Chapter IV

Blunder

THE NOTE CURLED into itself as its edges caught on fire, the acid tang of burnt parchment drifting into my nose and out into the dormitory. I imagined Lydia or Adelaine might complain about the smell, but they were still at dinner.

Same place, same time.

Like I was an owl delivering him the newspaper. No chocolates. No flowers. Not even stopping me in the common room and telling me in person.

No, he sent me a fucking note.

After ditching me like a dirty handkerchief last time, I expected at least… something. The gall that he had—

My wand burned in my hand, its tip glowing like a dying ember. Itching to blaze, to consume. I relished the pain and tightened my grip until my knuckles turned white and my head thrummed like the great bell of Hogwarts.

"Are you okay, Narcissa? You look like someone's cast a constriction charm on your airways," said Rosalie from the bathroom doorway. "And what's that smell?"

I took a deep breath, massaging my temples as my grip slackened and wishing the pounding would go away.

"Sorry, Rosalie, it's just Malfoy being an absolute ass," I said through clenched teeth as I felt a stab of pain in my temples.

"That bad?"

"You have no idea. Any chance you got some pain relievers in that wonderful potion stock of yours?"

She gave me a sympathetic look as she started ruffling through her trunk. I sunk to my bed, propping my hands on my knees and letting my head drop.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud. I heard my heart race a quick staccato in my head, like a caged animal throwing itself against its cage again and again and again and—

I felt a cool hand on my shoulder as she pressed a small uncorked vial into my hand. It smelled faintly of peppermint.

I gulped it down in three quick swallows and fell back onto my bed like a starfish stuck on glass. The searing claws of pain slowly seeped away as I watched the water swirl above me.

"What's he done now?"

"He's sent me a note telling me where to be tomorrow. He doesn't even care. Whenever he asks, it's all smiles and courtesy but then he ditches me first thing he can to go do something with Avery and Lestrange. Then he ignores me for a month and now that Hogsmeade is here again, suddenly he remembers that he is supposed to be courting me and sends me a—"

I failed to find the words to describe just how fucking furious that piece of paper made me. Morgana help me, but I wished I could have burned his face off and watched as it dripped down his pretty boy robes like red, wet paint.

"And he just sent you a note," Rosalie finished dryly.

"Yeah, not everyone lucks out like you and Turpin," I said in resignation.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh don't be ridiculous, Rosalie, I am happy for you as long as he treats you well. Apparently, even that is too much to ask nowadays."

"Oh don't worry, Ethan is a perfect gentleman," Rosalie said in a tone that stood the hairs on the back of my neck.

"And Malfoy is a piece of scum. I swear, if he pulls something like this again, I will write to father about it. Or maybe I will hex him until he cannot stand straight. That parchment they concocted is worth nothing if Malfoy cannot do the actual courting."

"Hey, at least it's not a betrothal."

"Yet," I said as I tracked a large fish swimming above the dormitory.

"You know, you could always provoke him into doing something truly awful if you want to force your father to break it off," Rosalie said thoughtfully.

"Do you happen to have any poisons there too? Preferably the untraceable kind."

"Even if I did, I wouldn't just let you poison Malfoy, Narcissa. You'd just get us both into trouble."

"I hope that if it gets worse, you will find something though."

I looked up from where I was lying down to see Rosalie looking at me, a sad frown on her face.

"If it gets bad, let me know."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it. Like really, don't say a word."

Of course, you sly little snake. I winked at her and she brushed some imaginary dust off her robes before she snapped a little chest full of vials and bottles shut and put it away.

···

This time, there had been no nervous jittering and procrastination. I had already resigned myself to another dull lunch and not much else. Maybe if I was lucky, the girls would still be in the village by the time I got ditched and we could go do something fun together.

If Cara and Marlene even appeared. The other girls in the dormitory may have been fooled by the drawn curtains but I was having none of it. Marlene was just about the only reason Cara could be seen awake before eight and I had no doubt if she had spent the night here, she would be out already making her bed a right mess.

I hoped they had fun.

I found him waiting in the common room this time, caught up in a whispered conversation with Avery next to one of the tall windows that painted the room in its vibrant, flickering teal.

Apparently, he did not even have the patience to wait until after lunch, I thought as I scratched my nose in irritation.

Avery seemed to notice me, and he nudged Malfoy while nodding in my direction and all too soon I found myself with company.

"Good morning, Miss Black," he said as he kissed my knuckles. "You look as radiant as always."

"Good morning, Mr Malfoy. I had understood from your eloquent note that we would be meeting in the Entrance Hall." His eyes twitched a little.

He seemed to hesitate before offering me his hand. I took it, relishing my small victory as his fingers curled inwards at the contact, as if in pain.

The hours dragged on slower than paint dries. Thankfully, the weather was nice today and I took solace in listening to the birds chirp and watch the clouds cast wobbly shadows as we strolled through the main alleys of Hogsmeade. Malfoy seemed to be in a pensive mood, since even his conversation starters seemed half-hearted at best. It suited me just fine.

Lunch was a quiet affair at a small restaurant off the main road, with clinks of silverware on porcelain and half-hearted smiles. I had lost myself in thinking about my final project and was using my knife to engrave little runes into my mashed potatoes. Not very polite, I know, but then Malfoy had barely touched his food.

I startled as I heard him drop his knife and looked up to see him massaging his left forearm.

"Something the matter, Mr Malfoy?"

"Just cramps, Miss Black," he replied with gritted teeth.

I raised an eyebrow at him and went back to my meal, intent on salvaging what little scraps of enjoyment I could out of the lunch. At least the food was good.

"Thank you for your company, Miss Black. Would you want me to accompany you back to the castle?" he asked as gold coins rolled on the table a short while later.

Getting rid of me so soon again? We had barely finished lunch.

"Thank you for the offer, Mr Malfoy, but it will not be necessary. I think I will stay in the village a little longer."

"Then I shall take my leave."

He bowed, kissed my knuckles again and then he was gone, swallowed by the noon crowd of students.

···

"Stop moaning and let's get going, you don't wanna be stuck on the wrong side of Bellatrix."

The whispered words snapped me out of my thoughts like cold water. I looked around frantically, trying to find where they had come from. There were a few younger students of mostly Hufflepuff variety walking around the garden, but I doubted they would be talking about my sister.

"Bellatrix will be the least of our worries, Rabastan."

Was that Malfoy's voice? Was this where he squirrelled himself away?

I stepped behind a row of bushes with my wand in hand. When I was sure nobody saw me, I twirled it in a horizontal-eight sort of motion and watched as my body seeped into the colours of the background. I moved my hand and the colours blurred slightly. It was not the best disillusionment charm, but it should be sufficient. I slowly walked in the direction of the whispered voices.

"Least of yours, Lucius, at least your father managed to match you with the sister that's not sadistic."

I bit the inside of my cheek as I heard the laughter. I had to stop and take a deep breath as I felt my charm slipping to a blurry mess of greens.

"I thought you liked that about her, brother dear."

Fuck you, Lestrange. Fuck you and your jokes and oh just you wait until I get my hands on you. You'll be wishing it was Bella that got to you first by the time I'm done with you.

I turned a corner and saw them sitting on one of the benches in the corner of the park. The small stone statuette fountain felt oddly out of place next to the crude company. Five of them in all: Malfoy, the Lestrange brothers, Rowle, and Malcolm.

"Where the fuck is Thomas," Malfoy said in irritation. "I thought you were supposed to arrive together."

"Said he forgot something important and that he'd catch up soon."

I suddenly heard a twig snap behind me and stood rooted to the spot, my heart hammering a thousand times a second and hoping nobody would see me.

"About time, Thomas. Do you have the portkey from the Dark Lord?"

My mouth turned to dust. Harry's words echoed in my mind.

War, Miss Black. A dangerous war.

What in Morgana's twisted knickers was going on here? I looked as Avery pulled out a piece of rope from his robes, hitched his sleeve up and wrapped it around his forearm. Then they all took hold of it and were gone in a whirl of colour.

I sat down on the bench and watched the marble statue spurt water from its hands into the basin below. Falling. Falling. Falling. I felt my stomach twist as the implications hit. Malfoy was involved. Bella was involved. Oh Bella, what have you gotten yourself into? I was going to curse her so badly when I saw her next. And Malfoy with his silky fucking 'family business'.

···

"Come in!"

I only hesitated for a moment before I twisted the doorknob and swung the door inwards.

"Good evening, Narcissa, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Hello, Harry. I—" I stopped, trying to put all the whirring thoughts into some semblance of order. "I wanted to ask you about the war."

"The war? I'm not sure I'd call it that, just now. I assume something happened with Mr Malfoy?"

What what what? How did he even—

"You know about me and Malfoy?" I was quite sure I had not told him.

I saw his eyes widen slightly in surprise.

"You and Malfoy? No, not really. It was an educated guess," he said with a shrug. I frowned at him.

"Well, Harry, your educated guess," I said with sarcastic emphasis as I wrinkled my nose, "is correct. I saw him and a few other upper year Slytherins taking a portkey somewhere earlier today. They mentioned something about a Dark Lord."

"Ah, I see."

"Indeed. Now, I know you know things, so please instead of your educated guesses, can you just tell me what you know? They mentioned Bella, and I… I guess I'm worried about her."

He looked at me—through me, really—in surprise as I finished speaking. I did not even know where I was going with this. Did not know what I wanted from this conversation, or if I should have even come here.

Then he looked away and sighed as he deflated.

"I'm sorry, Narcissa. Please, take a seat. There's a lot to say."

I sat down in front of his desk and smoothed down my skirt as he went to pick up his snake. I watched as it coiled itself around his torso and neck, almost as if it was offering him comfort.

"His name is Tom Riddle. To the world, he is—or will be—Lord Voldemort. He's powerful, cunning, and extremely dangerous. It's actually somewhat funny, if you stop to think about it. Half-blood, but with so much presence and charisma that he has convinced several powerful Lords to support his cause. In a gist, he promises pureblood supremacy but the ideology, just like the Lords it swayed, are all but a tool for power."

"Let me guess, these Lords include the likes of Malfoy, Lestrange, and Avery?"

I saw him nod as he ran a finger down the head of his snake, petting it gently.

"But surely, they are not all so gullible? There has to be more to it, Harry," I said as I scratched my nose.

"You'd be surprised how little convincing people need when you're telling them what they want to hear," he said with a small smile, "but you're correct. There is more to it. Tell me, have you ever met a certain Mr Gaunt?"

"Older man, polite and charming, last Heir of Slytherin?" I said with a frown. I remembered him from the last Midsummer ball I had attended. "Is he another one of his supporters?"

"Of course. He is, after all, the same person."

In the silence, I could hear the faint ticking of his watch. A faint tk-tk-tk-tk that underlined the utter lack of noise.

"Him? He is the Dark Lord? But—"

"He's charming and charismatic? He looks like he would not hurt a fly? He's got that act down to a T. In 1943, Head Boy Tom Riddle, bastard Heir of Slytherin, opened the Chamber of Secrets and unleashed a basilisk, killing one Miss Myrtle Warren. He went ahead to then report the incident himself, implicating Rubeus Hagrid who got expelled for the murder. Riddle even got a nice shiny award for the deed."

"Myrtle? As in the ghost in the second-floor bathroom?"

"Yup. She died right by the entrance to the Chamber."

I stared and stared and stared. The yellow eyes of Harry's snake stared right back. I slowly moved my hand to rest over where I kept my wand.

"You know where the Chamber is?" I asked as lightly as I could. He nodded back with a grin. "You told me—you told me it was one of the most impressive rooms in the castle! You've been there!"

I saw his smile widen. Oh fucking fuck fuck shit fuck. I tightened my fingers around my wand as I felt the adrenaline hit my system properly. I sat in my chair, completely still, and waited until he looked away.

A moment passed and all I could feel was the slightly too-warm room and the little droplets of sweat on my back. Two pairs of eyes looked at me, one jet black, the other a dangerous yellow.

Tk-tk-tk-tk-tk his watch whirred away.

After a moment, he turned to look out the window as he ran a hand through his hair. At that instant, I stood and whipped my wand out at him in one fluid, practised movement. I could see his eyes widen as his head snapped back, but it was too late for him. He didn't have his wand and mine was pointed straight between his eyes.

"Narcissa, what—"

"Shut up." His mouth snapped shut as he looked at me warily. "You seem to know a great deal about someone that barely exists, Harry. I know your family is secretive, but don't you think it's a little bit odd that Aunt Dorea did not mention you a single time in all my life? Don't you think it's a little strange that you know so much about someone supposedly so powerful?"

I felt ice race through my veins as his eyes met mine. It seemed like I was the only one afraid in the room.

"Call it an educated guess, but it seems to me like there are too many coincidences. You told me you've seen the Chamber. You told me about a murder inside this school that nobody else knows about. Your snake is called Medusa for fuck's sake! Please give me a reason not to kill you right where you are, because I refuse to haunt this classroom for something you did."

My voice broke at the end, and my wand trembled where it pointed at him. But I was a Black, Morgana help me. I was not going to be lured into some stupid trap with pretty words and promises to be taught dangerous magic. I knew better. If he did something to Bella—

"Narcissa—"

"Expelliarmus!" I shouted more on instinct than anything else. I saw a wand flick from his sleeve with a clink and clatter against the opposite wall as it flew by my head. Potter—or whoever it was—lay sprawled on his back in what remained of his chair, pinning his writhing, hissing snake beneath him.

"Don't you Narcissa me! And control your snake because the next curse I fire will not leave you whole!"

I could feel the blood beating against my eardrums like a battering ram. I could barely breathe. I forced all the emotions down. They weren't helpful. My wand was glowing a sickly pink as I stared down at…

At someone that I thought I knew. Someone who had taught me so much in the last two months. Someone I…

He was still looking at me, not speaking, not moving. The world was spinning around me. I bit the inside of my cheek until I felt blood on my tongue and used the stinging pain to focus. I was a Black and I would make sure I was safe. That my family was safe.

I stunned the snake and threw out a body-bind as an afterthought. I watched as the black ropes coiled around him, then lowered my wand slightly. His wand was still somewhere in the room, but for now it was enough. I knew he was fast, but so was I.

"Explain yourself," I said and my voice cracked again. He looked almost amused by the situation. I hated him for his attitude and hated myself for how furious it made me. "I thought… I thought I could trust you."

The words left a bitter taste in my mouth. I had trusted father and he sold me out to Malfoy. I trusted Bella and she almost took my head off the last time we duelled. I trusted Ana and she ran away… I trusted Potter and—was it even him?

"That was very well done, Miss Black." I looked at him in shock. This? Is this what you tell me?

"Don't pretend you're my teacher. Don't pretend you're anything. I want to—" I squeezed my eyes shut to make the headache go away. "I want to know why."

"It's not what you think. I can explain."

Despite everything, I clung to the words like a lifeline. I wanted to believe him, despite everything. But how? How how how how! Morgana, I was a mess.

"How do I know I can trust you?" I said in a small voice. "You said it yourself, he is very good at talking."

I let the words hang between us, sharp and jagged and broken. I felt tears well up in the corners of my eyes and I pushed them down to the same part of me that I wasn't listening to that hid the little girl that was scared and screaming about what the fuck I was doing.

"In my desk, upper left drawer. There's a vial of veritaserum," he said softly.

I tried not to think too hard about why he had veritaserum in his office. It was too much to think about. I stepped around the desk, keeping my eyes on him sprawled on the floor. I felt along the wooden edge for a handle and fumbled to have it opened. I felt the cool clink of glass below my fingers. I flicked my eyes down and saw dozens of bottles of varying colours, all neatly arranged in a little holder.

"Which one?"

"Left row, first or second bottle, I think."

I took out a small vial with clear liquid inside and held it up to the light. It was the right sort of fuzzy, but then again so were dozens of other nearly translucent alcohols and solvents. It seemed like no matter what I did, I had to do a leap of faith somewhere. And I wasn't sure if I could jump.

Fuck it, I'd ask Rosalie afterwards, I'd… I'd stun Potter or something. I'd figure it out later. Fine. Whatever.

I vanished whatever he had in his cup at the side of the desk and filled the goblet with a small amount of water. Then I unstoppered the tiny vial and tipped three droplets into the water. The dropper helped, a little. I couldn't think about many substances that were needed in such small quantities.

I ignored the small voice in the back of my head that screamed about how utterly stupid I was as I handed him the cup.

"Is it okay if I tell you what I know and then drink this? I hate how it mucks up the thoughts and I'd rather be able to explain this mess while lucid."

"Sure." Fucking whatever. Considering what was going on... "But you better have a very good explanation because you've taught me several very nasty curses."

He closed his eyes and dropped his head back to the floor.

"On my right hand, I have a second wand holstered," he said softly. I stared at him. Was this a sign of trust or did he want to get me close to do… something? I nodded. It didn't matter, his eyes were still closed.

"Why didn't you use it?"

There was a small chuckle. "Because I don't want to hurt you, Narcissa." Slowly, deliberately, he flicked his hand and there was a second clatter of wood on the floor. A pale wand rolled away from his wrist where it was twisted at an awkward angle below the ropes.

I swallowed hard as I walked around him and nudged it away from him with my foot before picking it up. I felt the faintest of whispers as I picked it up, and ignored it. I went to the other side of the room and got his second, darker wand from where it had fallen in the corner. I tucked them both into my skirt before I turned to Potter and released his binds. Trust for trust, however brittle.

"Thank you," he said as he rolled his shoulders and went to pick up his snake. "I'll put Medusa on her rock and then we can talk.

"You know, I knew someone would figure something out eventually. I just didn't think you'd make connections so fast, or what they would be."

I just looked back at him, chin up and back straight.

"In hindsight, I can see why it'd look so bad. But you have my word that I never lied to you or your family, Narcissa."

I nodded. He sighed.

"You know, several people told me that there are similarities between me and Riddle. Too many for comfort. But that's beside the point. The gist of it is this: you didn't know about me because until two years ago, I didn't exist here. I was born a Potter in nineteen eighty. He murdered my parents before I was two. I spent my teenage years fighting him until I ended up here. That is why I know so much about him. And about a war that hasn't happened yet."

I blinked. He smiled, a little. A sad, brittle thing.

"I have told Dorea and Charlus the truth, just like I told your grandfather. Among other things, they ended up adopting me, since my parents aren't old enough for children of their own and Dorea was never able to give birth. They gave me a place to stay in France while I… adjusted."

"What about the Chamber?" I asked in a daze.

"That's… Complicated."

And didn't that sum up this whole fucking mess.

"I'll manage."

"You need to be a Parselmouth to open the Chamber. Riddle is one, and so am I. Dumbledore thought it was due to a botched ritual that Riddle did when he killed my parents, but I have since found things that make me believe I may have inherited it from my mum."

My brain seemed too slow to catch up, like it had run out of power and it was pure inertia carrying it forward. A thousand questions fought to be asked. My head hurt.

"Do you have any pain relievers in there?"

He laughed, then. A true laugh, unshackled by all other emotions.

"You know, Narcissa, out of all the things I expected you to ask, this isn't it."

"How did you even end up here?"

"Now isn't that the jackpot question," he said as he rooted through the still-opened drawer of vials and put a vial of teal liquid on the desk. "That story involves the Forbidden Forest, Riddle, and a blown-up time-turner."

"What's that?"

"Funny little thing that lets you travel a few hours back in time. Highly regulated and extremely dangerous. If you're feeling particularly frisky, I found it can also throw you back a few decades if someone makes it explode," he said ruefully.

"That does not sound very safe," I commented, more to break the silence than any desire to speak.

"My friend once told me that terrible things happen to wizards who meddle with time. Maybe I should've listened to her."

A friend that was probably not even born yet. I wanted to scream. His watch went on ticking as if nothing had happened. I tried to do the same; tried to swallow up everything he told me and not break down. I held my anger and disbelief and my cheek was still bleeding.

"It seems to me like a relatively effective way to time travel."

He rolled his eyes at me and waved his left hand. I watched as the pink seeped away until only a shiny metallic silhouette remained. It went halfway up his forearm where it met a mess of scar tissue.

"Effective but painful," he said. "It wasn't exactly intended."

I wanted to cry.

Instead, I pointed to the goblet. "Here's what is going to happen now. You are going to drink that, answer my questions, and then I am going to take the rest of the bottle to someone who can verify it is what you claim. And then I am going to go scream somewhere where nobody can hear me. I'll—"

I trailed off and swallowed the lump in my throat.

"I will be back. Tomorrow, or the day after. I think."

He smiled at me, then. "I understand. It's a lot to take in." And then he drank the water.

I watched as his smile slipped off, his pupils dilated, and his eyes lost focus. I considered what to ask. It was not like there was any point asking 'Hey, is this veritaserum?'

"What is your full name?"

"Harry James Potter," came the monotone reply.

"When were you born?"

"31st of July, 1980."

"Is everything you told me today true?"

"Yes, to the best of my knowledge."

I closed my eyes. I felt—I wanted to feel relief. But I mostly felt numb. Like the day had scrubbed me clean of emotion and I was looking at the world through a pane of glass.

And then I cursed myself when I remembered the time my grandfather told me about people who can fight the serum. I had asked him why there was so much hassle about trials if such a thing as a truth serum existed.

There are always several moves you can make, little Narcissa.

"Are you able to fight veritaserum?"

"I can, but I did not."

Morgana's tits and ass why could nothing about him be simple. Why why why why why.

"Why?"

"Because I like you, and it hurts that you do not trust me. It was the least I could do."

I felt the tears well up. I did not try to stop them. I snatched the two little potion vials from the desk and stood to leave.

"I'm sorry, Harry," I said as I turned to the door. I turned the doorknob and the door creaked a little. "I hope you'll forgive me," I added in a whisper.

Because I like you too.

I was halfway to the Room of Requirement before I realised I hadn't returned his wands.