Narcissa wished she had her wand. Not that she would have known what spell to cast with it. She shook her head and wondered if this was the same little boy she had comforted just this summer with a shopping trip, so that he could have some time with her and not become jealous of Henry.
"Did Henry miss me that much?"
"I think he did. But this is about me, Mother, not him."
Now Narcissa looked at Draco more carefully than ever, perusing his expression and his posture—not that she could see much of that with Draco crouched before the Floo as he was. She swallowed words that would probably have hurt someone to speak. Perhaps not Draco. "What did you find wrong with my actions, Draco?"
"You let your madness control you." Draco's words were glacial and perfectly measured. Narcissa thought she might see another reason that he was acting more like his father than her at the moment, even though she had secretly prided herself on Draco's resemblance to her many times. "You could have killed Crouch, even though you didn't intend to. And you made me feel like I was less important to you than your vengeance."
"I'm sorry, Draco," Narcissa whispered. She was shaking now, and could only be grateful that Regulus was spending a lot of time in his room since what she had done to Crouch. What he had seen her do. What he had said he wanted to stay for. "I didn't intend to."
"Then don't do it again."
"Draco, I am still your mother."
"Then bloody well fucking act like it!"
Narcissa opened her mouth to speak, but the fire in the Floo disappeared, along with Draco's face, before she could say anything at all.
She spent some moments looking down at her own clenched hands, and thought about what Draco had said and not said. He hadn't scolded her for the spells she had used, the way Henry had confronted Lucius about his necromancy. He had seemed upset by the order of events.
He would probably have been fine with it if I had checked on them first, instead of going to Crouch's room to use the spells.
Narcissa nodded slowly to herself. Yes, that was true. Very well. In the future, she would do her best to remember her children and speak to them first, comfort them as necessary, before taking measures to remove the white light from her head.
And if she could not control that white light, as she had been afraid she could not have the other night, and feared that she would say or do something to her children that they would never forgive her for…
Perhaps I should speak to a house-elf about removing the Black madness.
Sitting alone in his room, Regulus turned his holly-and-phoenix-feather wand over and over in his hands, and thought of what he had seen Narcissa do. Thought long and hard about whether his cousins had become the same thing he wanted to fight.
But what choice did he have?
The duel with Sirius still awaited him. He still needed training. And no one could provide the kind of training or ferocity that Lucius and Narcissa could. It was imperative that he win the duel and get the locket away from Sirius.
Regulus nodded slowly. So he would do what he could to get that training, and avoid calling the ferocity down onto himself. It shouldn't be difficult. He was Narcissa's beloved cousin. It would take a betrayal of monumental proportions to make them turn on him.
He would just have to make sure that there was no reason for them to see him as the enemy.
Ever.
Drunk. I'm drunk.
Sirius laughed a little as the thought wound through his head. So, yeah, he was drunk. So what? All that mattered was that he had a clear sense in his head of who his enemies were.
Wait, enemies? I thought I was concentrating on how to get Harry back.
Of course enemies. Who else is keeping Harry from you?
Sirius opened his eyes. He was sprawled on the couch in front of the fireplace, as he almost always was now, with the bottle of Firewhisky in his hands. And the locket around his neck, of course. The only valuable thing in this cursed place.
Sirius took up the chain of the locket and spun it lazily between his fingers. The gold glittered and flashed. Sirius smiled. He couldn't imagine how one of his ancestors hadn't been buried with it, but he was grateful it was here.
He took another swig of Firewhisky, but this time, the burning in his head was worse than the burning in his throat.
I'll never get Harry back if I just spend all my time lying here and drinking. But I don't know how to do it, either. I can't just use a necromantic ritual to turn him back into a Potter. He would never agree to it.
Who said that he has to agree to it?
Sirius gasped a little. His own thoughts spoke in his head almost like a different voice, and he sat up and looked around nervously before he could stop himself. "Who's there?" he whispered, his hand tightening on the locket.
Your wisdom, speaking to you at last.
"But I want—Harry is my godson. I want him back. I don't want him to hate me forever. Which he'd do if I used necromancy on him without his permission."
But is he your godson in truth? Isn't he becoming more and more like Henry Malfoy every day? Wouldn't it make more sense to turn him back into a Potter now, no matter how much he may protest, before he becomes even more corrupt?
Sirius swallowed. He hadn't considered that. He hadn't thought that he would have to ignore Harry's protests and do it for his own good.
Of course you have to.
Sirius nodded slowly, but then scowled. He didn't know how to do it. Harry was on high alert against kidnapping at all times, and so was that brat of a brother of his. And he was well-protected at both Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts.
You will have to play the long game. Pretend that you've accepted his blood, that you're pleased to be godfather to Henry Malfoy in truth. Or at least Narcissa's cousin. Plead to be included in the family. You know that she'll want to do that.
"I don't know if she'll believe me, though."
She'll accept you temporarily. She did with her disowned sister and that Mudblood's daughter, didn't she?
Yes, a Mudblood was how Narcissa would see Ted Tonks. How she probably always secretly thought of him.
She would do a lot to make her son happy.
Yes, she would. Including letting a repentant Sirius close. The only one who would be able to tell Harry the truth about Narcissa, the one that even Lucius didn't know.
Sirius smiled, and spun the locket on its chain with one finger as he began to plan.
We are planning.
Yes, we.
....
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