Amelia was baffled by this latest request from her Aurors. "As many Unspeakables as we can spare? Why?" she demanded.
"We found the Lost and Found," Auror Shacklebolt said, "and it looks like it hasn't been cleaned out for a thousand years."
"Hogwarts has a Lost and Found?" Amelia asked, turning to Dumbledore.
"I'm as surprised as you are," Dumbledore answered. "Normally, the house elves return anything they find if they can."
"What does this Lost and Found look like, Shacklebolt?" she said.
"It's as big as the Great Hall. Maybe bigger. We're worried about going too far into it, but from what we can see from the door, it looks like most of the space is taken up by piles of discarded furniture. I can also see stacks of mouldy books, piles of used cauldrons, cabinets of expired potions ingredients, a lot of student contraband, and pixies breeding in the rafters—and that's only the stuff I can identify."
Naturally, it was the stuff he couldn't identify that was most worrying, and if some of that stuff really was centuries old, there was no telling what could be in there. "Alright, I get the picture," Amelia said and sighed: "I'll go track down Croaker and tell him we need to call some teams away for the search. We'll send them with the first shift tomorrow."
"Got it, boss. We'll mark the spot and meet them here." Shacklebolt's head disappeared from the fireplace.
"First the horcruxes and now this," she muttered. "Not to mention disrupting the Ministry's business for a third day in a row. If we don't have a shake-up in the government after all this, we'll be lucky."
"We must all do the best we can, Amelia," Dumbledore said.
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Amelia entered her office the next morning to find piles of paperwork backed up on her desk. She sighed when she saw them. She'd put off most of the paperwork the last two days and it was quickly coming back to bite her. "Alright, Scrimgeour, what's the situation?" she asked.
Rufus Scrimgeour entered to give her her daily briefing. "Croaker's putting his team together now to check the Lost and Found," he said. "We brought in a bunch of stuff for the Lockhart file from his office. Can you believe he was wearing a wig the whole time?"
"I don't care. What else?"
"Professor McGonagall requested a couple of Unspeakables to investigate the alleged curse on the Defence Professorship."
"Sounds like a good idea to me. Forward it to Croaker. Anything else?"
"We're still building our case against Malfoy, so just the paperwork for the moment."
"Lovely. And refresh my memory: what is all this?"
"This stack, here, is the paperwork for the diversion of resources for the search," Scrimgeour said, pointing to one of the piles on her desk. "This stack is the paperwork for searching the castle and the students' chambers. This one is claims by students for possessions that weren't returned to them. You've got a list of illegal items confiscated from the castle over here. And this is the list of complaints you've got from Fudge as of this morning."
"Right. Keep up the search, then. Notify me of anything important."
"Yes, ma'am."
Scrimgeour left, and Amelia started sifting through her paperwork. The largest piles all just needed the same rubber stamp: there was a damn basilisk spotted at Hogwarts, so yes, they bloody well did have to drop everything and search through everybody's stuff. That was tedious, but not difficult. She set aside the memos from Fudge; he could wait. And she pushed aside the list of illegal items. Most illegal items students were likely to have would be small fish, and she only had staff to spare for the big fish just now.
Out of curiosity, she picked up the list of lost items claimed by the students. This sort of thing would never have reached her desk if Scrimgeour and every other Auror weren't busy with the rest of this mess. There were sure to be a few fraudulent claims, but teenagers usually weren't very bright about such things, and they could pick them out easily. But the list could still make for interesting reading—perhaps a little too interesting, as she found several worrisome line-items on it. These she took to Dumbledore for further investigation.
Albus Dumbledore was still in his Chief Warlock's offices, hovering over his blueprint of Hogwarts, which now had the areas of the castle that had been searched shaded off. Amelia noted that the pipes had been inked in, with valves marked where they had been cut off, so any basilisks couldn't get all around the castle by their usual routes.
"Good morning, Amelia," the Chief Warlock said when he spotted her. "It looks like our search is back on schedule. Can I help you?"
"I just need some clarification on a few things, Albus," she said, holding up the list. "I've got a request from Harry Potter saying that his invisibility cloak wasn't returned to him."
"It wasn't? Oh, dear. I should hope it won't be too hard to find."
"Probably not, but why does Potter have an invisibility cloak?"
"He inherited from his father," Dumbledore said, as if that explained everything.
Amelia gave him a stern look: "Do I really need to ask the next question?"
"The cloak is a Potter Family heirloom, which I allowed him to keep at school for his safety," he clarified.
"Fine job that's done," she muttered. "But if it's legally his, I can't bar him from getting it back. Okay, do you know Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle?"
"Yes, two Slytherin boys in second year. Why?"
"Those two were the only ones stupid enough to request we return their restricted dark artifacts to them. I'll have to at least fine them for possession—if I ever have the time."
Dumbledore looked divided between being mildly amused and concerned for his students. "I'll relay that to Severus," he said. "He'll probably be better to approach their families."
"Very well. Just make sure someone keeps an eye on them. And lastly, do you know a Luna Lovegood?"
"Luna Lovegood…first year Ravenclaw, I believe. Her father is the editor of The Quibbler."
"She gave us a long list of missing items—a lot more than any of the other students—and not much that was expensive, either. From the look of it, I'd say she's either a compulsive liar, or someone stole of lot of her stuff."
Dumbledore frowned with concern: "I do not know much about Miss Lovegood's own behaviour, so I would think the latter is more likely. I will ask Filius to look into it either way."
"Good. I'll have someone check if any of her things were dumped into storage here, but I can't make any promises."
With the students taken care of and her questioning of the witnesses to the Flourish and Blotts incident done, there were mercifully few surprises today, and she actually was able to get through her paperwork and find some time to work on her next most pressing priority besides the search of Hogwarts: the Malfoy case.
That was still very tricky. She had a lot of circumstantial evidence, but nothing ironclad—not quite. She needed an excuse to question the Malfoys about the basilisk incident directly before she could make a move on them without being crucified by the Minister's office. Fortunately, she had one more trick up her sleeve for that, which was why Amelia was glad when Auror Proudfoot came bursting into her office that afternoon.
"Jackpot, ma'am," he said. "I got that warrant to check the House Elf Registration Office for an elf named Dobby, like you wanted, and guess who owns him."
"Who?"
"Lucius Malfoy."
"Excellent," Amelia said with a wicked grin. "Get a team together, Proudfoot. We're ready to go."
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It was decided to catch Lucius Malfoy at the Ministry. Even in the present crisis, he was out and about, doing his usual business there, and given that he was a suspected Death Eater, Amelia expected he would a powerful and deadly duellist. Thus, a semi-public setting where he could be easily surrounded by Aurors looked to be the way to go rather than trying to capture him on his home turf. She wouldn't have dared, of course, without solid evidence, but she wouldn't have dared go after him at all without solid evidence, so it didn't make much difference.
Narcissa, Draco, and Dobby were all at the family manor in Wiltshire, and Amelia was comfortable enough sending Scrimgeour to bring them in from there. An intelligent mother who was known not to carry the Dark Mark, a thirteen-year-old boy, and a house elf who, according to Potter, didn't want to be there didn't sound like much of a threat.
Not that she wasn't cautious. She sent Scrimgeour, Proudfoot, and Gore to collect them. That was certainly a disturbing sight when Narcissa Malfoy came to the door at Dobby's summons. She stared at the three Aurors, quickly analysing the situation. She could think of a number of reasons for them to be there, none of them good. Lucius wasn't home, and if she couldn't talk her way out of this, there would be trouble from all sides.
"Can I help you, Head Auror Scrimgeour," she said guardedly.
"Narcissa Malfoy," he replied. "I've been asked to bring you and your son in for questioning regarding the recent events at Hogwarts."
She raised a single eyebrow at them. That wasn't what she was expecting, but it definitely worried her. Of course, it could be just a generic probe. "Are we under arrest?" she tested.
"No, ma'am, but you are wanted for questioning regarding your husband's possible involvement in recent events."
Okay, definitely bad. Amelia Bones must know he was involved somehow, and despite Lucius's repeated assurances, she must have solid evidence to tie it back to him, or it never would have got this far. She considered her options. She'd never fully understood what was happening, but she'd had reservations about this "Heir of Slytherin" plan of Lucius's from the start, and she was pretty sure she didn't want herself, or worse, Draco, tied to it.
"And if we refuse?" she asked.
"Then we'll ask you not to leave the country and return with a subpoena once the case proceeds," Scrimgeour said.
Damn. They had her completely outmanoeuvred. At the rate they were going, they were probably posed to send Lucius to Azkaban. At this point, probably the best thing she could do for him would be to cooperate—especially for Draco's sake, although she wasn't as worried about him. She had insisted that Lucius keep him out of this as much as possible.
"Well, then, I supposed I should do you a favour and save you the trouble," she said humorlessly. "Draco," she called. "Come here, please."
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"Did you know who the Heir of Slytherin was?" Amelia asked a very surly Draco Malfoy. The boy had protested being brought in by the Aurors.
"No, I didn't," the boy said with unmasked annoyance.
"Did you know what was in the Chamber or how the victims were being petrified?"
"No."
"Did you have any idea where the Chamber was?"
"No."
"Do you recognise this book?" she asked, holding up the diary carefully out of his reach. "You would have seen it in its undamaged state."
Draco eyed the diary in confusion. "No, I've never seen it before."
"Hmm…Did either of your parents tell you anything about what was happening this past year?"
"No. Father said to keep my head down and let the Heir get on with it. And he wouldn't tell me anything about what happened last time, either, if you're wondering."
"Then you knew he was in contact with the Heir?" she tried to lead him.
"Father told me to keep my head down and let the Heir get on with it," he repeated. "After the first message was written on the wall. I don't know anything else for certain."
"Did he ever let on that he knew something was going to happen this year," she tried again.
"Of course he did," Draco said, and Amelia's spirits were momentarily lifted. But he continued, "Father always knows everything that happens at Hogwarts. He's the Chairman of the Board of Governors, you know."
"Was, you mean."
Draco tried to object, but she didn't press the point. She was busy, and it was clear that he knew absolutely nothing of value. She'd just have to try her luck with his mother.
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Narcissa Malfoy was as perfectly poised as a woman of her station was expected to be. She acted pleasant and a little bit aloof, even in the interrogation room, and treated Amelia as if they were meeting for tea. She was visibly shaken by the news that her husband had been arrested right in the middle of the Ministry, but she suppressed her discomfort as she spoke. "Good afternoon, Madam Bones," she said. "Would you mind telling me what all this is about?"
"I should have thought that would be obvious, Mrs. Malfoy," Amelia said. "What else has the Ministry been doing while we've been all but shut down the past three days? We're investigating how one of the deadliest beasts in the world got set loose in a school. I'm sure you understand. We both have children there, don't we?"
Narcissa lost a little of her congenial tone as she replied, "Yes, I'd like to know why there was a basilisk loose in Hogwarts as well, Madam Bones, but I fail to understand why you think Lucius is involved." Actually, that was a lie. She couldn't deny that she had some inkling about Lucius's involvment, even if she didn't want to admit it to herself. "If this is about removing Dumbledore—"
"No, this has nothing to do with your husband's actions as Chairman of the Hogwarts Board of Governors—although we'll be looking into those as part of our investigation. We arrested him because we believe he was involved in the incident itself."
Narcissa grew very stiff, and her nostrils flared: "And just how did you reach such a slanderous conclusion? You must know Lucius was nowhere near Hogwarts during the attacks."
"I'm not saying he was. Do you recognise this book? It would have been undamaged when you saw it." Amelia held up the diary for her to see.
Damn, Narcissa thought.
"We discovered that there was a dark curse on this book that caused it to possess one of the students. It was she who released the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets under its control."
Buggering hell, they have the book! And they know what it did! Narcissa could only half-listen to Bones's explanation. Lucius's plan was exposed, but that wasn't even the chief concern in her mind.
"I've had eyewitnesses testify to me that your husband placed this book in that student's cauldron before the school year started."
And that means Lucius's plan really was behind this whole basilisk mess!
"So, naturally, we need to find out what, precisely, he knew and when he knew it."
"So let me get this straight. You're saying that Lucius was behind the plot to set a basilisk loose in the school where our son was living?" Narcissa demanded icily.
"That's where the evidence is pointing, Mrs. Malfoy, and I'm afraid it's looking pretty solid."
Narcissa took a deep breath, maintaining her calm exterior, but inside, she was in turmoil. With that one answer, years of denial and self-delusion came crumbling down. Bones wouldn't come after Lucius unless she had really solid evidence. This was bad. She and Lucius had had disagreements about things like this in the past, but they had never been serious. What followed next, however, was anything but a snap decision. She had had concerns from the day she found out she was pregnant, that having a husband who followed the Dark Lord might not be the best thing for her son. With the Dark Lord gone, she had dismissed them, but they always lay under the surface. Now, the most influential Death Eater who was left was going to Azkaban, and the calculus was changed. Worse, Lucius had endangered Draco, not just by unleashing a basilisk in Hogwarts, but also by losing a valuable item the Dark Lord had entrusted him with. Even if he didn't know what he was doing, that was unconscionable. So Narcissa's decision was really a well-considered one that she simply hadn't realised she had made long ago.
"Back me up in a divorce case, and I'll tell you everything I know," she said.
Amelia was stunned. That was the last thing she expected to hear. But it wasn't hard for her to reconstruct the woman's line of thinking, both as an investigator and as a mother in all but name. Narcissa Malfoy was naturally furious that her son had been placed in such danger and more furious that her husband was behind it. Since she had been trying to cover for him, it meant that she knew in broad terms what he was planning, but that fact that she was so angry told Amelia that she hadn't known the details and would never have approved if she had. So it seemed likely that she'd had reservations about it from the start.
And then there was the fact that her husband was going to Azkaban for at least five years and probably more. If he actually knew it was a basilisk he was setting loose (though it didn't look like he did), he would get life. This would her hurt deeply economically, politically, and as a parent, not to mention as a wife. It wasn't a stretch to believe she would want out of a marriage that he'd screwed up that badly.
Amelia grinned once she'd recovered from the shock. "Believe me, Mrs. Malfoy," she said, "after the week I've been having, a divorce case will be a refreshing change."
It was even better than Amelia had hoped. There was a muggle poet once who said something about a woman scorned. That was Narcissa Malfoy in spades. Dark artifacts hidden in the dungeon. (Of course, they had a dungeon.) Boasting about his plan to set the Heir of Slytherin's loose. Dirty dealings with Fudge? Oh, yes, this was big—and if it got the public to turn on Fudge…maybe it would help her own job security in this mess.
The one disappointment was that Lucius apparently didn't know that there was a basilisk involved. He may be a despicable human being, but he wasn't stupid. But still, she had plenty on him after all that. She sent Narcissa and Draco home once they were done talking, although she informed them she might want them back to testify, but Lucius wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.
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Narcissa returned home in a daze and sent Draco to his room, over his protests and questions. "We'll discuss this later, Draco," she said. "I need to take stock and make plans at the moment. Be sure to be ready in time for dinner."
Draco reluctantly went to his room, and she sank down on the sofa with tears in her eyes. How had everything gone so wrong? Yesterday, she was a wealthy, successful socialite. By tomorrow, she would be a disgraced pending divorcee. It was a place she never imagined she'd be, and she had no idea what to do about it.
She looked around at the manor. With Amelia helping her, she could probably get the manor in the divorce in exchange for a smaller share of the money. Well, technically, Draco would get the manor, since he was poised to inherit it anyway, but she wouldn't have to worry about being kicked out of her own house. And worst case, she would still get enough money for her and Draco to live on until he finished school. But that didn't help her out of the social death she surely was sinking into.
The clock chimed five, snapping her out of her thoughts. They'd been gone most of the afternoon, and the house wasn't in order. They probably didn't even have dinner ready. "Dobby," she called.
Their bedraggled house elf popped into view in front of her. "Yes, Mistress?" he asked.
Narcissa thought perhaps she should rethink how Lucius treated Dobby as well. Did the creature have a discipline problem? Sure, but that didn't justify him walking with a hunch and always dressing in a filthy pillowcase. She remembered dealing with the Hogwarts elves once or twice when she was in school. Now those were house elves. They stood at attention when you spoke to them, they always worked efficiently, and they had proper uniforms made from monogrammed tea towels. They never looked like they'd just been kicked (probably because they never were kicked).
Well, she'd worry about that later. "Dobby, prepare dinner for two tonight," she said. "The Master won't be returning for…an extended period."
"Yes, Mistress."
Once Dobby vanished, Narcissa took a deep breath and started to analyse her situation rationally. Lucius was going to Azkaban, and that case would be finished quickly. Hundreds of children had been placed in grave danger, Hogwarts was closed, and the Ministry was barely functional. People were baying for blood.
But for Narcissa, her struggle was just beginning. Her life as she knew it had just been destroyed, her husband's political coalition discredited or worse, and with it, the pureblood ideals she had believed in her whole life. Her own name was being dragged through the mud even now. And she had a son who had grown up idolising his father whom she now had to steer away from making the same mistakes. And there was the matter of her cousin being back.
In short, she had to find a way to reposition herself to retain some degree of control. It wasn't going to be with Lucius's Death Eater friends—not if she wanted the name Malfoy (and Black, if it were possible) to mean what it used to mean. She'd have to find another way.
She thought about her potential allies, old and new. She thought about her family, such as it was. Her options were limited, and in the end, she had to concede that there was only one palatable way that would let her rebuild her life quickly: the middle road.
And Merlin, did that hurt. She was a daughter of the House of Black! She should never have to stoop to this—should never have to compromise her family's beliefs: Toujours Pur. But look at them now. The only Blacks left who weren't in Azkaban were herself and two blood traitors. Could she reach out to them without switching entirely to their politics? The Blacks had money and power, and they could be valuable allies, but Sirius and Andromeda were muggle-lovers of the highest order. No, probably better to make her new political position clear first so everyone knew where each other stood.
Yes, she'd have to do it sooner or later. They were family, after all. And she had Draco to think of.
Draco was another problem. He was a natural Slytherin—the Sorting Hat had confirmed that by Sorting him in record time—but he didn't show it. He lacked subtlety, even for his age. He was arrogant, brash, and combative—embarrassingly Gryffindor traits. He had cunning, but he preferred to ride on his family name rather than use it, and he didn't even care to forge a more respectable public image for himself.
It wouldn't have served him well to start with, and with these new developments, he definitely needed to clean up his act.
She decided to give it to him straight. He was a Malfoy, after all. He could pick himself up after a terrible setback and rebuild, just like his family had done for nine hundred years. So when he asked what was happening with his father at dinner, she just told him, "Your father is going to Azkaban, Draco."
Draco immediately dropped his fork. Not a great start. "What? W-w-why?" he demanded.
"Because your father was the one behind this whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco," she said. "He used a dark artifact to induce Ginevra Weasley to open the Chamber and release the basilisk. Do you think the Ministry will let him go after doing something like that? After everything that's been happening?"
"But…but…but Father didn't know it was a basilisk, did he?"
"No, but he did attack an innocent girl with dark magic."
"Yeah, a blood traitor—"
"Other people won't see it that way," she snapped. "How many times have we told you that image is important, Draco?" Narcissa took a deep breath and continued. "Your father attacked the girl with dark magic. The Wizengamot can convict him on that, reckless endangerment, and maybe attempted murder. In the process, he caused a weapon of mass destruction to be released and endangered everyone in the school—not just muggle-borns. He'll be going a way for at least five years, and possibly as long as twenty.
"Twenty?! They can't! They can't convict Father," Draco insisted. "He has Fudge in his pocket."
"He doesn't have Amelia Bones in his pocket. And Fudge is running scared trying to save face after having this happen on his watch."
"But Fudge didn't even have anything to do with it!"
"Fudge arrested Hagrid without cause. And he was involved in the incarceration of Sirius Black twelve years ago—I'm sure you've heard of that. The people won't ignore that. Not to mention some of your father's under-the-table dealings with Fudge have been exposed." Never mind that she had been the one to expose them.
Draco was turning paler than usual as she dismantled his misconceptions. But of course, the biggest one was still to come. "But there must be something you can do," he said. "We're Malfoys! We have money. We have votes. You have to be able to get him out of there."
"On the contrary," she said, "I'm helping put him there."
"WHAT?!" Draco shot out of his seat so fast that his chair tipped over. "ARE YOU MAD?!"
"I most certainly am not."
"HOW COULD YOU?! THIS IS INSANE! HE'S YOUR HUSBAND!" He stomped over and shouted almost right in her face. "WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!"
"Sit. Down. Draco," she said, not rising from her seat.
"HOW COULD YOU SELL FATHER OUT LIKE THAT?! FOR MERLIN'S SAKE HE WAS DOING HIS DUTY TO THE PUREBLOOD RACE!"
"Listen when your mother is talking, Draco!" she snapped, and suddenly, Draco saw his mother for the first time not just as Narcissa Malfoy, who always went along with her husband, but as Narcissa Black, who was as formidable as any witch in the country. "I said sit."
He did.
"Do you have any idea of the position your father has put us in?" she said sternly. "He endangered your life and the lives of everyone in Hogwarts. He discredited the Malfoy name in a way we might never recover from. We can't be sure of our votes in the Wizengamot right now. No one will want to be associated with us. Not when he endangered Charles Nott's son and Josefina Zabini's son and Adrian Greengrass's daughters, not to mention Madam Bones's niece. The entire Ministry is on high alert thanks to his stunt, and Fudge can't stop that. Bribes won't work on Madam Bones, and she'll be sniffing them out beyond her department. And after all that, all your father really accomplished was to endangered you and me far more than anyone else."
"What? What do you mean?"
"That dark artifact your father used on Ginevra Weasley," Narcissa said. "It was given to him by the Dark Lord himself with explicit instructions to keep it safe and hidden and only to use it at the Dark Lord's command. If I'd known how sensitive it was, I never would have allowed it. You know the Dark Lord is still out there, Draco. That he could return one day to find this prized artifact of his destroyed. Do you remember the stories your Father would tell of what the Dark Lord would do to traitors? Do you understand how large a target your father has painted on your back and mine?"
This last suggestion made Draco turn ghostly white.
"Lucius has proved himself quite spectacularly to be an unworthy husband and father. So I did what any good mother would do. I severed all ties with him, Draco. For your sake."
Draco was too frightened by now to contest her. All her could say was, "But what do we do now?"
"Neither of us has the Dark Mark, Draco," she continued. "We don't have to tie ourselves to him politically or lie to avoid exposing ourselves. We can escape if we distance ourselves from your father and forge our own political path."
"Do you hear yourself, Mother?" Draco said, his voice filled with a pained mix of anger, fear, and confusion. "You're a Black! Where else can we go that will uphold the proper standards of blood purity?"
"You know better than that, Draco. Think. Without the House of Malfoy, who is the leading traditionalist force on the Wizengamot?"
"The House of Greengrass, I suppose," he said after a moment's thought.
"Precisely. The Greengrasses are a Slytherin-dominated family, Sacred Twenty-Eight purebloods, and defenders of traditional wizarding culture. True, they don't entangle themselves in blood politics, but as we now find ourselves on the losing side of that issue, that could be considered an advantage. I intend to publicly disavow your father's actions—which is near enough to the truth—and begin repositioning us as allies of the House of Greengrass."
Draco nodded reluctantly. He could begin to see the logic behind his mother's actions. "And…the Dark Lord?"
"With him, it would hardly be better for us if we stood by your father or one of his allies. We won't be marking ourselves as blood traitors by allying ourselves with the House of Greengrass, and the longer we're established in that position, the safer we'll be. And…" she said more to herself than to him, "Andromeda and Sirius might be willing to talk to us again."
"Andromeda and Sirius? You can't be thinking of joining them!" Draco said in horror. "They are blood traitors!"
"They are family, Draco, and I expect you to treat them with respect," Narcissa warned. "I certainly don't intend to join their politics, and I will tell them so. Nonetheless, I do intend to get on Sirius Black's good side as much as I can from our new position. I've already lost my status as Heiress Presumptive to the House of Black. Sirius reinstated Andromeda this morning—and I'm sure he'll be taking care of his childlessness problem soon enough anyway. We need to keep some contact with him…and, truth be told, I would like to get one of my sisters back."
Draco grew subdued. He'd never really heard her talk about her family before beyond political matters. "My apologies, Mother," he said.
She nodded at him. This seemed like a good time to address her son's other issues. "Speaking of respect, I wanted to talk to you about your behaviour at school," she continued. "Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall informed me that you were using slurs against fellow students, making threats—"
"They were only mudbloods, Mother."
"That's exactly what I mean. Your father may have tolerated the use of that word in public, but I will not."
"What do you mean? I'm only calling them what they are."
"Not everyone thinks as we do, Draco. In fact, the majority of the people don't. Do you realise that upwards of eighty percent of witches and wizards in Britain have a muggle-born grandparent or great-grandparent whom they remember fondly from their childhood? It's unwise to insult people's families like that—at least not when you don't have the political power to back it up."
"What's come over you, Mother? You never had problems with all that before."
"Don't take that tone with me, young man. I've been too lax with such things when I was with your father, and it's past time both of us cleaned up our acts. We are not at war, in case you haven't noticed. We have a political agenda—one that has just suffered a great setback. We won't win any allies by using foul language that deeply offends a large portion of the population. A proper Slytherin knows to be subtler than that.
"And returning to the matter at hand, Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall also told me you were trying to give people the impression that you were the Heir of Slytherin—need I remind you, a person who was attacking students and would have been sent to Azkaban for it had he been caught—and that you were in possession of several contraband items that you were definitely not supposed to have, even by your father's standards. You're attitude so far hasn't impressed me."
"I could've easily proved I didn't do it if anyone actually questioned me, Mother—"
"It still wasn't a good idea," Narcissa insisted. "Do you know how it would have looked for you to even be questioned?" She stopped and sighed. "I've seen you at your best, Draco," she continued more quietly. "You have it in you to be a great Slytherin, but you don't apply yourself to it. Now that there are only two of us, I need you to rise to be better for the sake of the family."
Draco's eyes widened as the full weight of the matter finally hit him. Bloody hell, he was the man of the house now, wasn't he? He really had no idea how to do that. It wasn't something he was expecting to have to worry about for years. He wasn't even thirteen until Saturday for Merlin's sake! He tried to think over what needed to be done, and he began to realise just how much he needed his mother's advice.
Very well, then. If it was just the two of them against the world, now, he would do what he had to for the sake of his family. "I understand, Mother," he said. "I apologise for my reckless actions, and I will be more careful about how I comport myself in the future."
"Thank you, Draco," she said. "I know we'll get through this together. We will begin our work in the morning."
A/N: Thanks for reading and please vote and comment!