Chapter Text
Madam Malkin had said that it would be a moment longer to fit Draco for new formal robes and Narcissa had merely nodded her approval. Her mind was wrapped up in something else. The Arithmancy equations that she nearly always kept running in her study at the Manor had changed. It had made her hyper vigilant. More aware of her surroundings as she tried to keep watch for something that was different. Something, out of the ordinary…
“Mother, must I get dress robes too? I’m not going to need them until Solstice.”
Shaking her head gently, Narcissa’s platinum hair shifted around her in a perfect sheet. “You will not be home again before Solstice, Draco. And Grand-mère will insist on robes that fit properly.” The Lady Rosier was her grandmother, Draco’s great-grandmother, and yet, Narcissa was positive that that would make no difference when it came to her harsh criticism.
“But I will have grown again by Solstice.” His protest was well reasoned, she would give him that.
“And I am sure that Madam Malkin will take that into account. We can have the hem let out if you do indeed grow several centimeters.” Her voice was gentle, but firm, as she leveled icy blue eyes against her son. Draco pushed back more when Lucius was not around than he ever did in his father’s presence, but Narcissa was not going to be flown over by her son.
The door to the shop opened again, and a small tinkling sound filled the space as the witch that was pinning Draco’s robes looked up. “Excuse me, Lady Malfoy.” A seamstress appeared to take the owner’s place as Narcissa nodded, and she turned to look at some fabric that had been brought out for her opinion, as another young boy was led into the fitting area.
He was small, too small, it appeared, to be starting Hogwarts. And dressed in clothes that were both muggle in nature and far too large for him. A mess of jet-black hair, and what appeared to be broken spectacles were prominent about the young boy.
Narcissa had been taking in his appearance, momentarily distracted from both her thoughts of her Arithmancy, and the midnight blue fabric that had been brought out to her, when she realized what Draco was saying. “When we’re done here we are going to meet Father, and I plan on dragging them to look at racing brooms.”
“Draco!” She chastised her son for his apparent lack of manners and swept back over to the boys. “Manners.” Her icy eyes were softer somehow, gentler, as she turned to look at the smaller boy, “I apologize for my son’s rudeness.” It was then she realized that no one had accompanied the young man into the shop. “Are you here all by yourself?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The boy nodded, and then quickly shook his head, “I mean, Hagrid, is with me. But he went to The Leaky Cauldron.”
“I see…” Something prickled at the back of Narcissa’s neck, and she offered the boy a charming smile, “My name is Lady Malfoy, this is my son, Draco. Are you from a muggle family if Hagrid is the one escorting you?” Why on earth anyone would think that man capable of showing a muggleborn around Diagon Alley was beyond Narcissa, but she had long ago stopped trying to make sense of Albus Dumbledore’s choices.
“Yes ma’am. I live with my aunt and uncle in Surrey. My name is Harry. Harry Potter.”
Harry Potter.
Without trying, they had seemingly found the boy that the Dark Lord had been defeated by ten years ago. This boy was responsible for so much, and yet, he looked as though he knew next to nothing. As if magic, and the world all around him, were brand new.
“Harry Potter?” Draco’s eyes went a little wide at the discovery of the young man’s identity, but he did not say anything else. Instead, she saw him turn his eyes back to her.
Narcissa shifted just a bit to her left, putting herself between both boys and the window that faced out into the Alley. “Well then, hello Lord Potter.” Her tone was still warm, and welcoming, entirely the opposite of what one would expect to hear from a witch in possession of such icy eyes.
“Lord?” The boy shook his head as he turned his eyes back up to hers, from where they had been trained on Draco. “I’m not a Lord. I’m Harry. Just Harry.”
Her laughter was melodic, and a magic that could not really be named seemed to exude from it as the witch shook her head again. “Indeed, you are though. You are The Lord Potter and have been since the night that your father passed away.”
“Did you know him?” There was an eagerness to the boy that made Narcissa’s chest ache. He seemed almost desperate in his inquiry.
“Only a little, more in passing than anything. He was friends with my cousin.” Though perhaps that was a story better left for another time. “I knew your mother, though. Your parents were a few years behind me in school, but your mother and I were once in the same club.”
“Alright boys,” The witches that were kneeling at their feet seemed to finish with each of them at the same time, “you’re both finished, you can hop down.”
Narcissa stepped back and automatically lifted a hand to both boys to allow them to step down. Draco took it without thinking, but she saw Harry flinch back. As though the sudden raise of her hand were going to strike him. Slowly, she let the hand drop, and the same prickle at the back of her neck that had caused her to introduce herself had the already petite witch crouching down in front of the young boy. “Harry… I am not going to hurt you. I promise.”
The witch felt her husband before he even entered the shop. The tug on the bond that they shared alerting her to his presence, but she did not take her eyes from Harry as she felt Lucius open the door. “Narcissa?” His tone held the unasked question, but she only shook her head in reply. Not even turning to look at him yet as she tried to pull Harry’s eyes back to her.
Draco shifted around her and came to stand at his father’s side as Lucius’ voice floated through her mind. His hand rested comfortingly on her shoulder as he stepped up behind her. “Narcissa, what’s going on?”
“This boy is Harry Potter.” She had answered without even turning around, “And he is being abused.”
She knew. The moment her hand had come up. The moment that the boy had flinched. Narcissa had known. Instinct had screamed at her. Instinct that she knew now her own mother had never had. For every blow that Cygnus Black had inflicted upon his daughters, Druella had looked the other way. Narcissa could not do such a thing. She would never look away from a child that seemed to be living in their own version of that hell.
“Are you sure?” Lucius’ voice echoed through their bond, and Narcissa nodded. She was more than sure. Not only that the boy had introduced himself as Harry Potter, but that he was far too small, far too skinny for his age. And the way that he had flinched. Only someone that had been struck for every little thing would have flinched at the offer of her hand to step down from the stool.
“Harry?” Narcissa’s voice was once again warm, and soothing, as she spoke to the boy, “I’m going to stand up now, I wanted you to know before I moved too fast, alright?”
The young boy gave a small nod, and Narcissa moved so slowly, and gracefully, as she stood back up to hover between her husband and her son. The very last thing that she wanted to do was scare the child. He had already been through enough, and she was sure that they did not even know the half of it. She felt the reassuring presence of Lucius’ hand on the small of her back, and the familiar thrum of his magic through her skin as he offered her strength, and peace in this moment.
Draco had remained quiet, while she had been speaking to the other boy, but he slipped his hand into hers as she returned to them, and Narcissa turned to smile down at her son. He would be bigger than her soon, and she hated that. But she was pleased with how respectful he was being right now.
“Why don’t we pay for our parcels that the ladies have gathered so nicely for us, and then we can figure out where we are going next.” Lucius’ voice was confident, and sure, as it always was, and Narcissa urged him to move slowly as he stepped around her, and over toward Harry. “Come along, Lord Potter, just over here.”
Lucius guided Harry to pay for his robes, and Narcissa turned to crouch down in front of Draco. “I know that this is not how we planned on this day going, but I need you to trust your father and I, alright?”
“Yes, Mother.” He nodded his agreement, and she watched as pale blue eyes, so very like her own, flicked toward the counter, “Is that really Harry Potter?”
“I believe so, yes.” She answered him softly, the words barely more than a whisper.
Draco seemed to study the other boy for a long moment before he looked back at her, “What’s the matter with him?”
Narcissa sighed and brushed her fingers over the hair that he had taken to slicking back off his forehead, “Nothing is the matter with him. But I do not think that he has had the easiest life since he left our world. Someone has treated him very poorly.”
“But… I thought everyone loved him? Isn’t that what Father says? That everyone loves the famous Harry Potter, for what he did to the Dark Lord?”
“Yes.” Narcissa nodded gently, and she offered a sad sort of smile, “But right now, I want you to try and be kind. And see if you cannot make him a little more comfortable by being his friend.”
Draco nodded again, “Yes, Mother.”
Leaning forward, Narcissa pressed a soft kiss to her son’s forehead, and then she once more rose to her feet. With the same lithe movement, and languishing grace, that spoke of a power that rested within her. Lucius was guiding Harry back toward them as she drew back to standing, when Harry pointed out the window, and gave a little wave, “There’s Hagrid. Thank you, Lord Malfoy.” The boy nodded up at her husband, and then turned back to look at her, “Thank you, Lady Malfoy. I’m sorry I was frightened.”
“That is quite alright, Harry.” Instinct had her wanting to reach out and draw him to her. To never let him out of her sight. But Narcissa knew she had no right to do such a thing. Even if she could practically hear the wheels spinning in Lucius’ mind, she knew even he could not have come up with a reason to keep Harry with them so quickly. “I am sorry I frightened you.”
“Perhaps we should go and speak to Mr. Hagrid.” Lucius had once more returned to her side, and laid his hand on her back, “There is no reason that the boys could not finish their shopping together, if Lord Potter would like some company?”
She watched as Harry glanced at Draco, and her son smiled at him as he led the way to the door, “Do you know anything about Quidditch, Harry?”