Chapter 4- Jonquil ~ A Crown of Thorns
Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco sat in the formal parlor, each of them occupying a plush emerald armchair. Like most mansions owned by the pureblood elite, the majority of the rooms of Malfoy Manor were decorated in various shades of green, gold, silver, and black. Traditionally, these colors were signs of status among pureblood families, unless of course, they were blood traitors. Narcissa, however, had decorated her own private parlor in shades of pink and magenta, although the room had seen very little use since the Dark Lord had chosen to occupy their home.
Sitting in a fourth armchair, one that was upholstered in jade and black fabric, was the Malfoys' solicitor, a portly man named Oscar Burke. He was a distant cousin of the owner of Borgin and Burke's, and he usually represented the shop when it was being sued by customers or under investigation by the Ministry for harboring illicit goods. On this occasion though, Burke was visiting the Malfoys to discuss their legal strategy for their upcoming trials. Despite Burke's successful record though, Narcissa didn't think that even he could do much to reduce their charges or subsequent sentences. From the dour expression on Lucius' face, it seemed that her husband was of the same opinion.
"Regardless of what approach we take, I don't think it looks good for you," Burke frowned. "Treason is a very serious charge, as is harboring fugitives. I don't think your hefty donations will do much to mitigate any of this, Lucius."
Lucius leaned back in his chair, his hand resting on the abalone handle of his cane. "I've resigned myself to the fact that I will likely be returning to Azkaban," he sighed, shaking his head. "Narcissa, you should prepare yourself for that possibility as well."
Her heart sank. She knew that Lucius was correct; even if she argued that everything she had done over the past two years was under duress- which wasn't entirely untrue- there was no changing the fact that Narcissa could have chosen to report the murder plot against Dumbledore to the authorities or given the locations of the Dark Lord or Bellatrix to the Auror Office. But, she had consciously made the decision to do neither of those things. Narcissa had felt as if the Dark Lord had placed crowns of thorns on her and Lucius' heads, all but daring them to risk removing them without getting mangled.
Bella would tell me that none of this was my fault and that I shouldn't face any serious consequences for my husband's decisions, she thought to herself. Andromeda would tell me that I deserve whatever sentence I get.
She looked over at her son, who was quietly sitting in his armchair, staring at his feet. In the muted candlelight of the sconces on the wall, he looked paler and thinner than normal. Narcissa was extremely worried about him. It wasn't Draco's fault that the Dark Lord had used him to punish his father. He didn't deserve to have his life and mind ruined by Azkaban, but she doubted that the rest of the wizarding world would see it that way. She would spend a thousand years in prison if it could keep her only child far away from that place, and she knew that Lucius would too.
"What about Draco?" she asked softly.
Burke drummed his fingers on the side of his armchair. "I don't think it's very likely that you get sent to Azkaban, Draco," he said. "You were underage when you were marked, and the circumstances surrounding that largely have to do with your father. The current Wizengamot may be strict, but they aren't heartless. You're young, and while you will almost certainly have to make some form of reparations, I don't think that you'll be spending the rest of your life behind bars."
Draco didn't acknowledge him at all, preferring to study the subtle intricacies of the oriental carpet.
"A word of advice, son," Burke continued. "You'd do well to keep a low profile for the rest of your life. The events of the past two years are going to follow you forever."
Draco looked up at him, his expression sitting somewhere between regret and contempt. "I'm aware of that," he said, standing up. Giving a curt nod to the three of them, he slowly sauntered out of the room. Narcissa felt a solemn ache gnawing at her stomach; Draco was suffering, and there wasn't anything she could do to help, especially since he refused to confide anything in her anymore.
Once the echo of Draco's footsteps had dissipated, Lucius let out a sigh. "I'm sorry about my son," he said, nostrils flaring. "The transition since the battle has been… difficult… for all of us."
Burke nodded. "That's to be expected," he replied. "And truthfully, I don't really need much from him, strategy-wise. Or either of you, to be completely honest. I already have your statements, you've been investigated, your home has been searched… The only thing I could see making a difference is if you have any information on some of your former colleagues still at large."
Narcissa stiffened. She was very much hoping that her husband didn't know where any remaining Death Eaters were. She wanted that part of her life to be over forever- again.
Lucius' lip curled and he shifted in his chair. "As I've repeatedly told both you and the Auror Office, I've not the faintest idea where any of them are. And I don't want to know," he said.
"I know," Burke responded, narrowing his dark eyes on them. In the soft light coming through the window, Narcissa thought they looked somewhat like polished onyx. "I was merely pointing out the opportunity to you, just in case it applied."
Lucius waved his hand dismissively at the solicitor. "I think that's enough for today, Burke," he said. "We can discuss the rest of our legal troubles next week."
Burke exhaled sharply. It was clear that he wanted to continue discussing legal strategy, but he wasn't going to push back against Lucius. Not that he had any right to when the Malfoys were paying him an exorbitant amount of gold to represent them. While she knew that it would be in their best interest to let Burke do his job in the manner he thought best, Narcissa was grateful for Lucius ending the meeting. The raw emotions inside of her- fear, sadness, regret, and melancholy- were swirling around so much that she was starting to become nauseous.
"Next week, then," Burke agreed, rising from his chair and disapparating on the spot.
Lucius gave Narcissa a pensive look before standing himself and approaching her. "I need to draft a letter to the Auror Office," he said. "I promised that I would give them an accounting of the objects and gold in our Gringotts vault. They will be searching it next week."
Narcissa nodded. Lucius quickly leaned over and kissed her cheek before departing the room, leaving her to stew in her thoughts alone.
That night, Narcissa sat at her vanity in her bedroom of her personal rooms of Malfoy Manor to perform her nightly skincare routine before going to sleep.
She could evenly divide her married life into two parts- the parts of life when she spent the night in the master bedroom and the parts she spent in hers. Early in her marriage, she and Lucius slept in his room, happy, in love, and trying their hardest to produce an heir. However, as the years dragged on, there were no signs of any children at all, and all they had to show for it was Lucius falling deeper and deeper into the Dark Lord's inner circle.
Narcissa hated it. She agreed with his ideals, but despised his violent methods. She especially hated that Lucius was going along with whatever his master said, hardly thinking of how it affected her. He would come home late nearly every night, the stench of death and a miasma of dark magic clinging to him, causing Narcissa to feel suffocated in the presence of her very own husband. She loved him, but she couldn't stand being around his oppressive aura. Unless they were being intimate, she would reluctantly retire to her own room for the night, usually crying herself to sleep. She would wish that the war would be over, desperately hoping that once Lucius finally climbed out of the hole that was the life of a Death Eater, he would be the same person she'd married all those years ago.
When the war finally ended, Narcissa made it clear to her husband that she and their son had to be his priority. He owed them that much. Lucius agreed, and for a blissful fifteen years, Narcissa had her husband back, joining him every night in their marriage bed. Things were looking up for them, as well as for Draco.
But then he came back.
At first, it wasn't so bad; Lucius would meet with the Dark Lord occasionally, but there was no meaningful violence or any traces of dark magic. Although she was apprehensive, Narcissa almost convinced herself that this time, things would be different.
All that changed when Lucius was sent to Azkaban and the Dark Lord decided to make an example of Draco, giving him a suicide mission to kill Albus Dumbledore. It was worse than Narcissa's most terrifying nightmares of her sister writhing on the floor, and she retreated to her personal room each night, hoping its soft pinks and calming blues would ease her fears. Even after Lucius was freed from Azkaban, Narcissa usually slept here; at that point, the Dark Lord had taken up residence in Malfoy Manor, and her room was one of the only spaces she could find peace and security away from him and her older sister.
As Narcissa rubbed an Anti-Aging Salve into the wrinkles around her eyes, her gaze landed on an upturned picture frame. With a sigh, she righted it.
It was a photograph of her and her sisters playing on a beach in France. It was probably one of the only photographs of the three of them left in existence, as Father had removed nearly every picture of Andromeda in their home after she had been disowned. The constant reminders of her had been too painful for all of them. Narcissa had taken this picture out of her father's study when she realized the photographs were disappearing, hiding it in her room. If Father noticed, he never said anything.
Narcissa's eyes were drawn to photo-Bellatrix, who was smiling and spinning around, her ebony curls whipping about behind her. She couldn't have been more than ten, and the jovial and bright girl who occupied the picture frame was a far cry from the cruel and deranged monster she would later become. Photo-Andromeda was quietly reading in the corner, briefly looking up to smile at her. Photo-Narcissa was sitting next to her sisters, waving at Narcissa with a soft grin on her face.
As a child, Narcissa believed her older sisters were perfect. She wanted nothing more than to be like them- to be powerful like Bella and smart like Andie. And even though she was nothing like either of her sisters, they didn't care; they loved her unconditionally and were proud of her achievements, even when her make-up was slightly too bright for Mother's tastes, or her grades didn't live up to Father's expectations. They didn't care, and, perhaps naively, she'd taken their support for granted.
She lost Andromeda first. The two of them had been close as children, but once in their adolescence, they drifted further and further apart with each passing day. Narcissa grew increasingly frustrated with her sister's blunt and honest advice, no matter how useful it actually was. Andromeda was also clearly annoyed with Narcissa, constantly rolling her eyes when Narcissa expressed concern about how her goal to get a job after Hogwarts would impact how their peers would perceive her. After Andromeda was disowned, Narcissa tried to determine the precise point that their relationship had irreparably broken, but her efforts were in vain; searching for the exact moment someone became a blood traitor was impossible. She was attempting to find a needle of treachery in a haystack of betrayal.
After that, she'd clung to Bella, who, while not the best role model for a young adult, listened to Cissy and supported her in everything, only giving advice when explicitly asked. While Bellatrix was terrifying and cruel to those who opposed her, she was never any of those things to the people she cared for, the exception being what she did to Andromeda- although Narcissa tried her best to bury that day in her mind. To Narcissa, Bella was caring, optimistic, and protective- the best big sister she could ask for. The day she was arrested and sent to Azkaban was one of the worst of Narcissa's life, and just like the day Narcissa took Andromeda to Tonks, it left a hole in her heart that never fully healed. She didn't know how to live her life without an older sister looking out for her.
The Bella that returned from Azkaban was not the same woman that had been sent there. She was paranoid, overly vengeful, and barely coherent most of the time. She was obsessed with the Dark Lord and furthering his ascent to power, refusing to talk about anything else. The way she spoke about hurting other people horrified Narcissa, and on the Christmas after she was freed from Azkaban, she suggested using the Cruciatus Curse on Draco as motivation to get him to kill Dumbledore more quickly. There were echoes of Bella's past self that sometimes surfaced, moments when she and Narcissa would talk like they had more than a decade ago, but they were few and far between, often giving Narcissa the false hope that her sister's sanity had returned. Although she was ashamed to admit it, Bella's death gave Narcissa great relief; Bella hadn't truly lived for fourteen years, and now she could finally be at peace.
But even though one of her older sisters was dead, she had been given an opportunity to reconcile with the other.
A knock on her door interrupted her musings.
"Come in," she said, corking her tiny bottle of Anti-Aging Salve and placing it back on her vanity. She turned to face whomever was at her door.
Lucius entered the room, dressed in a white sleeping gown. His long blond hair was neatly held back with a green hair tie, and in the soft light of the candles, he looked beautiful and bright, almost like he was in his twenties again.
"You're still awake," he said softly. "It's nearly midnight. I thought you might be asleep already."
"No," she replied. "But once I finish here, I'll be off to bed. Did you only just finish the accounting?"
"Yes," he groaned, gingerly walking over to her bed and sitting on it. "There's nearly five hundred years' worth of objects in there. Cataloguing them is tedious. And while I was in the middle of it, I received some correspondence from the Minister that I think you should be aware of. It was addressed to you, but I mistakenly thought it was for me, so I opened it."
Narcissa was confused. "Why would Minister Shacklebolt be writing to me? What does it say?"
"Since Rodolphus is currently in custody, he has named his mother Eloise as executrix of Bellatrix's estate. Given the nature of some of the items found within the Lestrange vault, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is overseeing her estate's affairs. The Minister wanted to know if you planned to contest Madam Lestrange's appointment, as you and Draco are technically Bella's only legal blood family, not her."
"I… see," she breathed. This whole situation made her head spin. Narcissa twirled a lock of her hair around her finger. It was so odd thinking about Bella as being dead. For so long, she'd been absent, but that wasn't the same as being gone forever. Narcissa didn't know if she even had the mental fortitude to go through her eldest sister's possessions.
A cold feeling settled in her gut when she realized that with Bella's death, she was now the head of what remained of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Narcissa wasn't good at heady matters like estates or business; that had always been Andromeda's domain, and she was ill-equipped to handle itemizing and cataloguing the entirety of her family's assets, sans whatever her blasted cousin had left to the Potter boy.
And she had absolutely no desire to ever set foot in the foyer of her childhood home ever again. Not when she could still hear Andromeda screaming as her blood flowed-
"I took the liberty of declining on your behalf," Lucius continued, jerking Narcissa out of her memories. "Given our own situation, I think it's best we leave Bella's affairs in the hands of Madam Lestrange. We should be distancing ourselves from her if we can. Sadly, a lingering association with Bellatrix will only hurt us and Draco in the long run."
She could hardly disagree with his logic. "Yes, of course," she murmured.
"Oh, also, you wouldn't happen to know what happened to Rabastan's wand, would you?" he asked. "It's apparently missing. The Ministry hasn't been able to find it anywhere."
She shook her head. "No," she said. "I don't even know what wand he was using for the past few months. Whatever it was, it wasn't the one he had at Hogwarts. I presume that wand was snapped when he went to Azkaban?"
Lucius shrugged. "I honestly have no idea," he murmured.
He peered behind her, his eyes widening when he caught sight of the upright photograph. "I haven't seen a photograph of the three of you in a long time," he gently remarked. "I assumed they were all gone. How is Andromeda? You've visited her a few times now, right?"
Narcissa slammed the photograph down again. She couldn't look at her sisters' innocent faces anymore. Those girls lived in a fantasy world that never could have existed.
"Andromeda is…" she stammered, unable to find words that could adequately describe the bitter enigma that was her sister. "I don't know who she is anymore, Lucius. I'm not sure I ever did."
"Of course you did," he said, moving behind her chair and placing his hand on her shoulder. "You were her sister. I remember how close you two used to be."
She let out a cold laugh. "Were we?" she asked. "Andromeda lives in a Muggle house and uses Muggle devices to talk to her Muggle-in-laws about Muggle things. When she's not crying all the time, she bakes and knits and gardens. That isn't the sister I grew up with. The only resemblance to my Andie is that her house is full of books, she's frustratingly quick-witted with that tongue of hers, and she hardly does anything to tidy her hair. I don't understand this version of Andromeda, and she refuses to open herself up to me. She clearly doesn't trust me and has yet to let me meet her grandson, one of the only family members I have left. Merlin, she hasn't even asked about you or Draco! She willingly engages in activities that are far beneath someone of her birth, and if I even give her the vaguest negative expression or gently remind her about etiquette, she lashes out at me."
Narcissa knew that she wasn't being fair to Andromeda, who had lost so much in the past couple of months. She knew she should be kinder and less judgmental, but to do so was to fight against her own nature. Narcissa wanted to accept Andromeda for who she was, and she wanted her only remaining sister to once again be there and comfort her when she needed it. But it was so hard, especially when Narcissa's whole world had been turned upside-down too. The things her heart wanted were at odds with her mind, as if magic itself refused to allow her common sense to give in to its desires.
Lucius gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "It's been a long time," he murmured. "The two of you aren't going to be the exact same people you were twenty-five years ago. She'll come around eventually, Cissy, but you have to give her time. There's a reason why people traditionally take a year of mourning- they have a lot they need to process before moving on. And she didn't just lose her husband. She lost her daughter and her son-in-law too. But Andie's always been strong, she'll get through it. You will too, and eventually, you two will be closer than ever. It'll be like no time has passed at all."
She reached up and ran her thumb against the back of her husband's hand. Although she wanted to believe him, she couldn't.
"She's so broken, Lucius," Narcissa said, tears falling down her cheeks. "I'm broken too."
He leaned over and wrapped his arms around the chair, and by extension, her. "Maybe," he qualified. "But that doesn't change how much I love you, Narcissa."
Silence fell between them, and Narcissa focused on the feeling of Lucius' arms around her as she tried to regain her composure.
"Will you come to bed with me?" Lucius asked after several moments, his tone longing and almost desperate. "Please, Cissy?"
Narcissa smiled. "Yes," she said. "Gladly."
When Narcissa awoke, Lucius' side of the bed was empty. He had left a note on his pillow explaining that he'd received an owl early that morning from Gringotts with some urgent inquiries regarding the accounting. Lucius would likely be there for most of the day handling matters pertaining to their assets.
The morning was dreary, and Narcissa spent most of it in the sitting room perusing the latest issue of Witch Weekly. One of the articles was on this summer's trendiest travel destinations, and the picturesque landscapes of the French Riviera and Croatia only brought her pain; if convicted and sent to Azkaban, she, Lucius, and Draco would likely never be allowed to travel outside the British Isles again.
Draco had opted to join her in the sitting room. As usual, he was silent, but strangely, he was reading what appeared to be a novel. Narcissa glanced at the title, Cornelius and Gwenllian Change the World!, but didn't recognize it. Wherever Draco had obtained this book, it wasn't from her or Lucius. She hadn't even known that Draco liked to read; Narcissa had never seen him open a book outside of doing his schoolwork or summer homework.
She had just begun reading an article about the latest Parisian fashion trends when she was interrupted by the crack of one of the house-elves appearing.
"Mistress Narcissa!" the elf squeaked. "Miss Greengrass is waiting for the young Master in the foyer!"
She sighed and placed her magazine on the table. "Thank you, Jassy," Narcissa grumbled. She didn't bother to ask which Miss Greengrass was calling on them. There was only one that ever did anymore.
"Come, Draco," she continued. "Let us see if we can't persuade her to leave."
Wordlessly, Draco followed her out into the foyer, book still in hand.
Astoria Greengrass was standing in the foyer, a bright smile on her pale face. Narcissa couldn't help but crinkle her nose at the sight of her; numerous strands of her wavy brown hair had escaped her ponytail, there was a smudge of dirt on her cheek, she was wearing a dragonhide boot on her right foot and a leather walking shoe on her left, and even though classes had been cancelled for the rest of the year, for some reason, she was wearing her Hogwarts robes. The vibrant green House crest adorning the front of her robes was almost the same color as her eyes. How this mess of a girl had managed to get sorted into Slytherin was beyond Narcissa's comprehension.
"Astoria," she greeted curtly. "To what do we owe this… pleasure?"
The girl smiled even wider. "Oh, I'm just here to check in on Draco!" she replied. "You know, just to see how he's doing!"
Narcissa glanced at her son. The remaining color in his face had vanished completely and he was clutching his book tightly. Astoria Greengrass' little crush on Draco had stopped being cute long ago. It was now an obnoxious inconvenience.
"Well, as you can see, Draco is fine," Narcissa said calmly. "Right, Draco?"
"Er, y-yes," he stammered, a strange look on his face.
Astoria's eyes grew wide. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "You're reading the book! It's great, isn't it? I told you you'd like it! By the way, I was at Hogwarts today to collect the rest of my medications from Madam Pomfrey, and I think I met the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor for next year! He seems so cool! The castle's still a total mess though. And Professor Slughorn told me to say hello to you, as well as to wish you good luck at the trial! Also, were O.W.L.s hard? Father arranged for me to take them at the Ministry this summer since they cancelled them for us this year and I really don't want to have to do two years of exams in a row and-"
"Astoria," Narcissa cut in, glaring at her. Behind her, Draco gulped loudly. "You need to leave. We are very busy right now."
"But-"
"Draco, leave us for a moment," she added. Her son complied without complaint, but his eyes lingered on Astoria for a moment longer than Narcissa would have liked.
Narcissa took a deep breath. "You need to stop coming over here," she barked, causing Astoria to jump. "I will write to your father to tell him you are no longer welcome at Malfoy Manor. You are bothering us during a very trying time, and I can tell you that Draco does not appreciate it. You are not to talk to him anymore. You realize that associating with our family will affect yours too, Astoria? You may not care about that- and given your immature attitude and certainty of an early death, I'm sure you don't- but you'd do well to think about how your actions are affecting Daphne's reputation. Don't be so selfish."
Instead of profusely apologizing for her improper behavior, Astoria just stared at her, a mischievous glint in her eyes and the barest hint of a smile crossing her face, as if she knew something Narcissa didn't.
"Very well then," she said. "I will no longer call on Draco at Malfoy Manor. If Jassy would escort me to the Floo, I'll be off."
"Jassy!" Narcissa called, causing the house-elf to appear before them. "Please see Astoria out."
The elf nodded as she curtsied as she nodded. "Yes, Mistress!"
Narcissa returned to the sitting room, uneasiness suddenly causing her to feel panicked.
That girl was nothing but trouble.
"And so, as you can see, I suspect that the younger Greengrass girl will continue to cause more problems for us in the future," Narcissa explained to her sister.
She was once again in Andromeda's kitchen, but this time, she'd owled a couple days prior to apologize for upsetting her sister on her late-husband's birthday. Andromeda had graciously accepted and extended her an invitation to visit, although that was almost certainly because it was the expected courtesy. Narcissa truly doubted that Andromeda actually wanted her in her home, and unsurprisingly, her grandson was once again nowhere to be found. Ignoring the hurt she felt by her older sister's distrust, Narcissa decided to take Lucius' words to heart and discover who her sister had become, which couldn't happen unless they spent time together.
Andromeda stared at Narcissa with a familiar expression of blunt disapproval that sat between a smirk and a scowl. It screamed You've messed up and it's so obvious as to how, and was one of Andromeda's signature looks- one that Narcissa hadn't missed in their years apart. She might not have been overtly rude, but Andromeda's quiet condescension at her little sister's perceived mistakes had frustrated Narcissa to no end when she was a teenager.
"You don't agree with anything I've just said," Narcissa guessed, her lip curling.
Andromeda summoned her tea kettle from the stove along some jonquil patterned teacups from the cabinet. "I think you are being needlessly cruel to a teenage girl," she replied, pouring them each a cup of tea. "Draco should be allowed to choose his own friends without your input."
"Astoria Greengrass is not a 'friend,'" Narcissa retorted. "She's an ill-mannered girl whose parents haven't disciplined her at all because she was unfortunate to be born with a blood curse. Not the sort of person Draco should be friends with."
Her sister glared at her, her brown eyes cold. "Are you kidding me?" she scoffed. "Have you learned nothing in the past two decades? Didn't you just lose another war over outdated and prejudicial beliefs like this? Purebloods are not the arbiters of who is deserving of respect in our society, Narcissa! And treating those who you personally perceive to be defective as lesser is exactly how you ended up in your current situation!"
As expected, Andromeda was refusing to see the bigger picture. Astoria's eventual death would only crush Draco if he grew close to her, and she would likely never be able to give her future husband children.
"Andromeda, it's not just her behavior," she continued. "Astoria Greengrass isn't going to live very long life. Like I said, she has a blood curse-"
"Your arrogance is appalling," Andromeda snarled, vanishing the remnants of both her and Narcissa's tea, not that either of them had drunk much of it in such a short time. "How could you act like this? This poor girl is terminally ill, and the only things you seem to notice about her are her faults! It's disgusting. You, an adult, are bullying a literal child. You're better than this, Narcissa. We may be nearly strangers, but I know that much at least."
Deep down, Narcissa knew that her older sister was right; she was being catty and mean to a girl she didn't like, just like she'd done when she was a teenager. But at the same time, the trajectory of her son's life depended on the relationships he managed to foster in the next few years. Draco might find Astoria pleasant to be around, but her presence in his life was going to unfortunately be fleeting. In forty years, she would be dead and unable to any return favors she owed. Narcissa understood Andromeda's point of view, but she wished her sister would try and reciprocate.
"Andromeda, I'm trying very hard to adjust my expectations and my worldview after everything that's happened," she sighed. "It's hard for me and will take time. But you need to put in the effort to look at things from my point of view. I am trying to meet you in the middle when we disagree on things. Can't you do the same?"
Andromeda crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I don't have to," she said coldly, her mud colored eyes as icy as her tone. "You're the one who wanted to reconcile with me. Not the other way around."
Narcissa reluctantly had to admit that Andromeda was correct. Andromeda was on the correct side of history; she hadn't spent decades of her life supporting people who wanted mudbloods eradicated. Narcissa had, and thus, she didn't get to set the rules regarding what was acceptable conduct in their relationship. It was a social dynamic that Narcissa was unused to, and she didn't like it at all.
Her heart sank. Lucius was right; reconciliation with her jaded and closed off older sister was going to take a lot of time and patience.
The first time that Narcissa saw Andromeda after the latter was disowned was about a month and a half later, in Flourish and Blotts.
Narcissa had been at the bookstore to pick up a pamphlet on the latest wedding trends on the continent when she spied Andromeda standing in the middle of one of the aisles. Quickly Disillusioning herself, she slowly walked down the aisle toward her sister, not entirely sure why she was even bothering to approach her.
Andromeda was reading some sort of mystery novel, so engrossed by the words on its pages that she was undoubtedly ossified to the spot. Narcissa was tempted to cancel her spell and call out to her sister. She might have been a disgrace, but Cissy missed her. She was admittedly curious as to what her life was like now. Was she happy? Did she regret her marriage?
As she turned the page of her book, Narcissa caught sight of the rings on Andromeda's left hand. One was a simple gold wedding band, and the other was a more elaborate ring with vine motifs and a pale blue stone in the center. Narcissa assumed it had to be an engagement ring, but that hardly made sense given that Andromeda's betrothal period could only have lasted the meager number of hours from the evening Cissy dumped her at Tonks' flat to the following morning. Perhaps it was simply just for show, to pretend like she and Tonks had had a normal courting and engagement. Regardless, the rings on her hand were foreign and strange, and caused the hair on the back of Narcissa's neck to prickle. Andromeda made no attempt to hide her distaste for wearing jewelry, and the fact that she was now doing so of her own accord made Cissy feel like the person in front of her wasn't her sister at all.
Jewelry aside, Andromeda appeared to be mostly normal and well. To other people, she probably seemed no different than before, but Narcissa could tell that something was off about her. Andromeda's face was slightly rounder than when Narcissa had last seen her, and her blue silk robes sat more tightly against her midriff. There was a sheen to her sister's hair as well, and her skin was clear and bright.
She really was pregnant.
At the other end of the aisle, Narcissa saw Tonks meandering toward them, his hands shoved in his pockets and a grin on his face. Cissy stood firm, curious to see how he would manage to accomplish the herculean task of dragging Andromeda out of the store. Narcissa almost felt sorry for him; she had always dreaded physically pulling her sister away from whatever book held her spellbound, causing a scene as they left bookstores.
Tonks gently placed his hand on Andromeda's shoulder, but predictably, she didn't respond.
"How's the book?" he asked, his grin growing wider.
Shockingly, Andromeda shut the book and placed it back on the shelf. If her eyes hadn't been focused and alert, Narcissa would have thought that Tonks had placed her sister under the Imperius Curse to get her to put the book away.
"It's good," Andromeda replied.
"You want to get it?"
"I don't think so. I'm not sold on the protagonist."
The two of them smiled at each other for a long moment. Narcissa couldn't understand it; how could either of them make the other happy? They were so different from each other.
Narcissa followed the couple out of Flourish and Blotts, hugging the sides of walls and darting through spaces in between the busy Diagon Alley crowd so that no one would bump into her mostly invisible body. Tonks was tall enough where Narcissa was unable to lose sight of him, and since he and Andromeda were holding hands, they were walking slower than normal.
They entered a furniture store near Gringotts. After waiting a couple of minutes as to not draw suspicion, Narcissa briefly cancelled her Disillusionment to enter the shop herself, recasting the spell once she was inside and had ambivalently greeted the disinterested cashier by the door.
She found Andromeda and Tonks near the back of the shop, where they were thoroughly examining a Georgian-style wooden set of baby furniture with intricately carved floral designs around the edges. The placard next to the furniture stated that the set included a Self-Cleaning changing table, crib, and bureau. Narcissa felt a pang of sadness in her heart; Andromeda was starting a new family, one that Narcissa would never have a place in.
She watched as over the next half an hour, Tonks and her sister thoroughly browsed different furniture sets, pulling out drawers and thoroughly examining the construction of the pieces.
"What do you think of this one? I like it a lot," Tonks said once they had looked at all of the sets on display. He pointed to the Georgian-style set. Narcissa reluctantly had to admit that Tonks had great taste in furnishings.
Andromeda shook her head. "I'm not a fan of the jonquil motif," she replied. "It's pretty, but I don't think the set's all that practical. I think this one is better."
She gestured to a different set next to her. It was an ugly modern minimalist set made of pale rosewood. In Narcissa's opinion, it was dull and garish and not suitable for any room, much less a nursery.
"Really?" Tonks asked her. "Why?"
"The bureau has an extra drawer we can put things in," she explained, bending down to pull out its bottom drawer. "And even though the changing table doesn't have as much nappy storage as the other one, it has that built in Perfume Charm that's safe for babies. You know, the one that Molly and Arthur were raving about. But if you don't like this one, we'll get something else."
"Nah, it's fine," he said. "You're probably right about the extra space and that charm, Dromeda. I don't think I'll care too much about how pretty the set looks when it's two in the morning and the baby is screaming to be changed. Now that I think about it, I'll probably appreciate that Perfume Charm getting rid of the smell of dirty nappies too. That pale color of the wood is going to completely clash with the nursery though. Not to mention I really hate the look of it."
"Then let's get a different-"
"Tell you what," Tonks interrupted, taking Andromeda's hand. "Let's get it, and later this week I'll stop by a hardware store and pick up some wood stain. That way we can have the more functional set, and it won't be as awful looking."
Andromeda nodded and Tonks flagged down a sales associate to buy the ugly minimalist set.
Narcissa turned away, breaking her Disillusionment once more as she left the store. Twisting her large diamond engagement ring around her finger, melancholy filled her chest as she left Andromeda behind.
Not only did she want her sister back, but she was jealous of her relationship. The way that Tonks and Andromeda had compromised over that furniture was something that would likely never happen in Narcissa's life. If she and Lucius disagreed on a large purchase or had differing opinions on how to do something, as head of the house, Lucius would have the final say. Of course, he would politely ask Narcissa for her input, but he would cordially insist on his preference. There would be the illusion of compromise, but Narcissa would never have her choice if it didn't align with her future husband's.
Perhaps this was yet another reason why Andromeda had no qualms leaving them all behind.
I stepped out of the fireplace of the Burrow, a plated piece of Ted's birthday cake in hand. I Immediately regretted my decision to visit; the complex etiquette of calling on people and inviting them over was something that I never truly mastered, nor did I care for it. Regardless, Molly had visited me last month, so it was my turn to see her.
And I also owed her an apology.
Molly was sitting in her living room, numerous documents from a funeral parlor spread out on her coffee table. My stomach churned; even from a distance, I could tell what they were, as the same blank papers were sitting atop the desk in my study, collecting dust. Across from Molly sat Laura Rosier, who was using a red-inked quill to mark up a map of what looked to be Eastern Europe. Other maps were spread out on the couch next to her.
"Excuse me," I said, stepping forward. "I hope I'm not intruding. I probably should have owled before coming."
Molly looked up, the sad expression on her face softening into a smile. "Of course you aren't intruding, Andromeda," she said. "Did you need something?"
I placed the plate of cake on a small space of the table where no papers were. "I came to apologize to you," I replied. "You visited me last month and I was horribly rude and didn't acknowledge you much. I'm sorry for that."
"No, I should be the one to apologize to you," Molly sighed, shaking her head. "I should never have made those comments about that quilt. It was callous of me. That blanket obviously holds some sentimental value to you, and I'm sorry for not recognizing that. And you don't need to apologize for being distant. Grief will do that to a person."
"Thank you," I said, feeling relieved. "I brought a slice of chocolate and blackberry cake. I made it for Ted's birthday, but I can't eat the whole thing by myself."
"That's so sweet of you, Andie!" Laura exclaimed as she gathered her maps and stuffed them in a leather folio. "He'd be so happy you made him a cake. And it looks delicious!"
Laura Rosier was probably the closest thing I had to a best friend. She'd been in my and Ted's year at Hogwarts, and like me, was a disowned pureblood Slytherin. We hadn't been especially close as children, but after I was blasted off the family tapestry, we became friends. She was one of the only people who could truly comprehend what I had gone through as a young adult, meaning that I could confide things in her that other people in my social circle might not understand.
"And where's Teddy?" Laura continued, pushing a strand of her brown curly hair behind her ear. "I haven't seen him in ages!"
"He's being entertained by Harry right now," I said, a smile forming on my lips. "When I left them a few minutes ago, Harry was reading Teddy a Muggle book about a hungry caterpillar. My sister-in-law got it for him. Anyway, are you really sure I'm not interrupting something?"
"You're not," Laura said. "I was going over some Order business with Molly, but we finished that a while ago."
I was somewhat confused; I thought that the Order of the Phoenix had disbanded after the Dark Lord had been defeated. "The Order's still active?" I asked. "Is there still a need for vigilante justice? The war is over."
"The Order will continue its activities until all Death Eaters are caught," Molly mumbled, returning to filling out forms.
"We've learned from last time," Laura added. "Kingsley may be running the Ministry, but that doesn't mean that everything is finally over. I certainly don't trust that they can effectively rebuild the Department of Magical Law Enforcement while trying to catch everyone who escaped. I'm not going to let there be a third war, Andie. We've lost too much in two of them."
I saw my husband's, daughter's, and son-in-law's faces flash in my mind, and my vision became blurry.
"Please sit, Andromeda," Molly said gently, using her quill to gesture to an empty chair beside her. I complied.
"How are you doing, Molly?" I asked, but I didn't need to. Her forlorn expression told me everything I needed to know.
She sighed. "I'm getting through things, just like everyone else," she answered. "Once the funeral is over, we can start to move on."
I nodded, but I didn't agree. How could I move on when the people I cared most about were stuck in the past?
"What about you, Andie?" Laura asked brightly, scooting closer to me. "Anything interesting happening as of late?"
"Well, a trellis in the garden fell down yesterday and Teddy figured out how to change his eye color for the first time last week," I replied, running my pointer finger across one of the seams on my chair's patchy cushion. "But I don't know if either of those things count as interesting. The only thing of note is that my sister has been calling on me as of late."
Both women stared at me like I had five heads. Molly's mouth was agape, and Laura kept opening and closing hers as she tried to formulate a response. Behind them, a small clock began to chime as it rang the top of the hour.
"H-How… what?" Laura finally sputtered. "Er, that is… how is Cissy? Is she, er, pleasant company?"
"She apparently wants to reconcile," I explained, crossing my arms over my chest. Molly's mouth was still practically on the floor. "If she has an ulterior motive, I haven't been able to figure it out yet. But as much as I love her- and I always will- she's still so judgmental. She keeps glaring at my telephone and is unimpressed whenever I do anything 'Muggle' in her presence. She was also quite rude to Ted's sister, and the things she said about her son's sick friend were quite vile. You'd think that two wars and legal trouble would give her some perspective on what's important in life."
"I'm sure that she's missed you for a very long time, Andromeda" Molly said, pointing her wand at the documents on the table, instructing them to gather into a neat pile. "But that doesn't excuse her behavior. If she's going to be so disrespectful, is it even worth maintaining a relationship with her?"
I sighed. "Cissy won't very well improve her behavior if she cuts herself off from everyone who's different from her," I replied. "Maybe being in my home and around my family can help her. Maybe she'll start to see that her beliefs are wrong."
"She won't," Laura said sternly, her face unusually serious. "Narcissa's many things, but she's never been introspective or open-minded. I doubt she's changed much since we were at Hogwarts. The only way she'll change her views is if she faces real consequences for her actions- more than a slap on the wrist, I mean- and even then, I don't think she'll truly understand why she was wrong in the first place."
I wanted to have more faith in my little sister than Laura did, but I knew that my friend's assessment of her was probably correct.
"I hope she's better than that, Laura," I murmured, resting my head on my hand. "I really hope she is."
And if Narcissa was doomed to be prejudiced and cruel forever, I hoped that at the very least her son could escape that same path before it was too late.
Teddy and I were cuddling together on the couch when the doorbell rang. I sighed as I gathered him up to go answer it; I was getting extremely annoyed with the perpetual parade of visitors we'd been having denying us of any alone time. Grimacing, I opened the door.
"Minister Shacklebolt," I said, surprised by the Minister's presence on my doorstep. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Please, just call me Kingsley, Mrs. Tonks," he replied with a smile. "May I come in? I have a few matters I'd like to discuss with you."
At that moment, Teddy scrunched up his face, and with a small pop, his eyes turned the same dark brown as Kingsley's.
"Hello there, Teddy!" he beamed. "Look at you, changing your appearance like that! You're better at it than half of the people in the Auror Office! Your Mum and Dad would be so proud."
"Yes, it's a new trick of his," I said, biting back tears as I ushered Kingsley into the living room. "His eyes haven't even changed to their natural color yet, but he's somehow figured out how to get them to turn whatever color he wants. It took Nymphadora several months to be able to do the same thing."
Kingsley sat on one of the sofas, and I sat opposite him, shifting Teddy in my arms. "What are these matters that you'd like to discuss?" I asked, admittedly curious. I presumed it had to do with Remus or Nymphadora, as I hadn't any idea as to why Kingsley Shacklebolt would want to talk to me otherwise.
"There are three," he sighed, leaning back against the ivory cushions of the sofa. "The first has to do with your sister."
I gulped. "Narcissa?" I asked, holding my grandson so tightly that he let out a small cry.
"Bellatrix," he frowned. "As you probably know, Rodolphus is in Ministry custody awaiting trial. He's requested that his mother act as the executrix of your older sister's estate. I informed Mrs. Malfoy of this, and she has no objections. And while I know that your family filed documents to separate you from them back in the 1970s and you aren't legally her sister anymore, I don't think anyone would object if you wished to take control of Bellatrix's estate-"
"No," I immediately replied, a chill creeping up my spine her wicked smile flashed before me. I had too many painful memories of my older sister to handle going through her things. "Madam Lestrange can do it. I don't object to this."
Kingsley nodded. "Very well," he said, drumming his fingers on his kneecap. "I'll let her know."
"Thank you."
"I also wanted to let you know that Jeffrey Scoffers won't be bothering you anymore," he continued. "My sister fired him."
I exhaled slowly, relieved that Scoffers was facing some consequences for his actions. "The one you should be telling this to is Harry, not me," I replied, noticing a change in Teddy's breathing. Looking down, I noticed he'd fallen asleep.
"I'll let him know next time I see him," Kingsley said. "Thank you for reporting him, by the way. To be honest with you, this situation with the journalists has been a nightmare."
Whatever was going on with the journalists at The Daily Prophet wasn't knowledge I was privy to. "I'm sorry," I murmured, shaking my head. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Kingsley let out a long sigh. "The department my sister heads is responsible for op-eds and other types opinion pieces," he began to explain, squinting as sunlight suddenly began pouring through the open window. "A lot of Diana's journalists are either muggleborn or very vocal about their distaste for pureblood politics."
"As they should be," I agreed, waving my wand at the window to shut the blinds.
He nodded. "A few weeks before the Ministry fell, Diana got the sense that something bad was going to happen. She managed to relocate several of her subordinates to France so they could continue working and be safe."
"Your sister is very smart."
"She is. Unfortunately, though, being in France meant that her employees had to owl their articles to her since Voldemort cut off all international Floo connections. So, Diana hired several writers to handle day-to-day activities, Mr. Scoffers being one of them. According to her, the work-product and ethics of some of the newer writers have been less than stellar."
"The war is over now. Can't your sister let the worst of them go?"
"I think that's the eventual plan, but her muggleborn journalists are still stuck in France. They were able to claim refugee status there, so trying to get them back has been a bureaucratic nightmare. The French Ministry hasn't been making it easy. Not to mention the fact that most of those journalists' homes were either destroyed or raided, so we're going to have to find temporary accommodation for them. It's important we do so, but unfortunately, it's not currently a priority."
I rested my free arm on the back of the sofa. For as much as Teddy and I had lost in this war, Kingsley's story was a reminder that it could be worse. "I can't imagine your sister is happy about having to wait for the Ministry to help," I said, shaking my head. "Those poor people…"
"I know," Kingsley morosely replied, holding his head in his hands. "One of the depressing parts about being in charge is that I'm ultimately the one who decides how to allocate our limited funding and resources for these sorts of things: which people can afford to suffer and which can't. I hate it."
It was silent for several minutes after. Kingsley was very clearly overcome with remorse for his decision not to help them, and I didn't think he'd want to hear my thoughts on the matter. In my opinion, there were plenty of wealthy Death Eaters whose assets could be seized or liquidated to help their victims. Obviously, it wasn't that simple, but there was nothing in the law stopping the Ministry from fining them as part of their sentences once they were convicted.
"One last thing," Kingsley said, withdrawing a pouch from his deep blue robes. "Before they died, Remus and Tonks loaned me some books, Sneakoscopes, and Dark Detectors. I'd like to return them to you."
I took the pouch from him, which based on its size had to have had an Extendable Charm on it. "Thank you," I whispered, trying not to cry.
Our eyes met, and in Kingsley's hardened gaze I saw a sadness, fatigue, and regret far beyond those a middle-aged man should have experienced to this point. I supposed that my eyes held those very same things too.
"Tonks and Remus…" he muttered. "They were some of my dearest friends. They were so important to me. To everyone. The Auror Office isn't as cheery without your daughter there. And Order meetings feel so empty without Remus."
Kingsley looked at me again before slowly rising from the couch. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Tonks," he said, a bright, yet unconvincing smile on his face. "Hopefully the next time I see you will be under better circumstances."
"You're welcome," I replied, gently shifting my sleeping grandson in my arms as I stood to see the Minister out.
Once he was gone, I put Teddy in his bassinet before returning downstairs to examine the pouch. Inside was just what Kingsley had described: several of Nymphadora's Sneakoscopes, some Dark Detectors that I assumed belonged to Remus, a pocket Foe-Glass that Charlie Weasley had given them for their wedding, and several books on defensive magic.
One of the books appeared to be a journal, and upon flipping through it, I saw that it was filled with Remus' handwriting. Immediately, I shut the book and put it aside; it was never intended for my eyes, and I wasn't about to invade my son-in-law's privacy. If Teddy wanted to read it when he was older, he could make that choice.
As I put the various objects in appropriate places- mostly in Nymphadora's room- my thoughts returned to Remus.
Remus and I first met when he was eleven and I was seventeen. Sirius had dragged him and their friends to the Head Boy and Girl's Office one day to see if Ted and I would let them out of an assigned detention. Naturally, we did not. After graduating, I only saw Remus on a handful of occasions, usually when Sirius came to visit.
When the first war ended, Remus became a sporadic presence in our lives. It made sense in a way; he had lost all his friends in one night, and us and Mrs. Pettigrew were the closest thing he had left to family. Remus popped in and out of our lives without warning, but whenever he arrived on our doorstep, we welcomed him into our home. Sometimes he would babysit Nymphadora or offer to take her out somewhere, and other times he just wanted to eat dinner with us.
We hadn't known he was a werewolf at the time. In hindsight, it explained why he appeared and vanished so suddenly. However, that didn't change the fact that it seemed like every time things became difficult for Remus, he would take off, sometimes for months. I liked him, but he was flaky and unreliable.
When Nymphadora told Ted and me that she and Remus were dating, we were apprehensive, but supportive. When he dumped her, we did our best to comfort her. And when she informed us that she and Remus were getting married, we were extremely concerned, not because of his lycanthropy, but because we thought that he would run away when things got difficult and break her heart again.
Sadly, we were right.
Ted had been angry. I had been livid. But mostly, we were worried about our pregnant daughter. Thankfully though, Remus returned, but both Ted and I were convinced he would leave her again in the future. To his credit, Remus never did that, and even though I was wary of him, I was glad that Nymphadora had had someone to lean on the past year. Being pregnant was exhausting enough on its own, and fighting a war and dealing with the her father's death could only have exacerbated that fatigue. If Remus made Nymphadora happy through all that, I wasn't going to complain.
I wondered if the experiences of the past year had changed his outlook on life. Had he finally realized that he had people who needed him? That we had no issues with him being a werewolf, but were concerned his lack of self-worth and its impact on those around him?
I'd never bothered to ask Remus, and now, I'd never find out.
It was sunny and unseasonably humid the following day, and rather than fill out documents for the funeral home, I decided to take Teddy out for the afternoon. Putting a green knit hat on him and making sure that it was secure on his head, lest any Muggles see us and wonder why an infant was sporting purple hair, I strapped him in his pram, and we set out on our adventure.
The local Muggle village had a small park that had ample walking paths for us to traverse. Curious about his surroundings, Teddy was looking at everything: the green trees, the little bunnies scampering on the grass, the blue sky above, the yellow jonquils in flower beds by the trees, and the other people walking past us on the paths.
Partway through our walk, he began to cry. Stopping the pram by a bench, I took him out and held him, which immediately calmed him down.
Staring at my grandson, I was able to see the parts of us that he had inherited. When he wasn't busy changing its color, Teddy's hair was the same sandy brown that Remus' had been. He had Remus' ears and chin, Nymphadora's cheeks and nose, Ted's mouth, and the shape of my eyes. Even though Ted, Remus, and Nymphadora were gone from the world- and one day I would join them- it was strangely comforting to see the bits and pieces of those of us who came before reflected in one so much younger. It was also upsetting though; looking in the mirror was going to be the closest that Teddy could get to meeting his parents or grandfather face to face.
"Mrs. Tonks!" a voice called out. I looked up to see an older, balding man in a button-down shirt and brown pants approaching us.
"Mr. Graham," I greeted. "How's the grocery store doing?" Albert Graham owned a grocery store in the village, and I sometimes frequented his shop when I needed to find specific Muggle ingredients for recipes.
"It's going well!" he grinned, taking a seat next to me on the bench. Instinctively, I pushed Teddy's hat down on his head, causing him to fuss. "We just got a special order of freshwater salmon in for Mrs. Watson. You know, the primary schoolteacher down on East Street?"
"Yes, of course," I replied, deciding to play along. I had no idea who Mrs. Watson was or where East Street was located in relation to Graham's Grocery.
Mr. Graham peered over at Teddy. "How's the little one doing?" he asked.
"He's doing great," I answered, smiling at my grandson, who, from the wriggling he was now doing, had had enough of being held. "He's a bit fussy when eating, but he sleeps well and seems happy… all things considered."
Neither of us spoke for a moment, the only sound being some chirping birds that were sitting in a tree on the other side of the path.
"My condolences to you, Mrs. Tonks," Mr. Graham finally said, his hazel eyes melancholy. "To lose your daughter and son-in-law in an automobile accident so soon after your husband was in one… I can't even imagine the pain. You must be terrified of cars now."
I used the opportunity to put my fussing grandson back in the pram to hide my burgeoning tears from Mr. Graham. "Thank you," I sniffed. "It's been very difficult for us."
"Listen, why don't you and Teddy come by the house for dinner some time?" he offered. "Nancy makes shepherd's pie every Saturday. We'd love to have you over. The last time you and your husband stopped by was years ago."
I mumbled an unintelligible protest. Mr. Graham and his wife were very nice, but I didn't think that spending multiple hours with them in the company of an infant Metamorphmagus was a good idea. The Statute of Secrecy would be broken three seconds upon our arrival. Furthermore, so many of my experiences over the past year had to do with things I couldn't talk about with Muggles, and in truth, I lacked confidence in my ability to cage it in language they would empathize with. Ted was always much better at that, and when we had visited in the past, I'd let him take the lead in our conversations. I didn't think I could handle it without him. A wave of sadness crashed through me as I thought of my husband's sunny smile.
"I'll consider it," I said, knowing that I wouldn't take Mr. Graham up on his offer. "It was nice to see you, but unfortunately, I think Teddy's decided that it's time to head back. Please give Nancy my regards."
"Will do!" he grinned. "I hope to see you buying things at my store soon!"
With a curt nod, I turned the pram around and headed back home, once again uncertain as to how I was supposed to move on without the people I loved most beside me.
This chapter ended up being so long that, like several other chapters in this story, it ended up being split in two- last chapter and this one. While Narcissa is a recurring character in this story, we're done with her as a perspective character. Because of that, I thought it was important to take as much time as needed to properly convey her mindset and how she thinks about life, as well as show how the events of the past twenty-five years continue to weigh on her and inform her present decisions.
The book that Harry reads to Teddy is "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" by Eric Carle, written in 1969. This book is loved by children worldwide, and if you grew up in the United States or the United Kingdom, you might have read it as a child yourself. In 2003, about five years after this story takes place, the BBC ran a poll to find out what books were the most beloved in the United Kingdom, and "The Very Hungry Caterpillar" made the list at #199. The illustrations in the book are quite striking, using collage artwork to depict the caterpillar and various food items. I thought that Ted's older sister, an artist, would have appreciated its style enough to get it for Teddy, despite her being too old to have read it as a child.
Next week, we will spend time among the zinnias.