[Wednesday one-shots]: Narcissa Watchful, Lucius/Narcissa, H/D, PG-13, 6.10/7

[lomonaaeren]

Part Nine.

Title: Narcissa Watchful (10/11)
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!

Part Ten

Narcissa strode into the Ministry, moving with a calm pace, and looking neither right nor left. She still wasn’t surprised when Aurors fell into place on either side of her. They didn’t look at her, either. They simply escorted her to the lifts, and then rode in one of them with her up to the Acting Minister’s office.

It turned out that the only inhabitant of it at the moment was Rufus Scrimgeour. He sighed when he saw her, and braced himself as if he assumed that he was going to receive some sort of kick in the groin. “Yes, Mrs. Malfoy?”

“Why are you here? Are you Acting Minister?”

Scrimgeour shook his head. “I was nursing some ambitions in that direction, but…with our best bet for that position dead, it seems foolish to do.”

“I want to know who ordered the arrest of my son.”

Scrimgeour blinked. “I was unaware that Draco Malfoy had been arrested.”

His confusion seemed genuine enough that Narcissa held herself back from snapping, but the restraint was a bare thread. “Harry Potter is my foster son. He was arrested a few hours ago on the word of a fool who assumed that a distraction in the sky next to the Dark Mark means that he murdered Amelia Bones.”

Scrimgeour shook his head again, more slowly. “I’m aware that some Aurors did that, but I didn’t give the order. As far as I know, that came from Auror Williams’s office.”

“The name is not familiar to me.”

“An, ah, supporter of Minister Fudge,” said Scrimgeour. “His apparent pick for his next Undersecretary, but then Fudge lost power. Williams remained, however. And it seems that he has some kind of grudge against Mr. Potter. As well as against your husband.” Scrimgeour was watching her closely. “He’s rather a fanatic against Death Eaters, in fact.”

“Or former ones? Or Imperiused ones? I’ll thank you to remember that my husband was acquitted of anything more egregious than a few foolish decisions during the last war, Auror Scrimgeour.”

That got her a look of polite disbelief, but Scrimgeour nodded. “Of course. But it doesn’t matter. If they had a Dark Mark on their arm or they still do or they’re associated with someone who did or does, then Auror Williams wants them gone. I think that it’s a foolish move, but on the other hand, there will be people baying for the boy’s blood soon enough. This might actually be the best protection for him, in Ministry custody.”

Narcissa held back her immediate response, as it seemed she had been doing since Minerva first told her Harry had been arrested. She gave a slow nod. “But I want it understood that he is not guilty.”

“Auror Williams isn’t going to believe that.”

“Then too bad for Auror Williams.”

Perhaps she had shown some aspect of the true self that her discipline normally guarded so fiercely, because Scrimgeour took a slow step around the desk. “Mrs. Malfoy? If you would like help, then I can give you help.”

“How? You said yourself that you’re not going to be Acting Minister.”

“Not Acting Minister in the sense of taking over the job someday, but someone needs to bring order to the chaos right now. And keep murder from happening.” Scrimgeour narrowed his eyes a little. “Even if sometimes, the murder is justified. Auror Williams is a fool.”

“You are welcome to accompany me, Rufus. And to call me Narcissa.” Now that the first burning around the edges of her vision had receded, Narcissa could see the benefits of such an alliance. “Perhaps someone from the Ministry will listen better to someone from the Ministry.”

“Er, yes.”

Rufus still eyed her warily as they walked towards the lifts again. Narcissa showed him a faint corner of a smile. “What, Rufus? You don’t think that a mother would be fierce in defense of her child?”

She could see him relaxing, convincing himself that that was all he had seen, not a glimpse of a dark power that could have destroyed him and kept moving without looking back. If that was what he needed to think, Narcissa did not begrudge it to him. She had been foolish, in fact, showing so much of herself and expecting it to pass unnoticed.

She need not warn her prey or potential allies who might also become potential enemies if they saw how strong her impulse to vengeance was. She would wait, and then she would strike, and that would be the end of it.

*

“You cannot see Mr. Potter.”

“He is a minor child, and I am his mother.” For the first time Narcissa had a reason to be grateful that Harry’s seventeenth birthday would not be until July. She wound her hands together and looked full into Williams’s face. Henry Williams, that was his name, a first one so similar to Harry’s and yet nothing like him at all. “You would deny me access to him? He probably does not even understand what he has been arrested for. I merely wish to speak to him, comfort him, and reassure him that things will be all right.”

“He committed murder, madam. How is that all right?”

“What is the evidence that he committed murder?” Rufus asked, his voice slightly bored. He had a tight grip on his wand, but Narcissa only knew that because of how close she was pressed to his arm. “I thought a trial was necessary first no matter what happened. And where is the law that says a minor child must be confined alone, no matter how dangerous he is?”

“He is a child of Death Eaters.”

“I didn’t know Lily and James Potter were Death Eaters, either. What a day of surprises this is turning out to be.”

“You know very well what I mean, Rufus!” The man leaned forwards, trembling, his hands locked on the edges of his desk. He saw Narcissa looking at them and snatched them back, but Narcissa had seen. Auror Williams was old enough to be Harry’s father and to have a few lines of white in his black hair, but he was still frightened. “Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy claim that he’s their adopted son? Fine. Then he’s the child of Death Eaters!”

Narcissa sighed and reached for her left sleeve. That got Williams’s wand trained on her in seconds. Narcissa pretended that she hadn’t seen it—that really was the best tactic for all concerned—and continued rolling up her sleeve. “There,” she said, as she exhibited her unmarked left arm. “Now that you know I’m not a Death Eater, may I visit my child?”

“Finite Incantatem!”

All of them paused. The Dark Mark failed to blossom into existence on Narcissa’s flesh. She nodded to Williams and stepped past him. In the end, it wasn’t that hard. He wasn’t willing to lay a hand on her, and she wasn’t afraid of him or the force of the law that he might bring to bear.

He seems entirely unnerved by the Dark Mark not being there, Narcissa thought, and while in some ways it was a shame that his fear was making him a weaker opponent, most of her rejoiced in it.

Behind Auror Williams, a short corridor led to a row of cell doors. Narcissa instinctively went to the one that had the thickest bars and the smallest window in the panel of iron. She asked, “Harry?”

“Mother?”

“Child of Death Eaters!” announced Williams behind her. Apparently, he’d had enough time to recover from his fear.

Narcissa only shook her head a little and asked, “Harry, are you well? Do you need food, or water, or a chance to come out to talk to me?”

Williams started some other tirade behind her. Narcissa was skilled at not listening when she did not wish to, and she concentrated solely on Harry. He seemed to consider it for a second, and then he said, “No, Mother. Nothing. I only want to make sure that you’re all right, and that you can tell people the truth.”

To Narcissa, the message was clear. Don’t break me out. Take a while. Make them hurt.

“If you think that the Ministry is going to stand by as your Death Eater foster mother lies for you—”

“Shut up, you fool,” Rufus told Williams. His voice was deeper than Narcissa had known it could go. “You’ve already seen that she doesn’t have the Dark Mark. If you won’t shut up for our good, do it for your own. You know that Malfoys don’t forget a debt.”

Narcissa wanted to smile, but she kept the impulse under control. They learned that from the Blacks, she thought calmly, and she faced the cell door again. “If they don’t feed you or give you water, Harry, then tell me. You can concentrate hard enough on your distress that I’ll feel it.” And that was true, thanks to a few spells she had placed on Harry years ago, spells unbreakable by anything except one of them dying.

“Thank you, Mother.”

“Of course we are going to feed him and give him water! We aren’t You-Know-Who’s forces.”

“Do forgive me, Auror Williams,” Narcissa said, and kept her voice as cold as possible while she stepped away from the cell door. “From the way that you were ranting about how inhuman you find Voldemort’s forces, and acting as though you believe a sixteen-year-old committed murder with no proof, I wasn’t sure about your sanity.”

“Mrs. Malfoy.”

Narcissa took no note of his stiff face and tone. “I trust that you are going to take good care of my son,” she told Rufus. “If I hear differently, then I think you know who I will be visiting first.”

Rufus only nodded. Auror Williams pointed a finger at her and demanded, “Threatening the Head of the Auror Department? If you had any idea—”

“I think I have a very good idea,” Narcissa said, and left the prison corridor without waiting for the Aurors to catch up. Her mind was skipping ahead, considering what would be the most urgent thing to do other than reassuring Draco and Lucius that Harry was well. She could confront other students or Ministry flunkies, of course, but she was reluctant to do so unless they began their own rumors. She had more pressing concerns.

Such as how to remove Harry from the cells in such a way that no one would doubt what had happened, and she would show her displeasure, and she would ensure that no one—such as Henry Williams—would be able to hurt Harry before that happened.

Narcissa smiled. Well, she had always enjoyed a challenge.

*

“But doesn’t he have to have done something, if the Ministry is going to arrest him?”

Narcissa halted behind one of the walls that formed the corner. She recognized the voice that was speaking: Miss Abbott’s, the same student Narcissa had given detention to and who had challenged Harry to a wizard’s duel. And Narcissa had her suspicions about who Miss Abbott was talking to, but she wanted to wait and hear what would happen next, without her interference.

“Because the Ministry is always right?” Draco made a disgusted sound. “Think about it, Abbott. Last year, the Minister was denying that You-Know-Who is back. Even though he knew a bunch of students here had seen him. Does that make it sound as if the Ministry always knows what it’s doing?”

“But Minister Fudge is gone now. I thought that meant—things would get better.”

Narcissa turned so that she could see around the corner without revealing any sign of her own presence, including her shadow. Abbott stood there with her head bowed, shivering a little as if she imagined that would clear up the confusion in her head. Draco faced her, his face polished and shining and neutral.

I am so proud of you, Narcissa thought. Draco was far more distraught at Harry’s absence than Lucius was, but her husband did not have so good a mask.

“Maybe things will get better if people work for change,” Draco finally allowed. Abbott looked up at him, and Narcissa smiled. Her blood son was a much better leader than Harry, or would be when he grew into trust of his own abilities. Harry was impatient of politics, and it showed. Few people would trust him when he was that openly impatient. “But they won’t if we sit back and whine and cry and trust the Ministry to be infallible.”

“So you don’t think Potter did it.”

“Of course not. This is such a transparent tactic for You-Know-Who to use.” Even Draco’s use of Voldemort’s sobriquet was calculated, Narcissa thought. He said “Voldemort” aloud in the privacy of her quarters, but he knew that if he said it now, Abbott would focus too much on the name and not on what he was saying. “Harry wouldn’t leave a lightning bolt floating above a corpse, and he wouldn’t have killed someone who could actually be his political ally and make the Ministry better.”

True. He would have killed them in a much more subtle way, and then not an ally who had done nothing to deserve it.

There was a long, shuddering breath, and then Abbott muttered, “You sound convincing, Malfoy. Really convincing. I’ll—I’ll think about it. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me.”

“Any time, Miss Abbott.”

Even that sounded lofty. Narcissa was smiling as she slammed herself under a hasty Disillusionment Charm. Abbott turned the corner and walked past her without noticing, her head bowed and a faint frown playing around the corners of her mouth. Narcissa waited a few beats to give Abbott time to disappear and her son to recover, then stepped out to face him.

Draco’s gaze was locked on her at once, or rather on the faint shimmer of movement and changing color that the Disillusionment Charm let him see. He didn’t relax until Narcissa took the spell off, but then he sighed and shook his head. “What do you think, Mother? Did I do it as well as I could have?”

He was restraining himself from asking after Harry. Again Narcissa couldn’t help but smile, and she reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. “You did it perfectly. We need more people to be in support of Harry as the Ministry tries to blame him for this. And Miss Abbott is a close friend of Susan Bones. She may be able to get past the defensiveness and grief that I’m sure the girl feels now that her aunt is dead.”

Draco blinked. “I didn’t think of that. Poor Susan.” He went on before Narcissa could startle at the compassion. “And—how is he?”

“They have him in a cell,” Narcissa said. “An ordinary cell in the Ministry, nowhere near Dementors.” She waited for Draco’s relieved sigh to pass over, and then added, “They didn’t appear to be starving him or keeping him from drinking, either. He seemed calm, and he asked me to leave him there. I think that we need to wait and remember that right now, justice is the most important thing, and vengeance can be delayed if we need it to be.”

Draco nodded slowly. His eyes were shimmering with a fire that Narcissa had seen more often in Harry’s eyes than in his. “If we have to wait, then we wait.” He paused and stepped out from under her hand. “But, Mother? I’m looking forward to the day when we don’t have to wait anymore.”

Narcissa smiled. “I think everyone in our family could say the same, Draco.”

*

“I—I am not sure what use I can be of to you, now that I am suffering from this—illness.”

Narcissa gave Idunna a faint smile. “I wanted you to analyze the Dark magic the Ministry claims they found in the lightning bolt floating over Madam Bones’s body. That ought to tell us whether it was the same magic that created the Horcrux or not. And if it is—”

“Then that would prove that your son was influenced by the Horcrux!”

Narcissa stared at Idunna, who finally seemed to notice Narcissa’s gaze was wintry instead of celebratory. She straightened up, frowning. “What other conclusion would it be possible to draw?”

“That my son had not cast the lightning bolt? It is a simple ploy to make it seem as if Voldemort has my son as an ally, when in reality he is trying to frame him.” Narcissa had sometimes wondered during the first war why Voldemort was able to gain such ground when his tactics were so violent and bloody, but now she understood. It was not so much that Voldemort was a tactical genius as that the wizarding public was bloody stupid.

“We cannot discount the possibility that they may be working together. I know that you are reluctant to think so, Professor Malfoy, but that may be the truth, and you need to face it.”

“I will ask that you research the matter and find the truth,” Narcissa said coldly, and waited through a few more inane comments until Idunna left. Then she sat back in her chair, shaking her head.

No matter the fact that Narcissa had hoped to use Idunna to hunt a few more Horcruxes, she was nearing the end of her usefulness.