test the limits .

WHAT I OWE:

CURRENT:

THE DAYS FELT LONGER, SOMEHOW, NOW THAT THE WAR WAS GROWING DARKER. Day by day, Narcissa found herself genuinely wanting to help. Not just for Draco, but for the people who she’d gotten to know in the Order. For Ted, even, a man who she would’ve once said she hated. Now, seeing the gentle way he held Nymphadora’s hand; seeing how he kissed Andie’s temple, it was all just fear holding a tight grip on her heart. No more, she’d decided, although, she did, of course, have quite a bit of it lingering in her bones.

She supposed, in the end, she could only do so much to keep it at bay.

It helped, though, knowing her family surrounded her again. For the first time in her life, Nrcissa felt as if she had people to turn to; help around every corner. It was both baffling and exquisite all at the same time. As if summoning one of them, the doorbell rang and Cissa soon came face to face with none other than Regulus Black. “I was wondering when you’d show,” she teased, carefully opening the door for him. “I even have your favorite brewed. If only I’d applied myself in divination, I’d have a whole other career path on my hands.”

Marlene trained her eyes on the other woman as she spoke, sceptical about her claims. She knew what those pureblood families were like and she knew enough about Sirius to know about the Blacks specifically and to a limit she could sympathise. She understood how a child might be too scared to defy their parents but she could never understand how a full grown adult could play along with those blood purity ideals. She contemplated the story of Narcissa’s life and her apparent acting skills with a cool gaze. “I don’t believe you.” 

Marlene shook her head slightly at the idea she’d stayed for her child. It didn’t make sense to her to keep her child in the very environment she claimed was so repressive. “You could have left and brought him with you at any time, but you stood by your despicable husband. Until the end. You exposed your child to that bullshit too. You say your parents forced you to believe, but then you did exactly the same thing to your son by keeping him there with Malfoy? Stop lying.” Marlene couldn’t understand that world, even if she was pureblood. Her parents had encouraged her to speak out and stand up for herself and so, like with Peter, it was difficult to comprehend someone who wouldn’t do that. 

Narcissa’s tears did not effect Marlene’s questioning. If the woman was claiming to be a superb actress then Marlene would believe her enough to dismiss the tears. Her explanation of what she’d done to help in the war actually made Marlene laugh out loud. “You didn’t realise how fucked up it was until then? You went years hearing about how your husband murdered and tortured muggles and you didn’t realise it was wrong until you thought about your son?” Marlene could throw many insults her way - self-obsessed, cruel, completely idiotic - but she managed to keep them locked away for now instead repeating - “I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you helped Harry at the end, but I don’t buy this innocent uninvolved sheep bullshit. You knew what the Death Eaters were doing. Your husband and sister were doing horrific acts of war. And you did nothing. If you weren’t ok with that, how did you justify it to yourself? How did you justify letting your son grow up around those people?”

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Narcissa let the other woman talk, let her say all the words that were on her mind; all the words that she was certain a vast majority of the people in this very building were thinking about her. She, sometimes, thought of it, early on in the war when Lucius started to bend and change and break under the Dark Lord’s pressure. He wasn’t always so terrible; so spineless. But, there were also parts of him that she would hide away; parts Narcissa wouldn’t dare look at because she was afraid she might see it in the mirror herself.

When Marlene was done, Narcissa pulled the sweater she had on tighter around her shoulders, fingers disappearing beneath the sleeves. It was in an effort to feel better, to feel less uncomfortable, but it felt wrong somehow. Like hiding. So, her shoulders rested backwards, spine upright, and she met Marlene’s eyes as she spoke again.

“You’re right,” she said, simply. “I could’ve left, although it would have been a miserable life. One on the run. Lucius would never have stopped looking for us; I didn’t have anywhere else to go. But you’re right, I could have left. Taken some money in the night and run away. I regret not choosing that, sometimes.” 

A wave of her hand followed those words and she met Marlene’s eyes. “I’m not saying I deserve praise for what I did because I did it much too late. But, we do what we can in the moments to protect those we care about. We do what we think is best. Lesser of two evils, I suppose. For me, that was giving Draco a childhood. Until he joined Hogwarts, the war was quite over, you see. There were whisperings the Dark Lord would come back, and I was naive to think I could get him away from that world before then. I couldn’t, of course.”

 And she leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “I heard about your family, when they were... That fear you must’ve felt in the moment? I lived with that. Every day. One wrong step and suddenly Draco would be on the ground, a wand to his temple. And, perhaps the worst of it was, it was often my own sister. Maybe I should have left; maybe I should have risked it. But to defy either of them meant my head. My son’s head. That was a risk I couldn’t take, no matter what it might make me. Complacent; cruel; evil, even. I couldn’t risk my son. He was the only piece of goodness I had left. What would you have done, Marlene? To save your family? It’s what I did. And I was constantly moving pieces to keep the two of us alive.”

She swallowed then leaning back and shaking her head. “And now? Well, all of that was for nothing, wasn’t it? In theory. He’s gone, Draco, and I’m here, in this bloody house coat that prickles since it’s not made of silk. You can tell me you don’t believe me, but truthfully, there’s not much to believe. I’m not telling you I was a good person. I did what I could to survive, and in the end I might’ve made one good decision. Somehow, it placed me here with you. Quite frankly, I don’t think I deserve that. I’ve never considered myself good, but if it means I can fight so that no child has to deal with what my son went through, then that’s what I have to hold onto. If not for my own sanity. I’m always selfish, you see, in the end.”

Gideon had begun to slowly spend more and more time outside of his flat. Upon his return it seemed he had been unable to leave without worry over suddenly disappearing again constantly on his mind. He was starting to accept that life might be a permanent thing for him or at least as permanent as it could be. Relationships that he had been avoiding rebuilding were becoming more important to him and time was of the essence to make the most of his life while he still had it. 

He hadn’t meant to wander near the ice cream shop. He had meant to go to the pet store to pick up supplies for Pippin but he had gotten lost in his head and wandered too far down the street. People around him were staring but not at him. He followed the many looks to see Narcissa sitting at a table with her ice cream. A small smile came to his lips as they made eye contact. He was unsure about his feelings towards her. He hadn’t liked her much when he had lived the first time but perhaps things had changed now. She was inviting him over to join her and before he could think his feet started moving towards her. 

He sat across from her accepting the spoon. “Thank you. You seem to draw quite the crowd. Do people just stare at you all the time? You would think they would have something better to do with their time.” He was sure he wouldn’t be out and about too often if he was stared at this much. She didn’t seem too bothered though so perhaps it was just normal for her. He supposed she was pretty enough to stare at anyway. “What kind of ice cream did you get? They have an ear wax and coconut kind here I believe though I have to wonder who would order it.”

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Kindness was so rare these days, but if she were being honest, it had been rare her whole life. Narcissa had never known goodness, unless you counted Andie, who was, inherently, quite good. No, she’d grown up around evil and carelessness and broken consciences. There wasn’t any right or wrong, only what was selfish; only what wasn’t tarnished gold. Narcissa was still getting used to the fact that the people she would associate now were actually good; talking not to gain something, but to get to know you better.

It was her first reaction to bristle at Gideon’s line of questioning, of course, even if she were used to the eyes on her. But, he was prying. Entering a life that she didn’t know if people were allowed inside quite yet. “I suppose it comes with the territory,” she said, taking another bite of ice cream. “You know, pureblood princess turned mad woman. Quite the headline. I’m almost surprised Skeeter didn’t make a field day out of it.” Of course, she was relieved too. That kind of attention felt unwarranted these days. The first time around, she would’ve relished in the news; the gossip; people looking at her and thinking she was something, even if it was something she didn’t want. 

Now? Cissa preferred peace. And absolute quiet. She wasn’t going to get that, of course, but it was a dream she never quite thought she’d dream.

“Oh, nothing quite that... eccentric,” she shook her head. “I prefer the lavender and earl grey teas with the popping sprinkles. It’s what... Well, I suppose we keep our childhood addictions, don’t we?” Narcissa held out the cup to him, waving a hand to produce a second spoon, which she flipped around for him to grab. 

Peter was quiet, thinking over Narcissa’s words. He figured she was right, of course; if any of the Death Eaters remembered, then they’d have come after them by now. Especially if it were the one who’s lived past the first war and into the second. But hearing that only Hagrid would know what Narcissa did, well, it did make her seem like she was safer than him, at least. “What you did?” He asked after a moment, not understanding, but curious.

It was her words about him having not had a child that made him flinch slightly. While of course it was true, there was an ache in his chest at the words. Couldn’t have a child if you’d never had love, could you? It was something he’d come to realize that even in this new timeline, he’d never experience other than through hearing others be happy. Perhaps it would always be that way for him.

Gently, Peter reached out to put his hand on her arm as he listened to her words. “I’m sorry,” He spoke softly then, heart aching as he watched her look away, wishing he could do something to help her. “I’m sorry that you can’t have him this time…” he added, feeling bad but not sure what else he could say, “I guess some things in this time have to be different, in order to make the world safer…”

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His question was a bit of an arrow to the heart; a reminder that she had betrayed those closest to her back then. A reminder that no one here would believe her, when she said it out loud. A deep breath followed the small shock, and she smiled, sadly. “Ah,” she said, nodding ever so slightly. “I forgot. You were already gone.” They walked in silence for a moment before she clicked her tongue and looked over at him. “I suppose you weren’t the only one to grow a spine, in the end.”

Or, now, Narcissa supposed it was rather like a beginning. A new start. Fresh and clean and wholly different. Her heart ached for the days of the past, for her son. “It’s not your fault,” she said, gently placing a hand on top of his, although grateful for the kindness. No one else had stopped to think about her loss, no one but Andromeda. So it was nice to know not everyone in this house hated for her. 

“I’ll do anything if it means... if it means children do not have to win this war for us,” she said, voice full of determination. It was a rare sight, she supposed, seeing her full of such goodness. It felt strange, for her, to know that she meant what she said. Her eyes flickered to his and she shrugged. “Even if that means giving him up. I mean, I obviously already did that... There’s, well, there’s nothing I can do about it now.” 

The Ministry was still brimming with tension. Narcissa knew she should leave; she should find the nearest fireplace and floo home. Still, her feet were taking her in another direction; as fast as they could go, heels clicking on soiled floors. It wasn’t long before she spotted him, dark hair reflecting in the dim light of the broken Ministry. She didn’t realize how many steps she’d taken, only that she had and her arms were around his neck, and she was pulling his head down into the crook of her neck like she used to when they were younger. Like she used to with Draco. 

Narcissa used to care so bloody much about what others thought about her, but now, as she sat here with Sirius in her arms, she didn’t care. Salazar, that thought was freeing, wasn’t it? To know that you, for the first time in your whole life, were free from the shackles of other’s judging eyes. Pulling away, she scanned his face, looking for any sort of cut or bruise; scrape or pain. “Are you alright?” she asked, quietly, wanting nothing more than to accio a blanket and a hot cup of tea.

The question was wrong, she knew. He wasn’t alright. She could see it in his eyes, the same way that she could see it in Draco’s. How similar they were, despite being so estranged from one another. Seeing Sirius now, she saw bits of Draco in him, in the way his eyebrow twitched; the way his hair fell shaggily into his face. Despite the Malfoy’s signature blonde hair, they might’ve been mistaken for brothers, she realized with a start. 

She’d sent him an owl last night and still hadn’t heard.

It was a fact that worried her, both because she feared something had happened to him, and that their small allegiance had been lost. A pot of coffee was steaming on the counter when the knock on the door startled her from her chair. Jumpy wasn’t the first word she’d use to describe herself, but recently, everything little sound had her flying from her seat in anticipation of some kind of attack. It had been like this, at the end. Lucius had many enemies, all of them hers by default. Back then, she’d put so many charms up around Draco’s room that she’d been exhausted from the effort. Now, Nymphadora occupied her thoughts, but she wouldn’t dare do anything without Andy’s permission. Not when she was staying here of her and Ted’s good will. 

Gathering herself, Narcissa found herself peeping through the window at who might be outside, and her heart soared at the sight of Severus. She hadn’t asked him to come, but Salazar did it feel good to know he was okay. “Are you alone?” she asked, once the door was open, and once she had confirmed that he was, she brought him inside and scanned him, careful not to show just how much she cared. No. She had to keep those feelings inside; what if she were to lose anyone else? What if he were to perish much sooner this time around? “You’re alright, I take it? An answer to my owl would’ve been much appreciated.”

It hadn’t been long since Dumbledore had interrogated her, and still Narcissa felt a sense of unease. The other Order members didn’t trust her, rightfully so, and she didn’t trust them. It was a game of back and forth that she no longer wished to play; a game that, despite being free, found her in Diagon, carefully disguised as she was still not quite welcome in society as of yet. Alastor Moody was the only person she knew that the Order members would trust wholeheartedly. The only person that she, despite not being part of this group for long, understood was like the second in command. 

If anyone could change people’s minds about her, it was him.

Then again, wining someone over who quite frankly hated you, was another story in itself. He walked down the cobblestone path of Diagon, and she held his favorite food in a bag by her side, sidling up next to him and holding it up. “I’ve heard you have a preference for sweet treats,” she said, knowing well that he would recognize her despite the hood. “Any chance you have a minute or two to talk?”

Blunt and straight to the point. Marlene decided she liked the woman, despite her and her husband’s reputation. There was no point in pretending to be friends when they both knew why she was here, and she followed Narcissa out into the fresh air. It wasn’t the place Marlene would have chosen for an interrogation, nor the conditions. She couldn’t entirely trust what Narcissa had to say without a vial of veritaserum handy, but she liked to think she knew enough from Peter’s interrogation to work out where her story diverged from the truth. 

“You said you helped The Order - how? From Peter’s version of events you weren’t spying alongside him and I’m not sure I believe you married a Malfoy just to get into that inner circle. No offense, but you couldn’t pay me a million galleons to fuck your husband and I don’t think you’re good enough of an actress to fake it for so long.”

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Marlene was, in a strange way, much like her. Straight-edged; to the point. There wasn’t much room for pleasantries which, Narcissa was more than grateful for. She didn’t need to ask Marlene about her day. Not when she was about to ask about her entire life. A deep breath followed her question, and she couldn’t help but let loose a small laugh at the statement the other woman ended with. “McKinnon,” she said, simply, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re Sacred 28 but without any of the torment. Without the balls and the watchful eyes and the poking and prodding. My whole life, from the moment I was born, Marlene, I was watched and picked at and carefully sculpted to be anything I wasn’t. I don’t need to justify what happened to me, but to think I wasn’t an actress, well... You’re simply incorrect. I acted well enough to earn a Muggle award from the time I was two.”

It was sad, maybe, but that was how her life was. A painting in a frame, never allowed to change unless told to do so. “It’s my fault, in the end. I allowed the act to continue. But what you have to understand, was I had a child. A child that... I couldn’t abandon. Not with that wreck of a father. Draco was what kept me tied to the spot. My anchor, in both the best and worst ways.” The tears were coming, and, never one to cry in front of someone else, Cissa paused to push it away. “I didn’t marry a Malfoy to do some deep undercover work, but I never... I never truly cared about any of the bullshit he spouted. Or anything my parents tried to force me to believe. It was convenient, and that was perhaps my crime, to go along as if it were that way. And then, like I said, I had Draco.”

Narcissa didn’t know, really, how Marlene would take anything she was saying. It was strange to even admit it. “I didn’t help until the end. Until Harry Potter was on his death’s bed, and I saw my... I saw my own son laying there. And I just knew then. It clicked, I suppose, when I saw a child fighting an adult fight.” She closed her eyes, remembering that moment all too clearly. “Rubeus Hagrid could corroborate, if he remembers. He was there. But of course, I was surrounded by other Death Eaters otherwise. The Dark Lord thought he’d killed Harry, and sent me to confirm. I told him he was, when he wasn’t. And then he... well, the Dark Lord didn’t live to see the next day, anyways.”

Peter couldn’t help the slight shiver at Narcissa’s words. The thought of the ‘others’, of Bellatrix, or the Lestrange Men, or worse yet, Voldemort himself, remembering everything, was a terrifying one. But one he knew couldn’t be real, because they would have come after him, wouldn’t they? He’d be targeted, and it wasn’t like Bellatrix or any of the others truly knew restraint. If anything, it had to be true that they didn’t remember.

“It is strange,” He agreed softly after a moment, “I.. I don’t think they’re acting. I don’t think they remember, and I have to pray that they don’t, and never will. If any of them remember, if they…” He took a shaky breath and quickly shook his head again as another shiver went through him. No, it couldn’t happen, he thought, there was no way, because it would only end in disaster for all of them.

“You don’t think you can be happy?” He asked her after a moment, tilting his head just slightly as he thought about it, though found himself almost agreeing, in his own way. After all they’d done, would anyone want them to be happy? “Freedom is a start, I think,” He hummed, “Once we’re free, all of us… then we can focus on the next step.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

A part of her felt almost relieved that he felt the same way; that they were trapped in some strange limbo, and if their choices were deemed unworthy, they’d be sent back to the past. Maybe that would get her Draco back, but it would also put him in a life of trauma... And there was no guarantee here. If she died this time, would it be real? Because, unlike most of the others, she hadn’t died. At least, she didn’t think. The thought of what had really happened felt overwhelming, and Narcissa wished they had more answers, and less questions.

“I think they would have come after one of us by now,” she said, shrugging ever so slightly. “Although, no one else but Hagrid would know what I did...” And she didn’t know if the giant would remember like they all did; Dumbledore played his cards close to his chest, and when she’d mentioned him, she knew that it could’ve gone either way. 

She glanced at him when he asked that question and shook her head. “It’s silly, maybe, but you’ve never had children,” a sad smile forced itself on her lips. “You have someone... someone that’s your whole world for eighteen years, and then--And then you’re put in a position where you know you’ll never see them again. They didn’t die, and yet they’re gone. Simply no trace. Not even their bedroom has an inch of them.” Her eyes were bubbling with tears and she looked away from him for a moment, trying to collect herself and failing. “It’s quite frankly hard to imagine a world where I’m happy without him. And for now that has to be alright, because it can’t be what matters most.”

where: tonks family home when: 22nd april, early morning who: @ncrcissam​

So much had changed since Ted had woken back in this time that it was hard to keep track of sometimes. But no matter how strange things had been he never thought that the biggest change would be him having to get used to his having his wife’s sister around. Though he tried his best to be polite, and in most cases just avoid her all together, he couldn’t help the unease he felt every time he saw Narcissa. He could believe Andromeda when she said that her sister had changed sides and that she wasn’t like the rest of Voldemort’s followers. And he knew that she had been through a lot. But that didn’t change the fact that the company she had kept in her previous life had been people who had killed him with no remorse.

Still, he was trying his best to be alright with it. At least for Andromeda’s sake. He would never deny her the chance of having her sister back in her life. He could put on a polite smile and make small talk for a short period of time  before he made up some excuse to leave the woman’s company. Yet his heart still sank when he saw her walking into his kitchen and he had to fight his instinct to tell her to leave. He knew it wasn’t fair on her. And he tried to mask how he felt but forcing himself to smile in her direction.

“There’s fresh coffee if you want some.” He said and motioned towards the pot he had just poured himself a cup from. Silently he cursed the fact that he had the day off today. Usually he would make up some excuse that he needed to go in early or had paperwork that he needed to work on before he left. Instead he had nothing to do today but go and vote and they weren’t leaving for another couple of hours. So instead he sat there awkwardly trying to think of something to say. “Are you going to be voting today?” He asked finally. It was a poor attempt at conversation but he didn’t know her well enough to ask anything else. And a part of him felt bad for that. 

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Andromeda’s house, despite it all, felt more like home than any place she’d ever lived. Even with Ted’s presence, she finally felt like she was free to be herself; to move about in a way that wouldn’t be constantly watched. Even in the Malfoy home, she never felt as though she could breathe. Always a guest or a house elf; always Lucius with those piercing blue eyes. A part of her missed them, but mostly because they reminded her of Draco. 

At least here, she could breathe; she could wear pants without getting looked at strangely. Her mother once lectured for three hours after she showed up to an important work event in a pantsuit; a horrible tirade that was both in front of people, her potential colleagues, and back at home. Of course, Ted was still there. A part of her was used to that kind of stare, the distrust. It came after Hogwarts, and it came now, from most people in the Order. Of course, for Andy she’d try, and she’d been trying but he hadn’t seemed particularly invested himself. Or, maybe, she wasn’t trying hard enough.

Narcissa was so used to running away from people, that running towards them made her stomach ache, just a bit.

Ted’’s voice pulled her from her reverie, and she nodded ever so slightly, “Thank you,” she said, awkwardly, a part of her wanting to make a joke that she could’ve guessed from the smell. But, they weren’t there yet, she didn’t think, and she didn’t want to ruin what might very well be their first conversation. As she poured herself a cup, Cissa leaned against the counter by the pot, trying to formulate an answer. “I was planning to,” she said, taking a deep breath. “I’m not sure I could stomach seeing Picknesse win a second time, although I doubt anyone’s voting for him this young. I’d vote Bones, but it feels a rather moot point for the same reason.” Not everyone remembered, of course, but Amelia was a strong leader. If she’d been given her tenure, Cissa always believed they’d be in good hands, even if they didn’t always agree on the same points. “Apologies, you didn’t ask me to give you a politics run-down. Are you? Voting, I mean.”

When: Morning 15th February 1979 Where: Order Safe House Who: @ncrcissam​

Marlene had barely had a lick of sleep since the explosion, rushing between hospital beds and patients, but there was one more thing she needed to do before finally resting. She had left Narcissa in Severus’ hands and could only assume that had made it back to the safe house, but it felt like she ought to check. Just in case. 

“Hello?” Marlene called out when she entered, gripping her wand in her pocket. Again, just in case.

She didn’t trust Narcissa. While there appeared to be more to her story that would lead Dumbledore to organise this entire rescue mission, Marlene had not been let in on these details and so it was impossible to know how she should view the other woman. Was she a reformed death eater? A spy? Had she always been one of them? 

“I came to check in after the mess that happened yesterday.” She had some burning questions too. Questions she needed answered. 

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The morning was full of visitors. Some for her, and others just bustling about the safe house to make sure it was prepared for those lucky occupants like herself. Luckily for Narcissa, she functioned quite well in the mornings, always making it a habit to start her day with the rise of the sun. It was no use wailing over lack of sleep, not today, anyways. She’d been trapped in that horrid prison with enough time to sleep. Her eyes were wide open.

After Andromeda left, she’d taken to the kitchen, watching as other wix started breakfast. The sound of a voice startled her from the moment, watching as two eggs sizzled on a pan over an open fire. Truthfully, cooking seemed rather complicated, but Narcissa had almost been sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason. She wanted to learn, hopefully soon

The McKinnon woman was almost a surprise; Narcissa had expected her to return sooner, but found quickly that the days of knowing what to expect were long gone. A nod of her head to a few of the other wix in the kitchen and she turned to Marlene with a nod of her head. “I appreciate it but I assume you’re not here to make sure I returned unscathed.” Narcissa started to walk, beckoning Marlene to follow. “The garden is rather a good spot for an interrogation, don’t you think?”

Peter nodded his head at the question, and let out a faint snort. “I can only imagine,” He stated softly, “She’s determined, like we all are, to change what happened and make it better. She wants to save her family, whatever it takes, and the first part of that is getting all the information you can, and deciding what to do with it, I think. All we’ve gotta do is tell the truth.” Which was terrifying, but also freeing at the same time. Peter hated the man he’d been, but at least admitting it all out, knowing they could change it, it had to mean something, didn’t it?

Still, Peter couldn’t help but hate it more that Narcissa had found him like that. His last memories hadn’t been good ones, and he could only imagine how it had looked for her. She was too nice, he thought at her words, but nodded his head in agreement. “We just have to do what we can to make things better, and make up for it,” He stated softly, pausing and then letting out a soft, almost surprised laugh at the thought. “I guess you’re right,” He agreed, “We’re still caged here, but it’s much nicer than the one there, and at least here, if we fight… we can eventually be free and happy, right?”

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Narcissa knew she couldn’t fault the McKinnon woman. Shed heard tales of what had happened, assumed the worst of the people who’d done it. While she never truly figured out who was involved, Narcissa had always suspected people she’d know. Bellatrix’s husband. Her own husband. She’d never found out, of course, never pried. Narcissa hadn’t fully joined the Death Eaters until the second war, when protecting Draco became more important than keeping the mark off her skin. Still, it was nice to know that Peter understood. Even a little. They were all fighting for the same cause now. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” She said quietly. “That we remember and the others don’t.”

By others, she of course meant the Death Eaters. “Then again, maybe they do and they’re hiding it. Still, if Bellatrix is acting… well, she’s properly convinced me.” It was a statement she’d only say to him, for now, afraid of what others might think if she were to bring up the woman who’d caused so much havoc. Peter had known her too. He’d never seen the good parts, only the unhinged ones, but he knew how Narcissa had cared for her despite it all.

“I’m not quite so certain about happy,” she said with a shrug. “But free? I think we’re at least one step closer.” A small smile lit up Narcissa’s face. Cautious, but bright, like a candle just taking to flame.

Andromeda hummed in sympathy. “Him or Moody. Or both. Probably both. Moody’s alright. A bit rough around the edges, but he’s a good man.”

Cissa’s smile made her heart ache with joy. It felt so good that something so simple could make her happy. “I remember that feeling. I was bloody useless when I moved in with Ted at first.” Her eyes crinkled in a slight wince, but she didn’t let that get to her. “Following a cooking recipe is not that much different from following a recipe in potions. And same as in potions, you eventually learn how to do some things by memory if you do them often enough.”

She took Narcissa’s hands gently in hers, squeezing them. “He doesn’t know you. He’ll be…he’ll be wary at first, but you’re my sister. He’ll come around. Particularly if Nymphadora’s already attached to you, which I know she will be soon enough.” Her thumbs ran over the backs of Cissa’s hands. She was just so glad she could. Narcissa was here, and she was safe. “I wish I could have, too. I was looking forward to it. But we can remember Draco and Teddy together, yeah?”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Oh, if he’s good he probably hates me,” Narcissa said, laughing ever so slightly. It was a strange thought, good versus evil. But, it was what their world had come to. Bad ideas and fear always created some kind of evil. It had in their home, anyways. “I promise to be nice. Mostly.”

At the thought of cooking, Narcissa’s nose crinkled of her own accord. Her mind went to Dobby and a part of her wondered if she could take him from the Malfoy manor. After all, she was still Mistress Malfoy, as far as she knew. Andromeda, of course, might not allow a house elf, but if she were to angle it right… Still, now was not the time. “You’ll have to teach me the difference between bread flour and cake flour, then. Do you remember those hippogriff shaped biscuits the elves would make when we’re little? I’d love to make them for Andromeda. Although, perhaps with a bit of practice.”

While she knew the pain she’d caused, the thought that Ted might not be happy with her return still hit home. A part of her wanted to remain guarded, but in this situation Narcissa knew she couldn’t. Not now. Not when she’d come so bloody far. “I’ll do my best to win him over,” she teased ever so slightly. “I don’t think my old tricks will work quite as well though. This lot is far too honest.” A sigh followed and she looked down at their hands. “I would like that very much.”

“She could have tried,” Emmeline drawled back, unable to hold back the burning resentment from trickling into her voice. Though, really, it wasn’t as if it was any kind of secret that she despised most of the Black family. Besides Sirius, Narcissa, and Andromeda, the whole lot them were nothing more than vile, elitist, blood supremacists that held no care for anyone outside of themselves and their own fucked desires. 

It’d been painfully evident, even from the start, that they hadn’t at all cared for her befriending their daughter – considering that she was a half-blood, to start – but, despite her plentiful of ill feelings towards them, they weren’t the sole factor in her and Narcissa’s relationship falling apart. But they were definitely part of it nevertheless, and that was more than enough. Losing her closest friend had been agonizing, her personal feelings aside. It was as though she’d lost a limb and had been left with nothing but an awful, phantom ache in its wake. 

… But for the first time in ages, in their little bubble inside of the safehouse, it felt as though it was finally beginning to mend. 

Emmeline watched, despondent, as Narcissa sank in on herself, her heart going out to her. “Don’t talk like that,” she chided said softly. “It was a long time ago, and we’re here now, aren’t we?” Things are different. We’ll make them different.” Kneeling down in front of the other woman, she offered her tender smile. “I do. Weirdly enough, despite everything, I knew. I know. And you know it’s the same for me, right?” 

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

The hatred for her mother made her feel tired. Exhausted, really. It was a feeling she knew all too well; a grief that never fully went away. They had all wanted a family, in the end, and all she and Andromeda and Bellatrix had were statues. Druella was nothing if not silent marble. Hogwarts was Narcissa’s escape; Emme her proof of goodness. A small shake of her head followed those words and Narcissa met her old friends eyes, confiding in her something she hadn’t even truly told Andromeda. “I’m almost certain she never learned the word. Not with Draco, my son… I thought his birth might help her see clearly but it clouded her vision further. They only met a handful of times in private.” It was the horrible truth, Narcissa realized, that she’d given her son a house but not a home. “She never found use in people except herself. And never could understand why I would need anyone else, either.”

Mother and daughter. Daughter and mother. Two sides of the same coin. Druella had always assumed ownership over Narcissa and for so long she’d allowed her to parade her around on a leash. For so long she’d allowed moments like these with Emmeline to pass her by. It was all so strange now; all turned on it’s head. And still she found herself wondering: what would Druella say now? What would she do if she knew the room in which Narcissa stood? The pain her mother had caused had worn away with age, but the loss of her best friend hadn’t entirely left her. A wound that never closed. A grief preserved, just like her grief over a mother she’d never had. It would be poetic if it wasn’t so bloody tragic.

“I don’t deserve that,” Narcissa said, honestly, knowing full well that her ego would take a blow. Still, Emme deserved the truth. Deserved to know how she’d felt all these years; that the decision to leave hadn’t truly been her own, even if she’d followed orders. “And you didn’t deserve it either. But I promise I won’t wallow, because I do understand. I do know. Although, I would never have really blamed you if you hated me after it all anyways.” A bitter laugh followed and she squeezed Emme’s hand. “You’re right. We’ll make it right. I’d like that, at the very least. To make it right. My son he…” Cissa paused, unable really to go much further without breaking, but she took an unsteady breath before continuing, “he didn’t have a childhood. I want to make sure if I ever have children again that they aren’t forced to listen to a madman with a wand.”

Alice didn’t like to distrust people. But, life experiences had sadly lead her to become more distrustful. Add the memories of the future to that, and well, Alice was strugging to trust anyone. She had a headful of memories of the future, where most of her friends didn’t live, and she and her husband lived out their days in St. Mungos. It was a frightful future, and it was one she didn’t want. It was making her most distrustful though, wondering at what point she could change things, or at what point she would fall into the same path she had before. It scared her.

“Dumbledore is never very upfront with his reasonings.” The blonde murmured with a shrug. She had trusted him because they had the same belief pattern. But, she was hoping that things would be different this time. She wasn’t going to sit down and let things go the way they had before. It hadn’t worked. They might have won, but they’d lost too much. Alice wasn’t willing to lose like that again. If she had her son, he would not live without his parents. That much Alice was determined off.

“I often say family is important….” She murmured, biting on her lip as she thought about it. She was lucky in a way. Her family had always be happy. The Fortescues had been great, and she’d adored the Longbottoms. “But sometimes family can also drag you down.” She sometimes thought that was maybe the tragedy that had struck the Blacks. “You have a chance to change the path now though….”

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

They were being led by a mad man, was the underlying message behind Alice’s words. Of course, Narcissa knew that she wasn’t exactly the person to be judging one’s character, but Dumbledore, and his secrets, seemed like the opposite of the strong leader that she’d come to expect. Dumbledore, despite his sayings and his occasional bits of madness, always felt so untouchable. And now? Well, it was quite terrifying to know that he might very well have as little of a clue as the rest of them. “If you don’t mind my asking,” Narcissa said, softly. “Doesn’t that drive you all a bit mad?” 

She might’ve laughed but instead, she sat down, letting her shoulders slump at the talk of Bellatrix. It was a strange topic, one that she hadn’t fully expected to take but now that she was here, it made sense. After all, she and Andromeda had never quite fit in with their family. Narcissa’s facade did well for her, but her heart had never been in it; had never been vicious. “I have a son, well, I suppose I had a son,” she said quietly, meeting Alice’s eyes. “And I’d like to be better for him. Or some version of him, if I have the chance.”

And it was nice, really, to be given the chance. Narcissa was never offered choices or chances or possibilities. She had one straight line that she learned to walk on, and if she were to fall of that impossible tightrope, it meant imminent doom. Now, sitting with Alice, it didn’t quite feel that way. Falling off the tightrope felt like freedom. “I suppose I just never thought I had a chance at all.”

All eyes were on Narcissa Malfoy.

She supposed that was normal. Narcissa was used to the eyes, but not the lingering stares, not the turned noses and the snorts of disgust. Still, if her mother had taught her anything (anything being a strong word), it was her sense of pride. Narcissa would stick to her decisions, whether or not it meant destruction for her public image. At least people didn’t seem to cower and run away, like they used to when she’d enter a room.

It was a strange feeling, not being hated. Or rather, not being feared. The ice cream cool in her hand, Narcissa allowed herself a moment to sit and watch them instead; sit and take in a world that had never been open to her. Ice cream in the middle of the afternoon? Well, Druella would have written a howler if she saw her now. It made her smile, just slightly. A small act of rebellion.

A familiar pair of eyes found hers, and she nodded her head to none other than Gideon Prewett, someone who she knew would also cause talk around the town just because she spoke to him. “Would you like to join me?” she asked, shaking her head. “I accidentally got a double scoop and there’s no chance I’ll finish the whole lot of it.” With a wave of her hand, another spoon appeared and she held it out to him, hoping that making friends was a part of this new life as well.