Title:                 His Daughter’s Father Part 3

Email:               tirel@pcnuthut.com

Site:                  https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/firebird_ascending/

Author:             Constant Vigilance

Disclaimer:        JK Rowling is God. I own nothing.

Distribution:      Sure. Just lemme know where my baby’s going.

Spoilers:           Up to GoF. Book 5 never happened. *Growls at Rowling*

Summary:         Narcissa joins the cause.

 

Month 1/15

 

Harry eyed the universally glaring Slytherin table with a bit of trepidation. “Draco?” he asked quietly.

 

Draco broke off talking with Hermione about the upcoming Potions quiz and peered inquisitively at the pale boy. “What’s wrong, Harry?”

 

“They’re glaring again,” Harry said into his plate. Draco glanced up and rolled his eyes.

 

“Harry, they’re going to glare. They’re going to watch me and they’re more than likely going to try to kick my ass,” he shrugged. “Its just something I’m going to have to get used to.”

 

Harry bit his lip. “You don’t have to, you know. I-I’m sure that they’d take you back if you cut your losses and dropped m-us.” He blushed at the slip, but Draco didn’t seem to notice.

 

“You know, it’s a good thing you’re pregnant,” Draco smirked. “Otherwise I’d have to smack you several dozen times. I’ve told you, Harry. I have no interest in becoming a Death Eater. I have no interest in being a puppet. I do, however, have a vested interest in you and your health. Therefore, I am here…not there. And here is where I will be staying.”

 

Harry looked pained. “But why? Why do you have a ‘vested interest’ in me?” He was too busy staring at his plate in confusion to notice Draco’s sudden flush. Hermione wasn’t. Nor was Dean, or Neville or Ginny. They each wore a tiny smile as Draco blustered for a moment.

 

“I…well, I just do, okay? Now shut up and eat your pancakes. You need to keep up your strength.” He closed the topic by pouring Harry another glass of orange juice and glaring at him until the pregnant boy sighed and drank the whole thing.

 

“So, Draco,” Ginny called. When Draco turned his attention to her, she smiled. “How is Lucius taking the news of your defection?”

 

Draco shrugged. “I honestly have no idea. We weren’t really that close, despite how it looked. He didn’t approve of much I did, so I can only imagine that this is just one more thing to persuade him that he should have given me away at birth.” He smiled as he answered, but Ginny could detect tiny worry lines around his eyes. Maybe he didn’t care what his father thought of him, but he cared about something. The only question was…what?

___________________________________________________________________________

 

At that very moment, miles away at the Malfoy Manor, that what was currently pleading with her husband.

 

“Lucius, please,” Narcissa held her hands out entreatingly. “He’s just a boy. A silly little boy. He’s confused. He’ll come around.”

 

Lucius slammed his cane down onto his desk, causing Narcissa to flinch imperceptibly. “He is not a boy, Narcissa. He is a 17-year-old man. By his age I had taken the dark mark and was committed to my Lord!” he bellowed. “What has Draco done? Why, he’s saved Harry Potter’s life! He’s cursed and outed a potential Death Eater! He’s turned his back on his family and his Lord!” He raked his cane across his desk, scattering the expensive frames and sculptures as well as dozens of parchments.

 

“He is a failure and a disgrace, Narcissa! And he will be punished for this,” Lucius’ eyes took on a wild light. “He will stand beside his precious Potter on the day that our Lord destroys his last opponent. He will die, painfully and in humiliation for his choice.”

 

Narcissa’s face closed off and her spine stiffened. “Lucius, he is your son,” she began.

 

Lucius stepped into her space and practically spit as he retorted, “I have no son, Narcissa.”

 

Narcissa forced herself not to step back. “Fine, then. He is my son. And you will not harm him. I will not allow it.” She felt that she had handled that with the quiet dignity befitting a Lady of Malfoy Manor. At least until Lucius began laughing maniacally.

 

“You will not allow it?” he howled in laughter. “Won’t you now, my dearest wife?” he clamped hands on her shoulders, the cold bar of his cane digging into her flesh. “And how exactly are you going to prevent it, Narcissa?”

 

She flinched as his spittle flew onto her face and knew in that second that he had won. She had shown fear. She had failed her son. Lucius grinned evilly. He knew it as well. “Yes, my dear…you did indeed forget your place for a moment,” he caressed her cheek with one gloved hand. “Now I’m afraid I must teach you a lesson about that. Malfoy women do not forget their places,” he hissed into her face. “And your place is as a lovely decorative piece to hang off of my arm at public functions and to manage the bloody house elves. However, if you insist on defying me, I can certainly arrange for your place to be at your son’s side as he screams and bleeds next to Harry Potter.”

 

Narcissa shut her eyes briefly as his caress turned painful. “Do you think you can remember that, my dearest wife?” his voice was like honey, a sure sign that he was infuriated beyond belief. Frantically, she nodded, knowing that she was one step away from tears. Lucius sighed. “I wish I could believe you, Narcissa. But I think I must make sure you truly understand this lesson.”

 

“Lucius, no,” she whimpered, her knees going weak.

 

“Shhh, shhh my sweet,” he whispered against her ear. “It will only hurt for a while.” He chuckled, “A long while, but a while none-the-less.”

 

And the screams filled the lower levels of the manor.

__________________________________________________________________

 

She didn’t know how long she was unconscious. She could tell that the sun had moved out of the study window, but that could place it anywhere from noon to evening. Then she wondered why the hell she cared what time it was. She had nothing to look forward to, anyway. Tears rolled down her cheek, burning a trail through the abrasions placed there by a gloved fist.

 

“Missy Malfoy, you is awake!” came a small voice. Narcissa opened an eye…she found that one was all that would obey her commands…and saw a small, concerned face peering anxiously down at her.

 

She tried to smile reassuringly at the small elf, but the movement stretched swollen skin and she flinched. At that, she felt a cool compress against her burning flesh and vaguely recognized that someone was whispering above her before the little face returned into her vision again. “Missy Malfoy? You is sitting up now?” the little creature begged.

 

Narcissa nodded painfully and attempted to right herself. With a yelp, she dropped back down. “I-I think something is broken,” she whispered. The little elf suddenly turned into a terrifying drill sergeant. Narcissa wanted to laugh at the serious expression on her face as she pointed imperiously at each lingering elf and assigned them a chore to help their Mistress.

 

When every other elf had scattered, she turned back to Narcissa and smiled gently. “Missy Malfoy just lay for a bit longer. We is getting her help.”

 

Narcissa frowned. “Help? From where?” Who would dare to help the wife of Lucius Malfoy?

 

“Siggy is telling Polly to fire call Professor Snape at young Master Draco’s school,” the little house elf said proudly.

 

Narcissa couldn’t form words for a moment. “Y-you called Severus?” she whispered, a forbidden thrill running through her body at the thought. The house elf nodded. “You said Siggy. Is that your name?” Another nod. Narcissa sighed and rested her head on her arm. “Well, Siggy, I doubt very seriously if Severus will answer your call. He and Lucius aren’t exactly friends.”

 

“Siggy knows, Missy Malfoy,” came a strangely harsh tone for such a sweet looking creature. “That is why Siggy is calling him. ‘The enemy of an enemy is your friend’.” She said solemnly. Narcissa nearly laughed again at hearing Lucius’ gospel quoted from the lips of a ‘lesser being’.

 

“All right, Siggy,” she felt the world spiraling away from her again. “Whatever you think is best. I trust you.” She realized as she dropped off that she’d never said that to anyone before. It seemed strange that she chose to say it now to something that wasn’t even human. Though, perhaps not. Being human only seemed to cause hurt.

________________________________________________________________________________

 

Snape wanted to scream. He wanted to rail at the unfairness of it all. He wanted to step back in time and prevent what Narcissa had gone through. Mostly, though, he wanted to find Lucius and beat the bloody fucking hell out of him. He settled for directing a Malfoy house elf to open the doors of the Great Hall for him.

 

When he’d answered the fire call, he’d been rather irritated to be disturbed just before lunch…one of the few times in the day that he didn’t have to deal with whining students. He’d snapped at the trembling house elf, demanding a reason for his insolence. The elf…Polly? had begged in a shaky voice for the great Professor to come post haste to the Malfoy Manor.

 

Great Professor aside, he informed the shivering elf that he was busy at the moment. Perhaps the Master and Mistress would be kind enough to schedule in advance the next time. He’d been just about ready to turn away when the little elf began hysterically crying. With a sigh, he turned back. “Fine,” he snapped. “Out of the way, you bloody nuisance!” And he flooed through to the Manor.

 

As soon as he appeared, a veritable army of house elves accosted him, shoving him into Lucius’ study. He was too startled at their actions to retaliate and by the time he’d gathered his wits about him, he was staring down at the mangled body of his beloved Narcissa. Choking back the urge to gag, he carefully checked her over. Alive, he sighed in relief, but barely.

 

Gently, he gathered the woman into his arms and looked down at the house elf that’d hovered at his elbow despite his order for them to clear the room. “I am taking your Mistress to Hogwarts,” he informed her. “She is too badly hurt for me to do anything for her here. If Lucius comes back, do not tell him where she is. Is that clear?”

 

He was once again surprised when the little elf pulled herself up and placed her hands on her hips. “Siggy is going with Missy Malfoy,” she stated firmly. “Siggy is telling the elves to pack Missy Malfoy’s belongings. We is coming with her. She is not coming back here. She is going to Master Draco.”

 

Severus blinked slowly, then realized that he didn’t care one way or another what the elf did. His primary concern was the delicate, dying flower in his arms. With an abrupt nod, he apparated both himself and Narcissa to the gates of Hogwarts. Dozens of smaller pops echoed around him and he noticed that he was once again surrounded by house elves, some bearing small packages that he could only assume were Narcissa’s shrunken belongings.

 

A pair of Malfoy house elves shoved the doors open and Severus strode through the Hall, ignoring the hundreds of eyes on him and his small burden. He only had eyes for Madam Pomfrey. The medi-witch’s eyes widened and she raced from the head table down the aisle.

 

Draco turned along with everyone else as the doors crashed open. He stared in amazement as Professor Snape stood framed in the oak of the doors and the bodies of dozens of house elves. Then he noticed the slight frame in Snape’s arms. His fork dropped and he felt a scream forming in his throat. He knew he must have made some kind of sound, because all the Gryffindors pulled their eyes from Snape to look at him.

 

“Draco?” he vaguely heard Harry’s voice in his ear. “Draco?”

 

“Mum?” he answered in a tiny whisper. Harry jerked beside him and turned back to look at the body. Bright, blonde hair under the caked blood, dress robes-though torn and dirty. Could it be Narcissa Malfoy? “Mum!” Draco screamed, launching himself out of his seat. He skidded to a halt a few feet from Snape and just stared. He felt a hand on his arm again.

 

“Mr. Malfoy, please…let me by,” Madam Pomfrey said calmly. “I need to tend to her.” The house elves parted like the sea and moments later, Pomfrey was leading all and sundry back out through the doors and down to the infirmary.

 

Draco watched in a daze as the horde moved out of the Great Hall. He stared long after the doors swung shut. Finally, he slowly turned his head…facing the Slytherin table. With measured steps, he advanced on the seventh years’ section and came to a halt in front of his former clique. “I was willing to sit on the sidelines and let you be,” he began in a voice so cold that shivers ran up the spines of many in the Hall.

 

“I would have sat back and let you do whatever you needed to do to preserve your family, even if that meant losing each one of you to the Dark. Believe it or not, I remember family loyalty. Apparently, however…my father does not.” He clenched his fists as he spoke and several sets of eyes darted to them. “I know he did this,” Draco continued. “Anyone else would have just crucio’d her and been done with it. This was far too personal. This was a message.”

 

Draco’s lip curled into a sneer. “Well, you may tell him that I’ve received his message, and if he ever attempts to deliver another message through the same venue, that I will kill him.” Not a soul, at that moment, had a doubt in their minds that Draco was deadly serious. “Please inform my father that he may begin proceedings in the matter of my disinheritance. I will gladly sign anything he needs, providing he never sets foot in my sight again.”

 

With that, Draco walked away. As he moved past the Gryffindor’s table, he shot a pleading glance at Harry. The dark haired boy nodded and fell into step beside him, and together, they made their way to the infirmary.

_________________________________________________________________________

 

Snape stood in the doorway, watching her with a slight smile. The years had been good to Narcissa Black. She was as beautiful now as she had been when he fell in love with her nearly 20 years ago. Before Lucius, before Voldemort, before…well, before everything that was bad in his life occurred. He hadn’t begrudged her a marriage to Malfoy. It was a sound partnership. The Black’s and the Malfoy’s. She had been well taken care of, financially. She had wanted for nothing.

 

~Nothing except affection. ~ his mind kept pointing out. He kept his eyes on her as she laughed at a joke from one of Pomfrey’s many patients. How could anyone not want to see her smile? To see her laugh? To love her…hold her…comfort her? He cursed Lucius again with every cell in his body. The money wasn’t worth it, he knew. Narcissa never really gave a rat’s arse about the money. She was interested in the security, the safety that a name like Malfoy could provide her.

 

She wanted to be wrapped in the warm cocoon of family. Snape snorted quietly. Warm was quite possibly the antithesis of the Malfoy nature. The only thing Narcissa Black got out of that marriage was her son. And he was her son. Snape was well pleased when he’d heard of Draco’s words to his ‘fellow’ Slytherins. The boy had always loved his mother. Perhaps too much, willing to follow blindly in Lucius Malfoy’s footsteps to protect her. But really, Snape couldn’t blame him for trying to protect the only person who’d ever shown him love.

 

The boy had nearly lost his mind when he’d barreled into the infirmary to see his mother. He seemed caught between weeping and raging. Snape knew the feeling well. Snape had calmed himself by quietly taking Narcissa’s hand and holding on gently as Pomfrey worked on the rest of her body. The potions master was surprised to see Draco do the same with Harry Potter, of all people.

 

The Golden Gryffindor had entered in a less flamboyant manner, standing beside Draco giving silent support as the Slytherin howled about the injustice of it all. He’d been the one to initiate the handhold when it looked as if Draco might knock Madam Pomfrey out for causing Narcissa to moan in her sleep. It was Harry Potter who wrapped slight arms around Draco’s waist and pulled him into a chair to wait for Pomfrey to finish her work.

 

And it was Harry Potter who took Draco by the hand again to lead him back to his room when Madam Pomfrey told him he could do nothing by lurking about the infirmary and he was distracting his mother’s healing process. Somehow, Snape knew it was also Harry Potter that held Draco as he broke down and cried for his broken mother.

 

~Look at her now, though. ~ he smiled again as she moved from the young student’s side, still laughing, and spotted him. Her smile increased, if possible, and she made a beeline for him.

 

“Severus,” she kissed his cheek in welcome. “What are you doing down here?”

 

Snape tried to calm the butterflies that always appeared when she was near. “It’s nearly lunchtime and I was wondering if you would like to share the midday meal with me in my quarters.”

 

Narcissa looked delighted. “I’d love to! Let me tell Poppy where I’m headed to and I’ll be right with you.”

 

He nodded and let her go. She still walked with a slight limp, thanks to a leg broken in so many places Poppy nearly decided to remove the bone altogether and start over with a skelegro potion. It was the only physical reminder left of that day several weeks ago when his world changed. She’d taken quite a long time to heal, and with the physical therapy for her leg, she’d been confined to the infirmary for longer than expected.

 

Dumbledore approached her soon after she began the therapy and asked her what her plans were for the near future. He stated that Lucius had gone underground as soon as word got out of Narcissa’s rescue and that no one had been to the manor in days. With a confident voice, Narcissa gave permission for the Ministry of Magic to search the Malfoy Manor and confiscate anything untoward.

 

She also formally requested to be stationed as an assistant Mediwitch, something she found she excelled at during her hours of boredom locked in the infirmary. Dumbledore smiled his enigmatic smile and twinkled his damndable twinkle and a few days later, Narcissa Malfoy was stationed in rooms on the second floor along with her son.

 

She shared with the ministry all of the secret hiding places that only a Malfoy could enter and offered up all the information she could remember about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. She specifically requested Arthur Weasley to head the search of the Manor and offered a heartfelt apology for his treatment at the hands of Malfoy and his ilk.

 

Although Snape could have done without that final bit, he was very proud of his…of Narcissa. He watched her limping back to him, a beautiful smile on her face, and he mentally shook his head. No, he was very proud of his Narcissa.

_________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Molly Weasley sat at the end of the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, humming to herself as she knitted the beginnings of a baby blanket. She’d been horrified to hear of the circumstances around Harry’s pregnancy, but delighted that he seemed to be taking it so well. With Arthur gone to investigate that horrible Malfoy Manor, she decided to take a bit of time to come and visit her adopted son and make sure he was taking care of himself.

 

A scuff of a shoe alerted her to another presence and she looked up with a smile. A smile that quickly disappeared as she saw Narcissa Malfoy standing in the entryway. She nodded abruptly and went back to her knitting, her song forgotten.

 

She mentally sighed as she heard the uneven clickity click of Narcissa’s shoes making way to her table. Sure enough, expensive pumps stopped directly in front of her. Molly raised her head. “Can I help you?”

 

Narcissa smiled…shyly? No, it couldn’t be. “May I sit with you, Molly?” she asked.

 

Molly pasted a smile on her face in return and nodded. “If you like.” Narcissa eased herself onto the bench across from her and folded her hands together on the tabletop. Molly went back to knitting. She had nearly forgotten the other woman’s presence; so quiet was she, that she started a bit when Narcissa reached out to touch the ball of yarn.

 

“It’s lovely,” she commented. “What are you making?”

 

Molly paused. “A blanket for Harry’s baby,” she answered a tad coldly. Narcissa nodded and fell silent again. Molly began knitting, her hands not quite so steady.

 

“I used to tat.”

 

Molly looked up again in surprise. “Really? I would have thought it was too…” she let her voice die away and then noticed the wry smirk on Narcissa’s face.

 

“Too muggle for me?” She shook her head. “Racial superiority was Lucius’s cause, Molly, not mine.” She gazed sadly at the yarn, her fingers barely touching it. “If I’d had my way, I would have been a mediwitch, or an herbologist.” She chuckled wryly, “Or anything, really, except the subjugated showpiece wife of a notorious Death Eater.”

 

She folded her fingers together again but didn’t raise her eyes.

 

Molly cleared her throat, self-consciously. “So, er…what kind of things did you tat?” she asked, rather lamely.

 

Narcissa smiled and looked up. “Pretty much anything. I did all of the tablecloths and runners and doilies in the Manor.”

 

Molly’s eyes widened. “Did Lucius know?”

 

Narcissa laughed, ringing off of the walls in the echoey room. “Dear Merlin, no! He would have had an apoplectic fit. I brought them with me and told him they were family heirlooms. It did my heart good to know that Lord All-powerful Arsehole Malfoy sat surrounded by the muggle made proof that his wife put one over on him.”

 

Molly chuckled. “Good for you, dear.” They fell into silence again, but the cold stilted feeling was gone. “So, is tatting very different from knitting?” She asked.

 

Narcissa’s face lit up and she shook her head. Reaching out to another ball of yarn in Molly’s bag she hesitated. “May I?” Molly nodded and Narcissa pulled out the ball and transfigured it into thread. She then pulled out an extra pair of knitting needles and transfigured them to tatting hooks.

 

An hour later, when the students began pouring in, they found Narcissa Malfoy and Molly Weasley laughing like girls half their ages, surrounded by wads of yarn and thread. Draco entered behind Harry and Ginny and nearly caused a pile up as he froze in the doorway. The Gryffindors eyed him curiously, but moved into their seats without comment to begin the day.

 

Ron and Ginny bounded up to Molly and kissed her on the cheek before heading off further down the table to join the others. Draco watched Mrs. Weasley’s face light up in a smile at the affection from her two youngest and saw his own mother’s smile become a bit sad and forced. In that instant, he made a decision that was so totally unMalfoy that it scared him. Gently pushing Harry to accompany Hermione, he made his way to the head of the table.

 

“Good morning, Mrs. Weasley,” he nodded politely.

 

“Good morning, Draco,” she chirped back.

 

He turned his attention to his golden mother, sitting so beautifully…and yet so alone. He smiled genuinely and tenderly at her. “Good morning, Mum,” he said quietly and leaned down to kiss her perfect cheek. “You’re looking lovely today. That robe accentuates your pretty eyes.” His heart lightened as he saw the telltale sheen form in his mother’s eyes before he turned away.

 

He sat down next to Harry. As he reached for his plate, he noticed the Gryffs watching him with pleased grins and he couldn’t stop himself from looking back at his mother. Molly had reached across the table and was holding one of Narcissa’s hands tightly as the blonde woman had the other one covering quivering lips. The approving nod he was accorded from Molly Weasley made him prouder in that moment than all of the praise of 16 years he’d received from his father.