[Wednesday one-shots]: Narcissa Watchful, Lucius/Narcissa, H/D, PG-13, 6.11/7

[lomonaaeren]

Part Ten.

Title: Narcissa Watchful (11/11)
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairing: Established Harry/Draco and Narcissa/Lucius
Rating: PG-13
Content Notes: Angst, violence, crack, AU
Summary: Narcissa will search out the Horcruxes. She will remove the Horcrux from her foster son’s head. She will give her cousin Sirius a purpose in life. She will free her husband from his ill-thought-out allegiance to the Dark Lord. She will do something else then, because that is not enough to fill her life.
Author’s Notes: Sixth in a series of stories where Narcissa is an in-demand spy and assassin and Harry’s foster mother. Don’t read this one without reading the others first, seriously.

Thank you again for all the reviews! This is the last chapter of Narcissa Watchful, but the story will continue on (and conclude) with Narcissa Triumphant.

Part Eleven

“But what are you going to do to the Ministry, Narcissa? Particularly if Harry wants you to leave him where he is for now?” Lucius’s voice was bewildered, and his hands slid gently across her skin as if he thought he could soothe her back into sleep.

Narcissa propped herself up and smiled at him as his eyes followed the cascade of her blonde hair down her shoulder. “I found out why Auror Williams hates Death Eaters so much.”

“One of them killed his family?”

“No. That is what the official record says, but I found some names in that official record that I knew. And I went to them, and they talked.” Narcissa pulled a bronze knife from her wrist sheath and hurled it so that it stuck in the wall, quivering. “It was very effective, what I did to them.”

Lucius flinched from her. Narcissa looked back at him, blinking. “What is it, my love?”

“You—had that knife in bed with us all the time? And I never noticed?”

“Well, the wrist-sheath is charmed to be unnoticeable,” Narcissa said demurely, but she smiled at him. She could feel his real reaction underneath the blankets. “No, I managed to find out that Williams’s sister was a Death Eater. She was the one who killed their parents, not some random stranger.”

“And—no one noticed the Dark Mark on her arm when she was sentenced to Azkaban?” Lucius’s voice was distracted as he reached up and ran his fingers through her hair. Narcissa stretched and shut her eyes. In a moment, she would let them have what they both wanted.

“She wasn’t sentenced,” Narcissa murmured, her eyes closed. “They found her dead next to her parents, and then her dear brother put in a great deal of work and money and favor-trading to have the Dark Mark hushed up. She was listed as another victim of the Williams Massacre. No one I encountered knew for sure, due to a lack of witnesses, but it’s highly likely her brother killed her.”

“And then acted as if it was all Death Eaters.” Lucius tugged on her hair. “I could almost admire the man. Er—do you have any other knives?”

“You never know, my love. Do you?”

Lucius gave a faint growling moan under his breath and pounced on her. Narcissa let him roll her over, and kissed him.

Then they began to do other things that need not relate to the Ministry or her planned vengeance, and Narcissa entertained Lucius with the many unexpected surprises that she did have on her person.

*

“We are here to begin the trial of Harry James Potter for the murder of Madam Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and candidate for Minister of Magic.”

Auror Williams made his voice as sonorous as he could, but Narcissa was still unimpressed, especially since she had spent time with true masters of that kind of speech. They were in the largest courtroom the Wizengamot ever met in, with purple drapes hanging on the walls and a golden sunburst glowing on the ceiling, which itself was made of frosted glass. There were lots of chairs for witnesses, which were like the polished oaken pews that Narcissa had once seen in a Muggle church where she had killed a target, and galleries of white marble for the Wizengamot members.

Auror Williams stood in front of the galleries with Harry in the prisoner’s chair next to him. Since Harry was still underage, there were no chains on his arms. That made Narcissa happy. It was one less insult that she would have to punish. It also looked as though Harry had been fed regularly during the days that he had spent in confinement.

That might be the only thing that would keep the Ministry standing, at the end of the day.

“And what does the defendant have to say for himself?” asked Griselda Marchbanks, one of the elder members of the Wizengamot. She leaned forwards as if the thick lenses she wore would let her see the expression on Harry’s face in finer detail.

Harry looked up. He had the calm, blank expression on his face that Narcissa had had to drill with him to achieve. It came much easier to Draco. “Not guilty.”

“He is,” Auror Williams promptly insisted. “There will be evidence shown that—”

“You forget yourself, Henry,” said Rufus Scrimgeour from the side of the room. He had the same sour expression on his face that he had worn in all the newspaper photographs Narcissa had seen of him in the last few weeks, but his gaze was keen and cutting. He had nodded to acknowledge her, Lucius, and Draco when they first came in, with Minerva following close behind them. “You spoke. Now it is the Wizengamot’s turn to speak.”

Auror Williams fell back, flushing. Narcissa smiled at Rufus, and he nodded to her again without changing his expression.

“Yes, indeed.” Madam Marchbanks shifted her weight in her chair. “Tell us what evidence there is that Harry James Potter committed this murder.”

Auror Williams’s presentation of “evidence” was all about the lightning bolt found floating above Bones’s body, of course. He brought in witnesses who had seen it. One averred that it was “just the color of Potter’s eyes,” which got him questioned and sharply dismissed by the Wizengamot when it became clear that he’d never seen Harry’s eyes at close range.

Narcissa kept her smirk to herself.

“And the evidence for the defense?” Madam Marchbanks finally asked.

Minerva stood, but Williams jumped in before she could say anything. “There can be none! The boy is a murderer, attempting to shield himself with the help of Death Eaters!”

“Come say that to my face, Henry Williams!” Minerva folded her arms and glared at the boy. “I faced you down when you tried to whinge at me about deserving a higher mark than Acceptable in Transfiguration, and I can do it now!”

A heavy chuckle moved around the courtroom, and Narcissa smiled at Minerva. She knew there were other reasons that Minerva had chosen to come, but just at the moment, she couldn’t think of anyone else who could have contributed so heavily to Harry’s defense.

Well. To his legal defense.

Minerva turned to face the Wizengamot and managed to dip her head without ever conveying that she was going to degrade herself by something like a bow. “I am the Headmistress of Hogwarts. If you know anything about the responsibility the office entails, you know that I have to be aware if a student actually leaves the walls at night.”

“I do know that,” said Madam Marchbanks. “But how does it alert you? Surely it can’t enable you to catch absolutely every student?”

“Not always catch them. But I know where they’ve gone, and how they’ve left—by Floo, or through a passage in the walls, or the front doors. It’s damn annoying when people decide they want to snog on the grounds instead of in the castle,” Minerva declared, and the Wizengamot chuckled again. “The point is, the castle doesn’t tell me names. But it wakes me instantly, and it tells me the House and the year and sex of the person who left. That much it can do, thanks to the Houses being in such different places in the school and each year and sex sleeping in a different room.”

“And so?” Williams prodded, although from the way he’d tensed, he’d seen where Minerva was heading with this. Narcissa would have been a little disappointed if he hadn’t. She wanted some intelligence in an opponent.

“There were no Gryffindor fifth-year boys out of the school the night Madam Bones was killed,” Minerva said simply. “Nor even in the corridors. The portraits would have alerted me of that. Mr. Potter could not have left the school after dark that night.”

Madam Marchbanks nodded slowly. “That is valuable evidence, Headmistress. Thank you.”

“No, it isn’t!” Williams snapped at once. “All he had to do was leave the castle before it got dark and then hide somewhere and wait for his chance! Or even Apparate to where he knew the Death Eaters were meeting!”

“As it happens,” said Minerva, her face and voice so chill that Narcissa promised herself to revise the memory later so that she could see what those expressions looked like on someone else’s face, “Mr. Potter was at dinner that night. Which takes place after dark, this time of the year. He would have been missed. He is quite the famous and noticeable inhabitant of the Gryffindor table at this point.”

Narcissa darted a glance over at Harry. He gave her one that was full of quiet amusement, and went back to watching as Williams almost hopped with indignation.

“You don’t know that that wasn’t someone Polyjuiced as him or glamoured as him, even! Headmistress, you can’t know!”

“There is, in fact,” Narcissa interrupted softly, “an easy method of setting Auror Williams’s mind at ease. I would permit the use of Veritaserum, if my son agrees, and if the questions are carefully restricted to that specific night and nothing else.” She stared straight at Williams as she spoke.

Williams turned red in the face as he looked at her. “You know that questions like that are not usual procedure, Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Why not? They should be.” Lucius achieved the tone of boredom that Narcissa never could have, not at the moment. “Many trials would be much shorter if they were.” He examined his fingernails, which Narcissa thought were growing better since she had destroyed so much of the Dark Mark. “I give my permission, too, as Harry Potter’s foster father,” he added, apparently not thinking anyone would need it when Narcissa had spoken.

Narcissa squeezed his knee as a reward, out of sight.

“Does Mr. Potter consent to the use of Veritaserum?” asked Rufus, and he looked straight at Harry. “He will have to.”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said, and his face was downcast and modest. They really had trained hard on that part of the discipline, to make Harry a better liar than he’d been. “If it would help, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do.” He flashed the courtroom a nervous smile, and then spent most of the time looking down again.

Despite Williams making enraged noises, the Veritaserum was fetched. Narcissa, meanwhile, closed her eyes and began to gather up the magic that she had worn into the courtroom in the form of jewelry, unnoticeable to the wards that hovered everywhere to detect dangerous weapons. The pendant around her neck heated. The rings on her fingers chimed softly. Minerva gave her a sidelong look.

She would have noticed, along with my family, that I never wear this much ordinarily, but what reason did she have to alert the Ministry? Narcissa breathed in and out, and still the magic rose and rose in her blood. Normally, she would never have done this. It would leave her exhausted afterwards, and a good assassin was never exhausted, not when she might have to move quickly any minute.

For now, she would need to leave the duty of protecting her when this was done to her husband and sons.

Terrifying, but it must be done.

She heard the arguments Williams was trying to make, and the bustle back and forth as someone fetched Veritaserum after all. Then she opened her eyes and watched the fussy Ministry Potions brewer on his way to the defendant’s chair.

She pushed her magic out as hard as she could, and it gripped the rug beneath the Ministry brewer’s feet and tripped him. At the same time, it ensured Williams’s mouth was open, and the arc of the potion was perfect. So many coincidences, all at once, and no one must know there was anything magical about them.

Narcissa slumped over in her seat and whispered, “Why did—why did Auror Williams want to persecute my son like this?”

She spoke as though she had no idea what would happen, and managed a convincing start when Williams replied in a dull, dazed voice, “Because he was raised by Death Eaters. Death Eaters are evil.”

“Yes, I can understand, since they killed your family,” Narcissa said, and blinked a little. “But don’t you know that Harry doesn’t have the Dark Mark on his arm? Have you ever known a Death Eater who didn’t have it?’

“I knew. I have known a Death Eater who I didn’t know had it.”

“Who?”

“Mrs. Malfoy!” Madam Marchbanks said sharply, but not sharply enough to cover up the answer that stumbled out of Williams’s mouth.

“My sister.”

The gasp that swept the room quieted all the attempts that Madam Marchbanks and a few other people were making to stop Narcissa from asking questions. Even the ones who had wanted to “protect” Auror Williams from being made to answer unfair questions were staring wide-eyed and avid at him now.

“Your sister was a Death Eater?” Narcissa pressed a trembling hand to her breast. It wasn’t hard to feign shock, not when she was shaking with exhaustion from the magic necessary to manipulate the situation to her best advantage.

“Yes.” Williams started sightlessly past her. Of course, with that much Veritaserum in him, he would respond only to direct questions.

At that point, Rufus thumped his cane on the floor and shouted, “We need to stop asking questions! Auror Williams never consented to answer them.” He gave Narcissa a narrow glance, and she immediately bowed her head in a way that she knew would hide her eyes.

“Of course. Forgive me, Head Auror. I grew overexcited.”

Madam Marchbanks and the others who were interested in normal procedure went back to establishing order and calling for the antidote to Veritaserum for Williams, but Narcissa knew the damage had been done. There were plenty of them now who would consider his desire to prosecute Harry less than pure.

And, for that matter, his hatred of Death Eaters was, as well.

It honestly didn’t take long after that. Williams was darting his eyes everywhere after he recovered, and he had no more questions or interruptions to offer while Narcissa, Lucius, and Draco finished presenting the rest of their evidence. Draco had been with him most of that evening and had seen no sign of Harry being magically exhausted or sneaking out of school. Narcissa reminded the Wizengamot, again, of the passionate hatred Voldemort held for Harry and vice versa, and detailed some of the times she had observed it. Lucius gave “old” observations of Voldemort, and said he was not the sort to join with an enemy who had once humiliated him.

At last Madam Marchbanks and the rest of the Wizengamot withdrew behind glass-colored spells to debate. Harry gave her a tired look. Narcissa smiled gently back. This was only the first phase of the revenge, humiliating the man who had insisted that Harry receive a full trial for an offense when he was underage. The Ministry had much more humiliation coming.

The glass-colored spells fell after remarkably little time, and Madam Marchbanks cleared her throat. “Mr. Potter, it would be easier if you had still testified under Veritaserum.”

Harry just looked at her and said nothing. Neither did Narcissa. Apparently the Aurors she had made spill the potion into Williams’s mouth had been carrying the whole of the Ministry’s supply. There was no time to get more without delaying the trial unconsciably. (And if the Wizengamot had felt that it was permissible to delay it for a month while they brewed more, then Narcissa would have called on her allies with their ranks to ensure they saw it the same way she did).

“But we have come to the conclusion,” Madam Marchbanks finished, “that you are not guilty, and will therefore be released from Ministry custody and may go on attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

She still sounded unhappy, probably about the irregularities during the trial, but Narcissa couldn’t care less. She was the one who had wanted to hold this trial and who hadn’t done enough to stop Williams from interrupting. It should never have got to this point in the first place, that Harry had had to offer to testify under Veritaserum.

She was part of the Ministry, and they would all pay.

Finally, the Aurors gathered around Harry stepped back, and their wands pointed at the floor instead. Harry stood up and turned around, and Narcissa grabbed him and bowed her head. The exhaustion was fading. The strength of righteous anger was burning it out of her veins as if she had been doused with a potion.

“You are all right.”

“I’m fine.” Harry’s hands tightened on her arms as Draco came up to hug him from behind, and Minerva hovered nearby as if to approve their return to the school. “But I am going to teach them a lesson for this, Mother.”

His vow was soft enough that not even Draco could hear it. Narcissa stroked his cheek. “I never doubted it for a minute.”

And she made her own vow as they stood there.

Everyone who touches my sons from now on will die.

The End.