Narcissa's heels playfully tapped on the stone floor, breaking the night silence of the old castle. Portraits discontentedly hissed at the girl but, being a prefect, Narcissa could do a lot of things. However, she allowed herself a lot even when she was an ordinary Slytherin, if the word ordinary suited the future Mrs. Malfoy.
AB have several inviolable rules. The first is no personal preference or prejudice. The second, any information coming from any source is strictly confidential. Third, none of AB should know the name or the face of any other member.
Following the rules was vital, because ignoring at least one of them could lead to exposure and complete failure. Narcissa broke them all.
Deliberately and with no remorse, she persecuted Malfoy for almost a year. Calmly, shaking thin shoulders, she gave a huge amount of information to the same Malfoy and, afterwards, to Beata and Emily. She had a very clear idea of each of AB members, knew all their addictions, habits, methods, and thus she became their curator.
When AB founders left the stage sending a short letter to the unknown volunteer with instructions and a secret signature, Narcissa had not the slightest idea about what was happening. Because the first person who sent AB the letter was Regulus.
"What is it?" Narcissa laughed and quickly wrenched the envelope from Regulus's fingers. "Wow!"
"Give it back," Regulus insisted. He was in love with Narcissa since the very first meeting, that is, since six years old.
"What do I get for this?" naïve flicker of eyelashes, a soft curtain of hair carelessly thrown back, and Regulus was covered with a crimson blush. Narcissa could always play silly if necessary.
"It's a secret. I can't..."
Pursed scarlet lips and sadness in brown eyes, Regulus could never resist. Unlike his brother, he was a typical naïve boy and gave in to any, even the most amateurish provocation.
He hesitated, shifting his feet, looked at Narcissa and finally cracked up, "Don't tell anyone, okay?"
Narcissa took a tiny step toward him and enveloped Regulus with the scent of lilies, sweat running down his forehead, his chest feeling hot. Regulus swallowed.
"I offered AB my help," he whispered excitedly.
"What for?" Narcissa stepped back, genuinely surprised.
Regulus, as if frightened that Narcissa would misunderstand him, immediately ranted, "Lucius is not good to Emily, you know? He humiliates her, pursues, taunts her. I thought that I could find leverage over him if..."
Narcissa grimaced. She vaguely remembered who this Emily was, but she was always irritated by another female name that sounded from mouths of her admirers. She missed the rest of the confession and was already thinking of leaving young Black alone but, suddenly, a bell rang in her head.
Leverage over Lucius? It was interesting.
"Tell me more."
Narcissa took Regulus under the elbow and he almost had a seizure. Emily was immediately forgotten, as well as Malfoy; there was only an adorable white-haired witch with dark chocolate eyes and a sweet smile on her scarlet lips.
It took a lot of time to sort out the letters of AB' fans, understand the situation, pick up new candidates for the main roles, but Narcissa managed to do it and unexpectedly got the power she couldn't even dream of.
She was running the whole school. She knew who slept with whom, had a schedule of meetings between Dumbledore and McGonagall, Pomfrey and Flitwick. She was aware of all the movements of the Marauders and also that Remus, as well as Peter, for a long time remained virgin. She even knew how many spoons of sugar each of them puts in his mug. Oh, how surprised the rest of AB would've been, if they had even a vague idea of each other.
Slytherin common room met Narcissa with a cold green flame of the fireplace and a heap of scattered notebooks left by juniors. Black frowned; when Lucius was a prefect, they didn't allow themselves this.
The dark winding corridor with long darkened glass on the walls that went directly to the depths of the underwater lake had long ceased to frighten her. Sirius often repeated that Slytherin dorm was an aquarium with piranhas, and it really was. Literally. Piranhas lived in this lake and Lucius always scared first-years that he would feed them to bloodthirsty fish if they didn't obey him.
Each iron door along the corridor bore a name and a genealogy tree. The information was useless since every self-respecting offspring of a noble family memorized all possible genealogies by heart before entering the school. But the status of blood on Slytherin was in the first place.
The family door opened as soon as Narcissa approached her bedroom. Candles flashed all over the room and a greenish flame blazed over the witch sitting in the chair.
"I didn't expect you today."
Eliza Killbrook, in a simple white dress sitting in Narcissa's favorite chair, was quietly reading muggle classics. She lifted her head and, standing up, smiled gently.
"Narcissa," Eliza tilted her head. "I want to talk."
"Do you?" Narcissa walked slowly along the carpet, unbuttoning her robe and taking off her hairpin. Luxurious hair, casting white gold in a magical light, splashed on her back. "I thought you'd be at the Farewell Party. Erica asked for your visit."
"I couldn't be there with so many purebloods," Eliza replied. She stood straight, holding the book in her hands and smiling sweetly.
"Of course."
Narcissa sank smoothly onto the bed, plunging her hands into a furry white blanket.
"I would be very grateful to you," Eliza walked around Narcissa to look her in the eye, "if you introduced me into your circle. As Malfoy's future wife, we will become almost relatives and your word will mean a lot."
"Why are you flattering me?"
"Excuse me?"
"You're trying to be diplomatist although you're sick of the treatment like that toward yourself. You're trying not to be rude to me, to be gentle and almost affectionate, but you're not taught this art."
Eliza was silent, waiting for the continuation, or rather, clues of how to proceed.
"The Lord doesn't tolerate the weak. He took half-blood Severus with a much less famous name in his circle and, therefore, he will take you, too."
"Is Severus a half-blood?" Eliza's brow flew up.
"You didn't know?" Narcissa smiled.
"How do you know all this? Why weren't you surprised when I told you my real name?"
"Because," Narcissa snapped. "Do you want to serve the Lord? Do you want to serve him and not share the burden of marriage with other pureblood ladies?"
"I do."
"It's unusual."
"I was brought up in a different society and used to be strong."
"Me too," Narcissa said sharply. "But the power can be different. It can be passive and wise, or aggressive and crushing."
Eliza shrugged and lifted her chin, answering Narcissa with a silent, stubborn look. The Slytherin was once again amazed how she didn't distinguish so familiar features in the Hufflepuff before, she was an exact copy of her deceased grandfather.
"Doesn't it disgust you to poison your house mates?" Narcissa asked with interest.
"It does," Eliza answered shortly. Her lips tightened from unpleasant memories that she tried to avoid with all her might. "But I understand the mechanism of action of the potion. Only those who has a wormhole inside are affected. Those whose spirit is strong are able to avoid unpleasant consequences."
Narcissa chuckled. Only one of Yaxley could talk about a violent suicide of innocent children as unpleasant consequences.
"I don't like you," Narcissa said. Eliza didn't even twitch, only surprise slipped in her blue eyes. "And that's a good sign. All the closest people to the Lord make me hate them."
"And Lucius?" Eliza grinned.
"Including," Narcissa replied with absolute dispassion. "That's what I can't understand... Why all this masquerade with Pettigrew? You're messing with half-blood, knowing your real family."
"Is it hard to believe that I just fell in love?"
"You?" Narcissa's tone was accusatory. "You're killing your house mates, you're playing Erica Malfoy as you please, you have more Yaxleys blood in you than in all of them combined. Love? It's not about you."
"He's my cover," Eliza answered honestly. "I thought that if in the future I had to deal with Death Eaters, it might cast suspicion on me. And I don't want to get on the way of Gryffindors who hate them, or Slytherins who despise half-bloods. No one will think badly of the sweet Hufflepuff. Moreover, the girlfriend of the Marauder."
"It's prudent."
Narcissa took a large comb out of the bedside table and began combing her hair, showing that the conversation was over. When Eliza was already at the door, she suddenly stopped.
"Tell me, Narcissa... Since you asked not to flatter."
Narcissa lifted her head and her haughty look cut Eliza.
"Do you like it? Spending all your life behind the back of a tyrant husband, hoping that he will not take it out on you and your children after an unsuccessful conversation with the Lord?"
Narcissa looked through Eliza.
"No, I don't like this," she said very softly. "But one way or another, Lucius will be my family and our future children, too. And I will give my life for them no matter what. You should understand this now, Eliza. In the circles of purebloods, family means everything."
✨ ✨ ✨
Near Malfoy Manor, an hour before midnight
The wide-open gate of Malfoy Manor hinted at a fabulously expensive reception. The endless string of carriages entering the estate only confirmed this.
"It's no good, Prongs," Sirius said.
They were hiding in ambush at the very gates and silently hoping that the protective enchantments carefully casted by Lily would save them from the guardian spells.
"What's the problem?"
"Protection. Malfoys used the Generic spell."
"What the fuck is this?"
"Only the blood of the families marked in the spell can cross the threshold. My mother has already arrived; I recognized her carriage, the one like a silver coffin. It means I can enter. But Potters... Sorry, but you're the only one left to the whole world and you weren't invited," Sirius said it so calmly that the whole thing didn't immediately reach Potter.
"You..." he whispered. "You..."
"Sorry, Prongsie."
"You knew that from the very beginning, asshole!"
Sirius didn't look at James. He hoped that Prongs wouldn't start a fight right in front of the nose of fifty Death Eaters and didn't want to provoke him.
"Why the fuck are you sacrificing yourself right and left?" James pulled away from the tree and, falling into the snow to his knee, moved towards Black. "Took me as a support group so I would jump around you, shake my ass and inspire you to the battle, right?"
Sirius closed his eyes and, unexpectedly for himself, exploded.
"Do you remember that bloody lake in the Forbidden Forest?" Black grabbed James's shoulders. "I saw you dead! You and Lily! Both! Lying pale, dead, smiling with your filthy bright smiles and NOT BREATHING."
The rage bubbled inside him and even James's deer eyes, for some reason becoming guilty, couldn't stop it. Sirius pushed James away, causing him to fall back into the snow, and took a deep breath. Potter looked at Black, dumbfounded, hardly remembering which lake he was talking about.
"That lake? Dark as if all the fish shit in the world swimming in it?"
"Yes."
"And you believe this rubbish dump with seaweed?"
"It's a magic lake!"
"It's fucking water, Pads!"
They froze, looking at each other, clenching their fists.
"Anyway, you don't have to go to the Malfoy Manor," Sirius deadpanned. "Give me the cloak."
James pulled the invisibility cloak from under his jacket and angrily threw it. Black deftly caught it and threw it on himself.
"I'll be back soon," a scowling voice came from nowhere and deep tracks tarnished the white snow.
A string of tracks left the forest, leaving James alone with a rage that ripped from within and a wild fear for his friend. Imagine that the egoist Black is sacrificing himself for someone?
"Looks like this suicidal infection stuck to you, twat."
Prongs talked tough, but he was sick at heart. Hearing a clang of metal, James jerked forward and managed to see the wrought-iron gate of the Malfoy Manor slamming shut behind the last carriage with a frightening crash.
The masquerade began.
✨ ✨ ✨
Malfoy Manor, an hour before midnight
His father's body lay in a beautiful, decorated with five hundred white roses coffin. On the wooden sides a family coat of arms was carved, years of life and Abraxas's favorite words: "Fear gives rise to respect, love gives rise to errors." The smell of flowers was nauseating, but Erica forbade using of a Refreshing spell. She wanted everyone to feel who they had lost.
Judging by the wrinkled noses of the ladies and the respected gentlemen waving their handkerchiefs, they couldn't care less. They wanted to get down to a meal as soon as possible, discuss the latest rumors, politics and, finally, go to the point ─ namely, to the meeting of the Death Eaters.
Abraxas's face, white as if carved from stone, looked almost alive. It seemed that, in an instant, the father would rise slowly from the coffin, take a deep breath, look at everyone with his small sharp eyes and ask why these miserable leeches had decided that they had the right to waste the time when the magical world was plunged into a new war.
But Abraxas was dead and couldn't rise from the coffin. And for the last few years it was the only act of his father for which Lucius was immensely grateful.
He didn't notice how measured noise of voices abated and almost flinched when, turning around, he faced two dozen of close-up looks. Everyone was wondering how the younger Malfoy will cope with the upcoming role. Everyone was wondering if he could withstand the exorbitant burden that his father had carried.
"We are gathered here today to pay tribute to the memory of my father, Abraxas Malfoy, who you all knew and certainly respected for the many acts committed for the benefit of the ancient wizarding community."
Whatever was spinning in the heads of these tarantulas, no one gave a sign of doubt in what had been said. Some lady waved a fan, showing that the smell of flowers was completely unbearable, and Lucius immediately stared at her with a prickly look. Madam paled at once and froze.
Heart-broken Erica Malfoy, who forgot that tears need to be wiped from her face, grabbed Walburga's dry hand with a dead grip. Noticing her son's gaze, she smiled timidly; for a moment, she thought that through Lucius's eyes, her beloved husband looked at her from the underworld.
"We all know how much he has done for the pureblooded wizards. Generous donations, support for numerous scientific studies, investments in talented magicians, all this shouldn't be ignored in any way. Abraxas struggled with the immorality and ignorance of sorcerers who are on the side of the muggle blood. He invested huge amounts of money in the well-known school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts, in order to provide his and your children with proper education. He didn't stint and when it came to the support of medicine, the Ministry of Magic and..."
Everyone listened in silence and Lucius felt his father behind him, like only one wrong word and his head would fall from his shoulders obeying the imperious swing of the ghostly hand.
When the last word fell and froze, the ringing silence broke about the sound of quick steps. Lord Voldemort himself came to honor his nearest servant. The guests parted, literally jumping from his path, losing all their pomp. A thin house-elf in a ragged sheet followed the Lord.
"Lucius," Voldemort nodded briefly to Malfoy Jr. and his red eyes flashed.
The Lord turned to the guests with one sharp movement, heavily sucked the air drenched in the smell of roses and death in, and smiled.
"My words, like the words of a mentor and patron, will not replace the words of the son. Therefore, I'll say only one thing. Thank you. Thank you, Abraxas, for leaving a worthy heir. You don't forget about your duty even after death."
Lucius was standing so close to the Lord for the first time and the unsteady sensation of the snake braiding his neck, ready to break the fragile human backbone at any second, didn't go away.
Mother looked at him with wide, delighted eyes, opening her small mouth and nodding in response to Walburga's quiet whisper. The Lord said something else, but Lucius didn't hear or see anything. He wanted to drink himself to death for the first time in his life.
✨ ✨ ✨
"Oh, collectible whiskey?" Sirius put his nose into the wooden locker, studying the labels of a long row of pot-bellied bottles.
Once, as a child, him and Regulus stayed here for a whole weekend accompanying Narcissa, who at that moment like a thoroughbred cow was being proposed as a wife to the Malfoys. Well, they succeeded. But with Regulus, unable to bear close attention of their mother who began to watch their manners three times more carefully, they escaped through the cellar.
The path was prompted by a house-elf whose name was Bobby. He resisted with all his might, but Regulus said that they were the future relatives of his younger master, and the poor fellow was forced to help. After that, he seemed to be going to break his lop-eared head against the wall, but to be honest, Black didn't give a damn.
Sirius's fear was replaced by a familiar excitement as soon as the boy broke into the manor. Mother with her blood provided him with a cover; it was so strange that he wanted to find her among the guests and laugh in her face.
He grabbed the bottle, with a short movement of his wand pulled out the cork and pressed his lips against the bottleneck. The amber liquid spilled inside, enveloping Sirius's consciousness with a warm, caring veil. The world has become brighter and kinder. After all, if someone from the Voldy's gang caught him here, it will be more pleasant to die.
Sadly returning the cork back and putting the bottle in its place (of course, after spitting in it), Sirius searched the long racks with his eyes. Dimly lit round cheeses, sausages and dark jars with jam and pickles blended into one multicolored string. Well, he can have supper when he comes back.
The door creaked and Sirius immediately squeezed into the wall. The little legs of the complaisant servant walked past him. Maybe it was the same Bobby. The elf opened the closet, extracted a dozen bottles and dragged an unbearable load up the stairs. Judging by the label, he also took the bottle Black spat in.
The elf was small, stubborn, but slow, and Sirius, not losing time, slipped past through the open door, squinted against the bright light and dived to the left, into the saving niche. The rules here were the same as in Hogwarts, only the stakes were higher.
Ancient tapestries, antique furniture, portraits of famous wizards, long corridors and a danger that seemed to hide behind every turn. On Black's right, there was an arched wooden opening, from which came a delicious smell of fried meat, baking and wine. It was the kitchen, which means he needed to go in the opposite direction.
✨ ✨ ✨
Malfoy Manor, small living room
"You'll stay here until the end of the reception," Avery said as if he gave the order to the house-elf. Peter nodded, not looking up.
They were in a spacious living room on the second floor with exquisite statuettes of expensive stone, high cabinets with folios in unknown languages and ornate candelabra with thin white candles. Surely, Avery was trying to find simpler room for Peter, but there were no bad rooms in Malfoy Manor.
They entered the house through the back door so as not to offend noble gentlemen with the presence of Peter.
Malfoy Manor turned out to be a huge living monster in whose belly Peter had to spend the night. If it were not for Avery's presence, he would've been digested long ago.
Quiet footsteps rang out from a nearby corridor and pale Lucius Malfoy stepped into the room. He looked indifferently at Peter who could've sworn that Lucius was trembling. Probably, his father's funeral was much harder than he expected.
"Peter," said Malfoy without any mannerisms or contempt.
When Lucius was his classmate, Pettigrew could consider him equal to himself, could tease and scoff. But now, surrounded by the most notorious murderers, being in a house full of hate, Malfoy seemed more experienced, older and looked quite different.
Peter had already seen this look. James looked like that after the death of his parents, with dull hatred and no desire to live.
"Peter," Malfoy repeated and dropped gently into the chair. His graceful fingers tightly clasped the armrest. "You made a decision. It's worthy of respect."
"Avery said─"
"Jacob," Malfoy corrected. "We don't call our own by last names."
He said our own and began to observe Peter's reaction as a snake watches a rabbit.
"Jacob said you wanted to introduce me to... society," Peter stuttered and despised himself for it.
"The moment is right," Lucius shrugged. "When will we all get together again? You understand that I can't call such busy people for a meeting with you."
"I understand."
"You're clever, Peter. Instead of the usual Gryffindor heroism, you chose a cold calculation and acted wisely, took the right side."
"You threatened my mother," Peter said. Very carefully and almost inquiringly.
Malfoy chuckled dryly. The shadow of death, for a moment, receded from his eyes and Lucius almost became his usual self.
"We didn't threaten, Peter. We objectively assessed the situation. If you wanted to stay on the side of your friends, your mother would simply share the fate of many like her. For example, the parents of Evans or McKinnon."
Peter listened, with incredible willpower retaining an indifferent expression and not letting his fingers squeeze in anger.
"And you calculated it like a reasonable person," Lucius smiled. "Preferred the winner, not the losers."
"What now?"
"Now?" Lucius rose heavily from the chair and gave his hand to Peter. "I will introduce you to a circle of very influential and very interesting people. This is your moment of glory, Peter. Are you ready?"
✨ ✨ ✨
Sirius couldn't see who Malfoy was leading along the dark corridor. But the plan was obviously coming apart at the seams, because Malfoy wasn't going to get drunk in his room. Worse than that, he was dragging someone who could become a very undesirable witness.
On the other hand, if the Marauders always followed the plan, they would long ago have been expelled from school.
Sirius always wondered what the offspring of pureblood families looked like when all the gloss flew from them. Neither Walburga nor Orion ever allowed themselves to relax even in the presence of their own children. And now Sirius had a great chance to find out.
Lucius stood in the corridor, putting his hand on the door handle. He didn't move, just looked at the floor and was silent. The white long hair curtained his face and, for a moment, Sirius thought that Lucius was crying.
But no. Lifting his head and throwing his hair back, Lucius straightened up and swept forward along the corridor as if he was running away from someone. Sirius knew what Malfoy was thinking, what he craved the most.
He himself often walked away with his head high in the long corridors of the house in Grimmauld Place. He walked like a king even when he knew that there was no one around. Because you can afford weakness only if you're absolutely sure that no one, no living person, animal or even plant can see your pain.
Black walked slowly after Malfoy. Soft green carpets reliably muffled his steps. Wizards and witches in their portraits pretended to sleep, opening their eyes only when Lucius had already passed them.
The layout of the house turned out to be completely unfamiliar to Sirius. He was never on the personal floor of Lucius, Abraxas and Erica, but he assumed that even if he had a map, he couldn't figure anything out. On the other hand, he lived most of his life surrounded by traps, locked doors and long dark corridors of Grimmauld, that's why he had no doubt that he would find the right path and get out.
Malfoy almost flew into his office, trying to quickly get into his den. He threw open the door and didn't notice the shadow slipping across the floor. After a moment, he collapsed onto Sirius's hands and the door behind them both slammed shut.