it became too much, even for her that she had to push her way into the crowd.
Her husband was of no use at this moment. It was clear that he was enjoying the audience that has gathered around them. To know he caught their focus, he would soon have them eating out of the palm of his hands.
Pushing pass the many guests, Narcissa retrieves her nephew. "I apologize – But I believe my nephew has had enough excitement for one day."
There many disappointed voices in the room. They muttered in a disapproving manner, exposing their displeasure as some begin to walk away.
Others merely stared at her objection in the unfairness that the boy should be hidden from the world. It was ridiculous that someone as close as Salazar Slytherin should be kept concealed, instead of being celebrated like they were now.
It was slow, but progressively, they retrieve back to the function and go on their business.
Narcissa turns to her nephew. "Mortimer why don't you go dance with the Parkinson girl."
Mortimer his eyes widen at the suggestion. There was no way… He shakes his head in defiance.
"It wasn't a question." She commanded. "Now be good to your guests."
He frowns, pointing at the blonde. "Why not Draco?"
"We're celebrating you not your cousin." With gentle force, she pushes mortimer towards Pansy, who was standing near her mother.
You could practically hear the screeching in feet as he tries pushing back. "No no no no no –" He repeats while continues to jiggle his head. "You can't make me please!"
Out in the distance you could hear Theo and Draco laughing. Alongside Crabbe and Goyle, point and jeer whlist having their mouths stuffed with food. They joked as they see their friend. His attempting fail of retreating were most amusing for everyone watching.
"Mrs. Parkinson, would your daughter care to dance with my nephew? I believe he is too shy to ask." Flashing her smile, she firmly grasps mortimer's shoulder, keeping him in place.
He still tries to running when Pansy's eyes brighten at the opportunity. "Can I mother? Please please please - " Putting her hands on her mother arms, she shakes them hard.
Mrs. Parkinson couldn't have agreed more. "By all means." She faces him and said. "You treat her right heir Black." Winking at him, his face turns crimson.
He wasn't given the chance to reply. Before he could blink, pansy grabs his arm, dragging him out to the dance floor.
Against his will, he yells. "Nooooo!"
Where Pansy got the sudden strength to pull Mortimer, you could only guess. His other arm to reaches for any sort of assistance, a miracle perhaps.
There was none as his fate was sealed.
"I'm telling you Lucius – The only way to be sure is to do this one thing." Nott's constant persistence was wearing thin on Malfoy.
The idea Nott had conjured up was not only dangerous, but could potentially ruin and anger his wife. Well aware that she would be against this, lucius wanted to rub it in Nott's face when he realises he was wrong, that mortimer was indeed related to one of the founders.
Severus overheard the discussion, disagreeing, he advised that in doing so would only accomplish in distancing mortimer away from what is suppose to be his home.
It was like having an angel and devil sitting on his shoulder. Whispering in his ear as Malfoy tries to weigh in the pros and cons.
If this indeed works, everyone will know. There will be no more doubt about his linage, no more questioning. They will know that Malfoy is not one to trifle with – More respect for his family for having to raise the slytherin heir.
However, should this fail, not only will it upset Narcissa, but she will most likely kill him. For messing her night, embarrassing mortimer and hurting any potential business negotiations. Not only that, but Lucius will look like a complete idiot – A berk for flaunting his nephew around when he was no one special compared to the rest.
A heavy sigh, he came to the conclusion.
The devil had won.
"Alright nott." Lucius nods. Finding Mortimer, he was in the middle of floor. Dancing with the likes of Parkinson, mortimer appeared miserable.
His nephew had his head rolled up as he lets out an ugh noise. Lucius gives Nott the signal. "Be quick about it."
The grin Nott gave showed he was more than happy to oblige. Taking his wand out, he points it near where the children were dancing, he whispers. "Serpensortia."
Only but the volume of buzzing expanded the great hall of the manor, excitement over Mortimer's upbringing being discussed over dinner when trays of food was served.
As a Malfoy, Narcissa would go on to bow and smile for the remainder of the night, speak when needed to. Adding zest to the conversation, she strategically pronounced idle chatter that kept her guests engaged within the gathering. Her husband, Lucius, had been quiet for most of it.
In fact, she hasn't seen him all night. Strange…
Other than not being able to find her husband, Narcissa could say her holiday function had been a success.
Mortimer was still dancing, more like slouching and Draco was helping himself to the hors d'oeuvres.
Her nephew starts moaning loud. For someone well-behaved, he was certainly not behaving. A side, she can say, she's never seen before. She expected this from her son, but so far he's hidden himself away.
Maybe she should do something about…
Narcissa manages to walk a few paces before she hears the Parkinson girl shriek.
"A snake! There's a snake!" She screams, pushing herself near Mortimer who was equally terrified.
The celebration soon becomes a gathering of screaming women. It tuns chaotic as they start to run.
In frenzy, witches and wizards head towards different directions. Left, right, no one knows where one is going that they start bumping into each other.
The screaming voices and shrieks causes panic amongst the public. Crashing into each other, Sewlyn and Blustrode fell against the table that broke in half on impact.
A tray of drinks fell, making both the Carrow siblings slam against the floor.
Avery was knocked into an ice sculpture, shattering into pieces. It created a domino effect of wizards and witches, all toppling on the hard surface.
Corban Yaxley and his wife were both covered in food. His wife yells, screaming that her dress had been ruined and he only frowns, wiping away the mush that rested on his head.
"Please everyone calm down!" Narcissa was trying to calm the situation but bore fruitless. She was ignored and even shoved.
All the children were yelling that they start climbing up the chairs for shelter. Crabbe holding a plate of food was dropped, morally upset when Flint fell near him.
Mortimer was nowhere to be seen. What was left, a distraught pansy, she was paralysed on the floor. Faced with a snake that was ready snap, her eyes widens further.
It strikes.
Pansy shrills when it whips up showing its sharp fangs. "Help!"
In a flash, Mortimer comes from her right and kicks snake across the floor. Grabbing the girl, he runs outside, busting the doors open.
No one thought of going out the door that once they became aware of the option, they follow Mortimer's lead.
Everyone couldn't wait to get away. Parent's run to get their children. Leaving only a mess. A tornado has passed through the room, Narcissa watches helplessly as all her guests run straight out of the home. Some went through the floo and others went in different parts of the manor.
Her night had been ruined.
The only people left now were Lucius, Nott and Severus.
The snake was still on the floor. Hissing, it tried to defend itself.
Snape rolls his eyes and takes his own wand. "Idiots." He murmurs before repelling the creature. "Vipera Evanesca!"
The snake burns and hisses before disappearing in its entirety.
Narcissa looks at her husband. It was a look he never thought he would see. Nott notices the danger in her eyes that he take this as his cue to leave. "Right – Well, best I find theo. Goodnight." His rapid footsteps can be heard as he leaves.
Severus will soon follow. "Happy yule." He says, waving his hand away. There was no chance that he would be staying. Now that he knows Malfoy was a dead man, he had no interest in seeing his demise.
Nearly an hour of searching for the guests, narcissa said farewell to those who remained.
Until they were finally alone, Lucius ultimately decides to speak. "I will go check up on Mortimer."
Narcissa's deep blue eyes stared at her husband, close to being bitter. "You.Will.Not. You've done enough for one night."
She has chosen her weapon.
The silent treatment.
Lucius knew it would be a cold night for the following days.
Her heels start to clack down the large area, gown swishing as she strolled in the long hall way. Taking the stairs, it would guide her to the upper floors.
Light fixtures laminated her view. She passed a collection of her fine furniture that was used as a setting area for the children to better study in; nearby the Library.
Considering her somewhat rapid walking, Narcissa made it towards Mortimer's bedroom, nearest to Draco's. Standing in the hall, just outside his door, she knocks before entering his room, to then shutting it firmly.
"Mortimer?"
A silent sigh, she welcomed the relaxation when she saw her nephew fast asleep.
A large trunk set beside him was left opened, in it were piles upon piles of books. She kneels to pick the one that rested on the floor.
Guide to Advance Occlumency, By, Maxwell Bernett.
What in Merlin – What is he thinking? Does he not know the dangers of practicing such magic's? What motivated him to do such a thing? She will need to speak to Lucius about this…
Holding the book, it occurs to her that she hardly knows anything about her nephew. Aside from being an academic, there wasn't any other interests. Following his cousin around, Draco mostly dictated what they would do for the day. She never heard Mortimer debate him, simply complied with his demands.
Placing the book down, she puts it inside the trunk before closing it. Slowly she walks to his bed, it was the first time getting a real look of him. Without the façade of a good boy, she could the dark circles under his eyes. There were small scars on his thenar crease, surface of his palm. A hunch, they came from always clenching his hands. His hair was messy from constant tossing and turning. He looked so vulnerable, so at peace…
"Na…na…" Narcissa hears him say in an airy tone.
A sense of guilt hits her. Mortimer must sorely miss his muggle guardian. She despises that he had to grow in a savage environment. Narcissa never considered the fact that Mortimer was still adjusting to his new life style. That he might feel a little homesick, still probably mourning the woman that took care of him, loved him.
She was a Malfoy – and a Black. Jealously wouldn't become her.
It shouldn't matter now. This is his new home. Mortimer will move pass this, she assures herself.
Petting his hair back, Narcissa adjusts his blankets. Tucking him in, she gives him a peck on the head before leaving.
Biting her lip, her head turns back to the trunk. Debating within her own thoughts, she knows she shouldn't do this. But an important matter nonetheless, decides to take the book.
Mortimer is far too young, too inexperienced to even consider practicing it. Where did he manage to get a hold of one? Shaking her head, Narcissa leaves his room. She will discuss it with Lucius. There has to be an explanation for the sudden interest.
Don't get her wrong, she was still upset - Furious even. But narcissa needed to set aside her feelings and think about the children.
She sits on it. Determining the best course of action, Narcissa leaves it to rest for the remainder of the night.
The following morning, Narcissa and Lucius sat back in their lofty chairs, watching as the children opened their gifts.
The family had settled in one of the many living room's. It was smaller than the one used for entertaining crowds. This one in particular was meant for a small group. Nonetheless, it was beautifully decorated. The were at least four individual seats and two long resting couches, one of which the couple had decided to settle themselves in.
There was no need for candle lights as the fireplace, serenely burned the wooden fuel that completely warmed the room in delight. On the left side of the room was a rather large window that showed the abundance of snow that rained over the forest lands of the home, and there was a lot of it.
Draco and Mortimer were cosy in their dark coloured jammies, standing on the carpet pieces near the decorated tree in the corner. The boys were excited to see what this year bought them.
The generic amount of items you would expect came in descent packages. Things like sweaters, coats, shirts and trousers were one's that came to mind. Mortimer seemed satisfied with it all. You'd think he never wore a decent pair of pants. Draco, while polite, could easily tell that this was barely scratching the surface of what he expected.
After a while Draco nearly squealed in delight once he received what he's been asking for all summer long. To narcissa, it was simply a broom, but to her son it meant the world.
"Thank you Father! Mother!" Draco shouts, running towards them, he affectionately hugs his parents, it was short lived as he lets go and runs back. "Mortimer look! A Nimbus!"
Showing it off. Mortimer was happy for him. Draco asks. "What did you get?"
Holding the books, he flips them over, he lists. "Studies on Ancient Dynasties. Charm theory and a pair of cozy socks..."
" Bleurgh!" Draco sticks his tongue out, making a sound, repelled by the thought of more studying. They on vaction for crying out loud.
Watching closely, Mortimer sets his books down and rests on the floor. Before his aunt could ask, mortimer slips into his newly warm socks. "Thanks Aunt Cissy."
She returns his smile, far more surprised, putting her hands on her husband's arms she whispered. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"
Lucius could hear the worry in her voice. "Nott thinks Mortimer's lineage is nothing but a false tale – He doesn't doubt he's Black, but a Slytherin? Seems impossible considering his lack of interest for the flesh." Lucius thinks for a moment. "Everyone knows that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was parseltongue. Severus said that Dumbledore believes he is his son. There is only one way to find out…"
Narcissa says nothing, but here eyes were trained on her nephew, she fears for him. That was also not to mention the book she found. "And what about occlumency? I found mortimer reading it, doesn't that concern you?"
"It does. Where he's heard it is anyone's guess."
"But why?"
"I can only assume he wants to be like his mother." Leaning back, he relaxes. Narcissa, however, tenses up at the thought. "She taught you, did she not?"
"Ye-Yes…" Lowering her head. "But where could he possibly get a hold of one? You don't think it came from the library, do you?" Her voice small, anxious.
It was hardly normal for a boy his age to show this particular curiosity. Neither was it common for any wizard to come across a book too advance for a child. She couldn't pretend that this wasn't bothering her. Despite that, pretense and subtlety were her friends, one's that have kept her at bay. It was one that allowed to live through the troubled times.
Maybe that's why her nephew has taken it upon himself to learn. Remembering the previous day, Mortimer was having trouble sleeping. Plagued by unknown concerns, he wanted to dissolve it, or least, control it. It made sense.
She'd be lying if she didn't say that it didn't bother her just a little bit. Was she not good enough to know? To talk to? To confine with? Why resort to dangerous methods in order to help oneself? A puzzling situation…
"No. I admit there are subjects based on it. But there is little information, it would only cover the basics, not the practice." Leaning to his right, he stares out the window, Mortimer has certainly overcome his expectations.
"I will talk to him before he leaves." Lucius said. His wife only nods. Narcissa herself is unsure how to approach Mortimer with this.
Getting up from his relaxed state, Lucius moved his direction towards the boys. Ignoring them, he goes behind the tree. There was a wrapped box hidden. It was rather big, but still too short to be a broom, Draco thought. Mortimer tilted his head, still, stayed quiet; believing it another gift for his cousin.
Looking about, as the boys did, Narcissa was kind of iffy about the whole thing. Thinking that it shouldn't matter, nor should it be an issue.
One last cursory glance, Draco finally spoke up. "What's that father?"
Lucius gave his a son a look, telling him that it was a surprise. "A gift…for Mortimer."
The elder Malfoy could see that Mortimer was fairly surprised. He was curious, at the same time stoked. His son shared the same expression as they both waited in anticipation.
"What is it?" Draco spoke for Mortimer.
"A surprise." A sly smile appeared in his excited face as Lucius set the box in front of his nephew. "Open it."
Seconds later, Narcissa arose from her seat and walked near Lucius, the effect of the box had everyone intrigued and on edge. None of them could wait, except for the one person it was meant for.
Mortimer hesitated for a minute. Unsure what to do next, because it was out of the norm for him to get something so extravagant, there was a sense of doubt. Doubt that anything nice could belong to him.
"Go on mortimer… I want to see." Draco put his hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly. It stirs him from his hazy state.
On his knees, Mortimer lifts his arms. At a slow pace, tentatively, he lifts it open. The box containing what he thinks is some sort of fancy toy causes his heart to drop.
Mortimer screams.
Tossing the box away, he gets up and runs away.
Draco tilts his head and paces in the direction of the box. "Woah…"
Inside the box was a newly born king snake. Smooth dorsal scales, it was black-bodied with thin white bands that went all the way down its body.
The couple were speechless. The last thing they expected was to realise their nephew had a fear of snakes. "I should go after him." Narcissa somberly said.
Lucius, nor draco had moved. She ignores her husband and his sour expression.
Turning away, she rapidly left the living room, hoping Mortimer isn't too upset. Where he ran to, narcissa had to scan the rooms individually as she strolled down the isles of spaces.
It was suppose to be a happy occasion. Everyone was suppose to be in a cheery mood. She never thought her nephew would react this way. The irony of that was not lost to her. It would have been amusing if it weren't so sad to begin with.
Lucius had always believed that Mortimer was too mature to be afraid of anything, and would regard anything he'd come across, including the small creature. If she had known that this wasn't the case, she would have prevented it. Currently, she feels like a total dunce for letting lucius talk her into agreeing.
A hand came to touch her lips, acquiring her nerves, narcissa felt as she's ruined everything. Her blue eyes strayed over towards the library. The doors were open and immediately she goes there to find him.
Mortimer sat on the cold floor, sitting in between of a column of shelves. His arms covered his knees, face shielded.
Narcissa stiffened, watching his small body tense when he heard her approaching. "Mortimer…"
The low register of her voice made guilty by his terrified posture. "Mortimer please… I didn't know." She confesses.
He doesn't reply. Stuck in the same pose, he refuses to look up.
She stares at frightened boy she has come to care for and kneels across from him. A lapse of silence went over for various amount of minutes.
Patient of course, letting her nephew adjust to her presence. It gave both of them the time to collect their thoughts.
Almost, she could feel her nephew unwind. Though, avoid physical contact. "Are you alright?"
Mortimer nods slowly, his face still hidden underneath his arms.
"I apologize." An unpleasant sensation went up her spine, it was guilt that came too quickly.
Another moment of silence. Until he finally huffs. "Why?" He muffled.
"I'm not sure." She answers honestly. "Your uncle thought you might enjoy having a pet…"
And like a hermit crab, he remained in his shell.
She continues to say. "Had I known you had a fear, I wouldn't have agreed."
He lifts his head sharply, staring into her blue eyes, he blinks and questions. "Is it common for wizards to have snakes as pets?"
"No."
Mortimer frowns, there was anger. His voice had a note of let-down. "Then why did you think I would want one?"
Narcissa let's out a soft breath. "Again, I didn't know." She shakes her head in frustration. "You're a Slytherin are you not? Surely, your peers share the same interests of the house they were placed in."
They stare at each other. Deciding which one of them should speak. His small face scrunched up in confusion to find the realisation of their intentions.
Disappointed and hurt, narcissa could hear it as he spoke in a heartbroken tone. "You want to know if I'm a parseltongue… is that it?"
"Mortimer…"
Before she could another word in, the slytherin heir abruptly stands, causing the female Malfoy to fall back in surprise. Then, as unanticipatedly as he had thrown the box, the loud thumping of his footstep as he dashed out the library left her startled.
"Mortimer!" She cried out at his back. But he was gone, leaving her on the marble tile floor.
Both Malfoy males sat questioningly on the comfortable lounge chair. The small reptile creature wiggled around the floor. Lucius was rather irritated with the outcome, his chin resting on his knuckles. Draco was indifferent to the whole thing, mainly confused, not understanding.
Draco stares for a while and then proceeds to take a drink of his hot chocolate. His feet dangling from his resting place. "I don't get it…" he says.
Lucius said nothing but merely contemplated to himself.
The long period of silence that surrounded the room was brief and soon interrupted by Mortimer sudden reentrance.
Mortimer's aura screamed in anger. His hands were clenched, teeth gritting as another wave of emotion overtook him.
Draco gapes at Mortimer, indifferently – unblinking. The elder Malfoy stood up straight in an instant. "What is the mean – "
Mortimer ignores their looks and walks straight towards the withering critter.
Just then, the eerily inhuman sound of a sharp sibilant sound caught their attention, making Lucius stop in his tracks.
It was Mortimer.
The indescribable hissing noises became harsher and horrific. A shift in the room, the change was jarring, unsettling that it caused Draco to drop his cup, feeling a little sick.
Lucius observed as Mortimer began 'talking' to the snake.
Mortimer hisses again, his voice a chilling, sputter, near growl as he snaps his neck.
The sound of the snake's sizzling became louder, one could even sense its aggressive tone. They couldn't understand what Mortimer was saying, just the sounds he was making.
But there was no need to translate when his nephew suddenly pointed at him swiftly as he tells the snake; even Draco understood what that point meant.
Mortimer's finger was the arrow and Lucius was the target.
A long stretched 's' was dragged through mortimer's teeth.
The snake stops to only turn its body. En route for Lucius, the lampropeltis slithers quickly. Sizzling, its vertebra spine snaked out towards him, rattling in speed. It was non-venomous, but it still didn't take away the scare factor as neither Malfoy could idly handle an angry reptile.
Lucius nearly had a heart attack when it exposed it solid, conical teeth. Boy – was he glad he had bought this one and not the cobra that the shopkeeper kept insisting on.
Mortimer said something and the critter. Probably telling it to come back, considering that it retreated towards him. A second passes when mortimer picks it up, after, turning to the Malfoy's.
They found themselves face-to-face with a serpent speaker, parseltongue. And for a moment, they could only stare in mixed with shock and dismay at the little boy, who stared just as evenly back. Mortimer stood casually in front of them, his posture unmoving as the snake slides around his neck.
Every detail about him said Slytherin, it was perfect. It was just the way Lucius had envisioned him to be. Recalling what his former master was like. Mortimer kept staring, his dark eyes blank and expressionless as he offers no words.
Draco stays back in his chair, looking deeper into his face, he sees something unnatural. He tries to understand it all but is unable to. Nearly frightened to make a noise.
"Are you satisfied? Auntie? Uncle?" he suddenly asks.
Lucius turns to find his wife. She had covered her mouth with her hands, squeezing tightly as she tried blocking the negative thoughts, to no avail.
The noise was too haunting.
Devoid on any emotion, mortimer begins to move his feet.
When he finally leaves the room. The moment of silence stretches out considerably, it feels razor-thin and cold as a bucket of ice.
It was deep and terrifying. All that was left of this joyus holiday was a long hissing noise that left its mark in the room.