The Tempest

The Tempest


By: Max

[Disclaimer: see chapter 1]

Chapter 14: It is no cricket at all - 2005


y ofy of Albus Dumbledore,
Hogwarts, January 16, 2005

Back at Hogwarts and with a desk laden with parchment - I actually should work my way through it, but in the moment I feel more for tidying up my mind. The desk can wait and it’s probably even easier done with a clear mind.

Venice - I had it coming! In the moment Ginny - beaming with pride - showed us our room, I knew I was going to be in trouble. The dear girl was a bit nervous and therefore babbling: “And that’s our guest room - I know it isn’t what you’re used to, but Draco and I are so happy to have you and we thought for a few days - I mean Draco made the bed extra huge and look, we’ve enchanted the closet! It’s a lot bigger inside …”

Narcissa laid her arm around Ginny’s shoulder. “Darling Ginny, the room is wonderful. And the closet could probably store all of Albus’ robes, but I made him pack only two dress robes so don’t bother …”

Ginny was all relief. “So you think you’ll like it here?”

I didn’t think so. The idea of sharing a bed - even a huge one - with Narcissa didn’t appeal to me. I’m not a masochist and I know a lot of things I’m rather doing in bed as providing myself with deflating charms.

And I knew I’d need one with Narcissa in my bed - thanks to Filius Flitwick and his silly idea at the staff’s Christmas party. But I shouldn’t blame him for me being too slow. I could have conjured the two chairs he said he’d need for the little show he wanted to do. Only I was distracted by Minerva and so I almost jumped as I heard Filius: “Severus, Albus - why don’t you take your wives on your laps? I could use your chairs then …”

Severus looked as if he’d hex Filius for this idea. He hates to display his affection for his wife in public. Yet his wife never was shy. She was already climbing on his lap, laying her arm around his shoulder and happily playing with his hair.

Severus obviously thought that shared embarrassment is half embarrassment. He produced a smile which reminded me of a shark looking at a fat herring. “Narcissa is Albus in the habit of biting you or why you’re so reluctant?” he asked.

“Perhaps Narcissa doesn’t like Albus’ bonny knees.” Alastor who was our guest this evening patted on his knees. “Mine are more comfortable, lassie …”

Narcissa, who had blushed, smiled at Alastor. “What a flattering offer! Yet I think I’ll prefer my husband. His knees will do nicely. He’s got so much fabric over it, I won’t feel any bones.” And with saying so she sat down on my lap - a bit stiff and keeping her legs firmly on the ground, not leaning back on me.

Nevertheless her sweet weight and her warmth got on me. I smelled her perfume, I looked at her neck - she was wearing her hair in a bun once again, so her neck was free and the creamy, silken skin tempted me. I wanted to kiss it, to lick over it, to suck at it - she always liked when I did that and the love marks I let on her she wore “with pride”, as she once told me.

Filius needed an eternity to prepare the bloody chairs - and in this time I discovered that my member still possesses a mind of its own. Narcissa on my lap made it rising and me sweating. I tried to shift a bit for getting her away from my groin. It wasn’t a good idea. It made her lean back a bit and lay a hand on my shoulder, whispering in my ear: “Am I too heavy? Is your leg hurting?”

It didn’t - but her asking for it reminded me that I’m an old man who shouldn’t harbour inappropriate ideas when getting a beauty on his lap. Yet my penis didn’t seem to think so. He refused to get down again over the entire evening. Back in my quarter I had a long debate with him, but he’s stubborn. So am I - I got him a cold shower finally.

Unfortunately cold showers aren’t exactly doing well with another joy of my old age - my bloody rheumatic. This I learned on the morning after the staff party. I could hardly crawl because my knee was swollen and as Raven bumped against by breakfast I felt for doing a yodel. Unfortunately she noticed and told her mother: “Mummy, Pops’ leg is hurting.”

Narcissa immediately started clucking. Looking at me she said: “You look terribly, Albus. You’re much too pale you&you’ve got dark shadows around your eyes again. Didn’t you sleep well?”

“Don’t fuss. I’m fine,” I said. Yet in the same moment Raven’s kitten decided to jump on my lap. Landing on the aching knee it made me bite my bottom lip and my sweet wife shaking her head.

“It’s your rheumatic again, isn’t it?” she asked. “I’ll get you a cooling gel for it …” She already was on her way out.

The idea of her hands on my knee - I’d probably need an ice pack for my member to survive that without embarrassing myself. So I said: “Don’t bother, Narcissa. I’ll go to see Madame Pomfrey after breakfast.”

Actually I hoped I could “for#822#8221; it - I never was keen for going to the hospital wing and have our mediwitch fussing about me, but Narcissa obviously knows me and my tendency to “forget” such things too well. She decided to accompany me to the infirmary and as I told her that I know Hogwarts well enough to find my way without being lead, she smiled her sweetest smile at me: “Of course you know Hogwarts, dear Albus. Only it’s a rather long way - especially if one marches through the dungeons first, stopping at a certain lap and getting a painkiller there …” She really knows me well - if she wouldn’t have been with me, I’d really tried to get a painkiller from Severus. So I got a cooling gel and a rather lengthy speech by our mediwitch - something about giving myself more rest, not staying up all night, drinking fire whiskey with Alastor and Augustus, eating more vegetables instead of sweets and lying down, getting the leg up instead of “playing the hero” … Poppy Pomfrey is always doing well in making one feel like a defiant toddler and so I only was glad as I managed after one hour to escape her.

Venice then - it wasn’t my best time also. After showing us the guest room I thought for a short moment I’d be saved. Ginny opened another door and showed us what is to become the nursery, saying: “And here we thought, Raven could sleep the next days …”

This gave me an idea. Smiling innocently and patting at the bed I said: “I think I’ll trade with Raven.” Just this moment Draco and Raven came in and I beamed at her. “Darling, wouldn’t you like sleeping with Mummy in the great bed? I’ll sleep here then, so I won’t bother you with my snoring.”

One shouldn’t lie so poorly when Raven is around. “You don’t snore!” she said promptly.

“You don’t hear it, Darling. You’re always sleeping so fast.” I looked at Narcissa for help. She kept silent. So I added: “Your mother’s sleep is lighter.”

Raven looked irritated and then she said clearly and loudly: “How would you know? You never sleep with Mummy.”

Yes! This was what I’ve asked for! And it was noble from Narcissa that she tried to rescue me with saying quickly: “That is because your father snores!” Yet it didn’t really help. Draco didn’t believe her. He looked at me and I knew: I was in for a “man to man talk”.

Three days later Draco got me alone. We had been at the robe maker for getting him his dress robe for the installation and afterwards he’d asked me for a stroll and so we went to the strand and marched along the beach. He came quickly to the point - in this he’s not alike to Narcissa who’s always rather shy with such subjects.

Kicking a little stone forward, Draco said, without looking at me: “You probably don’t remember because you were out this time, but I sat on your bedside after the final battle …”

“I remember,” I answered. “Whenever I opened my eyes, you were there …”

“Yes, father.”

I like he sees me as his father. I feel for him like I’d feel for a son of my own. Yet I know he mostly names me “father” when the subject is grave. And so it was this time too. He kicked the stone he was playing with in the water, then he started again. “You don’t snore, father. You didn’t snore in the week I sat on your bedside. You were heavily injured, but you didn’t snore once. I don’t believe you’ve started to snore yet.”

“Draco …” I didn’t know what to say. He looked at me and there was something accusingly in his eyes. I felt a need to defend myself, but how could I have done so without blaming Narcissa? “What did you expect?” I said rather defiant. “You know your mother and I …” I searched for words. Narcissa is his mother and he loves her dearly and besides - that our marriage isn’t a true marriage, is certainly not her fault.

Draco had found another stone to kick - and did so with a lot of energy. “I thought it’s better now,” he said. “I really believed. Your last letters - hers and yours - sounded better. And Severus - I saw him last week in Rome as he was to buy ingredients there - even said you’d get along pretty well.”

“We do, Draco, we really do,” I assured the boy. “She’s a wonderful mother and a great teacher and you know, I appreciate her very much. We’re not battling or being mean with each other …”

The next stone landed in the water. “Albus, you might say it’s no business of mine,” Draco said slowly. “But I care for you and my mother - and I worry.” Looking directly at me out of his grey blue eyes which are so alike to his mother’s, he asked: “How long will you blame her for making a mistake? I’ve always thought you were some one who’s able to forgive and give people a real second chance.”

“Draco …” I was on a loss for words once again. “I think you’re judging me wrong. It’s not about me blaming your mother. I’ve long before forgiven her or - better said: I never really blamed her. It was much more my fault as hers.”

He hadn’t found a new stone, but kicked the sand now. “Why, Albus?” Another kick. “Why the hell are you doing that to her?”

“What do I do to her? Did she complain?” I sounded sharper as I actually intended to.

“She would never complain! You know her. She’d rather die as complain about you! You could probably beat her once a day and she’d still defend you, saying that it was her fault!” He almost screamed. “But why do you keep her away from you?” Imitating Raven’s voice he said: “You never sleep with Mummy.”

I sighed. “Draco, must I really explain to you that a marriage means more as sleeping together?”

“So it’s true …” he said slowly. Pushing his hands in the pockets of his trousers, he suddenly looked like the sulking boy he’d been back in his first years at Hogwarts. “It’s not only a sleeping arrangement, but more. You don’t have sex with her.”

I felt really odd. Talking with my stepson about my love life - or better said, the lack of having one - certainly isn’t what I’d count under “pleasant ways to spend an afternoon”. But Draco is young. One can’t expect he understands already everything. So I sighed again and tried to explain. “Draco, I’m an old man. And your mother is 80 years my junior …”

“This she always was,” he said weary. “It didn’t bother you in former times.”

“It always bothered me,” I corrected him. “But before the war I thought I could make up for it.”

“And now you don’t think so anymore?” Draco asked. “What has changed?”

“I - and my belief in myself.” I felt very old and sad. “I proved that I’m not the man she deserves. I let her down in a situation where she’d really have needed my support. I messed up her life and I destroyed our love.”

“Did you?” Once again a gaze out of this eyes which remind me so much on Narcissa’s. Only she doesn’t look so sceptical at me. “You just said, you’d appreciate her.”

“I do - of course I do. But that’s not about me. How do you think does your mother feel against the man who disappointed her so much?” It hurt to think about and it hurt even more to talk about.

Draco smiled almost mocking. “As far as I know: She married him.”

“Only because I made it the condition for her coming back,” I said, feeling weary by it.

“But she did come back!” Draco insisted.

“Not to me, Draco. She came back to Raven and you - as you should know. You were the one who asked her to come back.”

“You think, she wouldn’t have come back if asked by you?”

I sighed. “She ran away from me …” The conversation started to go under my skin and I wished to finish it. “And she didn’t come back in four years. She only did after you found and asked her.”

“And here we go again …” Draco sighed too. “Let’s try another way then. Father - if she would have come back to you, would you have taken her back? I mean, all the way? Back in your heart, back in your bed?”

Now it was me who had found a stone and kicked it. Quietly I said: “I don’t know, Draco. I really don’t know. I actually don’t like repeating mistakes.”

Draco went to a bench nearby. Seating down, he braced his head in his hands. “As Severus and I found you on the battle field,” he started slowly, “I thought you were death. There was so much blood and you didn’t move and you didn’t react to our voices. I really thought you were death and I started to cry and I pulled you in my arms. And then suddenly, you opened your eyes and you tried to speak. You couldn’t - there was only blood coming out of your mouth. But I think I understood nevertheless. You thought I’d be her! You tried to say her name! And later, as you were at St. Mungo’s - do you remember, Albus? As they washed your wounds, you screamed in pain - and then, seeingstanstanding next to you, you said ‘Narcissa’ and although you were close to death, you smiled!”

I sat next to the trembling boy and laid my arm around his shoulder. “I think I remember …”

“Do you?” He looked accusingly again. “Do you remember the night after the battle? They couldn’t stop the cramps you got as after waves of the crucios directed at you and your wounds were breaking open again and you’d already lost too much blood and the healer said he couldn’t do more for you and it would need something like a miracle for you making it through. But then I took you in my arms and you looked once again at me, smiling and saying “Narcissa”. And then you calmed down and the cramps stopped and you fell asleep!”

“My sight is blurry without the spectacles …” I said a bit awkward.

He stamped his foot down. “Albus! When did you stop loving her?”

“Draco, once again: That’s not about me. It’s about your mother …” I said slowly.

“So you would have taken her back? If she would have wanted?” He can be very persistent.

“I don’t think I’m the man she needs.”

“Oh sweet Merlin!” He was on his legs again. “You’re the man she’s married to! And you’re the man she loves! Are you gone blind, Albus? Don’t you see how she looks at you? Are you deaf so you can’t hear the tenderness in her voice whenever she says your name? She loves you. Even if you aren’t the ideal husband - you are her husband and I think it’s high time you start to act as a husband!”

Since then I’m chewing on that. Acting as a husband … I’d love to … if she’d love me … if only she’d love me. Draco says she does. But it’s hard to believe. I did so wrong on her. And I’m an old man. When I look in the mirror I see a withered face and a soft, weak body. And she is still so young and so beautiful. And she is distant. Draco means to hear tenderness in her voice and to see love in her eyes - but I remember how rigid she became a few weeks before as I kissed her. She didn’t slap me, but she didn’t react. She only stood there, stiff and cold as a statue. And as I tried to make a lame joke for getting us out of the situation she laid her hand over her lips as if she’d want to rub the taste of me away.

But … I want her back. And perhaps, with time … only I can’t afford that she feels harassed by me. We have to live together for Raven and for … I should nevertheless try to get her back. And perhaps Draco is right and she really loves me …


Letter from Draco Malfoy
to Narcissa Dumbledore
Venice, February 2, 2005


Mother,

you drive me nuts! I really should send Albus and you a bill for “marriage counselling” now! I spend more time with writing letters to you as I manage to spend with Ginny. I only wait until she complains about feeling neglected. Then I send her directly to Hogwarts - to hex you and Albus! Perhaps in suffering together from boils or whatever she’d provide you with the both of you would come to sense at last.

I really don’t know where your problem is. You keep telling me it’s all so difficult and Albus is avoiding you again, always hiding behind his work and disappearing every evening to another appointment. Yet he complains about you being as cold as an ice-cube (he of course chose other words. Therefore he needed four inches of parchment for expressing that), always busy with your work and Raven and your horses and your classes and what ever else. And he wouldn’t stand a chance to spend any time with you alone because you were never there when he is at home.

By reading your letters I wonder: How do the two of you find time to write letters if you are too busy to find time for talking with each other? And why the hell (forgive me my French, but this makes for it!) can’t you drop him a note, telling him you’d like to spend some time with him? I’m sure he’d make it. He’d probably even let down the entire Wizengamot, the International Council of Warlocks and all ministers around Europe for being with you. So actually … Mother, why don’t you simply ask him to come in your bed as soon as possible? That’s what you want and that’s what he wants and if the both of you would only stop to play this idiotic “But I can’t do the first step” game you could have a lot of fun together. But instead you’re acting like the teenagers you’re teaching - both of you!

Mother, believe me: Albus loves you. But when it comes to love he obviously isn’t our great hero. He’s fretting like a 13 year old who’s just struggling through his first crush! He’s afraid you wouldn’t love him anymore and he obviously isn’t as though as we all always think, but a little lamb. But you’re a big girl. So help him. He needs help.

Best you start now. So please don’t answer this letter, but move this butt Albus loves so much to droll at down the stairs and put it right on your husband’s lap, whispering something like “Let me have my wicked ways with your wand” or “I’d love so much to ride your broomstick” in his ear. You’ll see: It will work!

I’m going to tell my wife now that I’d like to do what I hope my mother and my stepfather are doing all night too. And I hope the next owl I’ll get from Hogwarts isn’t about “I can’t …” and “I’d like, only …”, but about how nice it is to shag Albus. It must be nice now because you don’t have the trouble with all this hair anymore. I’ve always wondered how he avoided to get this ghastly beard of his tangled by shagging, but obviously he managed and obviously you liked it. I’m convinced you’d like it even more now and so: JUST DO IT, Mother! Or must I really come to Hogwarts for transfiguring a bed to run after you where ever you go, screaming loudly: “Just hop in and get it done”?

I’m a Transfigurations master. I can do that. And I will do if you don’t tell me soon you’ve finally laid your husband!

Your loving son
Draco

Letter from Draco Malfoy
to Narcissa Dumbledore
Venice, February 17, 2005

Dear Mother,

I worry. Except of a very short letter from Albus which came with a book I’ve asked him for and only said that you’re “well, but very busy” I haven’t heard from you the last days. I actually hope this means that you’re very busy with shagging like bunnies in spring time, but I’d really like to hear that from yourself. So would you perhaps interrupt for a moment whatever you amuses yourselves with and drop me a note?

Your loving and ng ang and worrying
Draco

Letter from Narcissa Dumbledore
to Draco Malfoy
Hogwarts, February 19, 2005

My most beloved son,

sometimes I really wonder: You were brought up by French governesses and a tutor out of an old and noble family. You attended Hogwarts, a really renowned school. You studied at the Sorbonne, a university known for high standards. So where pray tell me did you acquire this language? “Shagging” - this sounds to me like what my students do in the greenhouse, on the astronomy tower or in dark corners! And as much as I’d like to come close to your stepfather - I really don’t intend to “shag” him on a greenhouse between Dee Sprout’s flesh eating cauliflowers and the poisonous ivy! It may be possible that fighting not only with robes, but with the ivy too gives some people a special kick, but thank you very much, I’m still not so “advanced” in my likings. I think a bed and what’s called “intercourse” would do nicely for me.

And here we are, my curious child and the answer to your question is: No. We didn’t - yet.

I see you turn your eyes, but before you send the owl back with another prove of your language lacking noblesse and with more advise on how “to lay” your stepfather I’m going to answer the question you certainly will ask next: Why not?

The answer is quite simple: We didn’t come close because we couldn’t find the time for it. Fate - or name it Hogwarts and the wizard’s worlds and the demands coming from there to us - doesn’t seem to like us. The last weeks we wouldn’t have got more then five minutes in a dark corner - and I think even you will understand that this wouldn’t do.

You don’t believe me? So let me send you a copy of my diary - and before you ask how I manage to write in such length and why I do so instead of pounding your dear stepfather through his mattress (you see: I learn from my students. They’re very creative when it comes to naming what they would like to have as their favourite pastime): Writing diary is something one can do for one self. One doesn’t need one’s husband close for doing it.

So - and now to the diary for giving you an idea what “living at Hogwarts” means:


Thursday, February 12, 2005
8:00 a.m.
Albus goes for the International Wizard Conference in Copenhagen.

8:30 a.m. - 7:30 p.m.
Narcissa teaches, grades essay, gives riding lessons, prepares for class, plays with Raven.

7:30 p.m. - 8:30 p.m.
Narcissa puts Raven in bed.

8:30 p.m. - 10:00 p.m.
Narcissa rides her horses.

10:30 p.m.
Narcissa is back from the stable and falls asleep on the sofa.

11:30 p.m.
Albus comes back, wakes Narcissa and sends her in bed.

Friday, February 13, 2005

4:30 a.m.
Peeves put Mrs Norris II in armour in the Slytherin common room. A few first years get a shock, Severus tries to hex Peeves, Peeves flies, the Bloody Baron chases him through the castle, everybody becomes awaken because Peeves screams like mad, the headmaster is needed to stop Peeves throwing books through the library.

6:45 a.m.
Breakfast - and we’re both yawning and wishing for bed, but only for a bit more of sleep.

6:55 a.m.
A hysterical Hufflepuff second year storms the hall, crying that she just saw dementor coming out of my office.

6:57 a.m.
A Slytherin first year is found fainted a few steps away from my office. Moaning Myrtle floats her toilet because she just saw “the ghost of Tom Riddle”.
By this it becomes clear: Peeves has somehow managed to set the bogart free I keep for exercises in the old wardrobe in my office.
I go to get him back … and find it a bit draining because the bogart appears as my bleeding, dying husband.

8:30 a.m.
The bogart is in the closet again. Albus is on his way to a meeting in the ministry, I’m to teach a double class Slytherin-Gryffindor Seventh years.

12:30 a.m.
Lunch - and oh joyful day: We manage to speak to each other for a minute before Albus gets caught by Professor Granger who has a few new ideas about her subject to talk about with the headmaster.

1:30 p.m.
Albus has to talk with a Slytherin sixth year who obviously doesn’t believe when Snape tells him, that even a pureblood from a rich family can become expelled.
I give Raven a riding lesson.

3:30 p.m.
I grade essays and prepare for the next day, Albus is busy in his office.

4:30 p.m.
Staff conference in preparation for parent’s day. Severus grumbles about this new invention, Hermione rants about his bad mood, Minerva rebukes them for keeping “their marital arguments in private”, Albus becomes bored and starts to play in making the parchment in front of my fold and fly around, our new muggle studies teacher starts babbling about her favourite subject again (the sexual education of our students), Albus becomes even more bored and makes his tea cup waltzing around the table, Filius is inflicted (as mostly) by Albus’ playfulness and makes his mug doing a tango with Albus’ cup, Sinistra says tight lipped that she sometimes feels as if she were in a kindergarten, Severus and Hermione make up and fondle each other under the table, Trelawney comes out of her stupor and prophesies Severus’ death, Dee Sprouts whispers in my ear: “Probably from exhaustion - but at least he’ll die in bed!”, Binns suddenly starts to talk about the Goblin’s war in 1303 and Hagrid snores so loudly that I can’t doze.
Did I already mention that I love staff conferences?

6:30 p.m.
Dinner - unfortunately without Albus. He tries to calm down Minerva who’s once again furious after the staff conference.

7:30 p.m.
Raven is “totally pissed” (Albus says she learned that language from my son. I have to talk with the brat about that!) because she’s the only poor child in the entire world who’s always send to bed so early and all other children are allowed to play as long as they want and we’re really mean and she doesn’t want to go in bed and she hates us. Albus must become severe for stopping her and I feel lousy afterwards.

8:00 p.m.
I’m in a hurry - I have to go down to the hall for my duel club. It’s obviously something the students like: I started with 16 of them and now I’ve got 120. It’s too much and so I’ll have to make it two groups and two evenings soon.

9:00 p.m.
Albus joins the duel club and offers himself as partner for a little demonstration. His smile makes for a slip on my concentration. So his sleeping spell hits me fully.
Comment of a (female) Hufflepuff fourth year the next morning: “It was so romantic! The Headmaster caught you in his arms and then he smiled and said he’d have to take his sleeping beauty upstairs now. And he carried you all the way with your hair floating over his shoulder.”
Romantic! My foot! I felt the next morning as if I’d have trampled over by a herd of hippogriffs!


Saturday, February 14, 2005

8:30 a.m.
Never count on Raven as a clock. If you need to become knocked up, she certainly sleeps in - and so does all the family this morning what makes for wild running through the flat - and where are Albus’ spectacles? He’s sure he put them on his nightstand, but they aren’t there and he doesn’t want to accio them because as he last did they hit a door and got broken and after the “reparo” they didn’t suit on his nose anymore and while we search, Severus comes and tells us, the first parents are popping in and Minerva just went crazy because some one played around with the wards of the under gates and now the muggle parents are lost in the grounds.
Albus runs down without his spectacles, falls almost over his robe and is promptly caught by pompous old Hewlewitt who bothers him with his ideas about what our students should learn. Raven in the meantime finds the spectacles - of course not on the nightstand, but on the mantelpiece in my bedroom. Albus let them there as he put me in bed. Raven runs down to bring Albus his glasses.

9:30 a.m.
The castle is swarming with parents. I’m with a group of muggles, giving them the great tour. Albus is nowhere, but Raven used her chance to sneak in Severus’ lab. He’s livid, kicks her out and shouts through the dungeons: “One day I’ll make you a potion ingredient!now now at least five recipes for brats as you …”
One silly muggle mother obviously believes him and becomes hysterically. Hermione steps in, telling that her husband only bellows, but never bites what brings a muggle father to the question if it’s true that we’ve employed a vampire as a teacher? And what do we do to make clear he doesn’t bite children?
Albus plays deus ex machina, just waltzing in the dungeons in this moment, smiling his benevolent smile and saying: “No, no - we don’t have a vampire in our employment. We’ve only had a werewolf, but he rarely visits since he’s married.”
“To another werewolf?” one of the muggles asks.
Albus, probably with his thoughts already elsewhere, says over his shoulder: “No, she isn’t a werewolf. She’s a metamorph. I wonder what their children will become … probably …” In walking away he chuckles: “Werewolves with pink fur - that would be nice …”
The silly muggle mother who thought of Severus as a vampire whispers to me: “He’s mental, isn’t he?”
Severus hears it and answers loudly: “His therapist says he isn’t dangerous as long as no one feds him lemon drops. But when he’s on a sugar high one should keep away from him …”
I try to get the group as quickly as possible out of the dungeons, promisihem hem a tour through the green houses.

11:00 a.m.
The first and second years do a transfiguration show in the Entrance Hall. A number goes wrong and a muggle mother starts a debate about animal protection in Hogwarts while a livid Minerva changes the six-legged toad back in a spider. Albus maintains he’d have spoken with a goblet once and it would have told him it would like to become a rat. The muggle mother looks unbelieving (I can’t blame her), Albus makes puppy eyes and says: “Maybe it was the other way round. Maybe I asked the rat if she’d like to become a goblet.”

12:30 a.m.
Lunch. The muggle mother who thinks Albus is mental seats next to me and pays me a compliment: “You look like the only sensible person in this madhouse.” Then she wants to know who this red haired madman was she just talked to. “He is fascinated by plugs!” I tell her he’s our minister and she finds he looks even more mental #822#8220;this old crackpot who’s your superior, poor dearie!”
I answer - a bit icy, I must admit - that the “old crackpot” is incidentally my husband and then I have to save Dee Sprout who’s choking on her soup.

2:30 p.m.
I’m down at the stables, showing our horses. A super clever loudmouth asks when Inschallah will become “her” filly and tells with a loud voice that a “true horseman” sees the gender of a horse by looking in its face.

3:30 p.m.
One shouldn’t try to explain quidditch to a group of muggles. It’s really no cricket.

4:30 p.m.
Raven spends the entire match running from one stand to the other. Now Ravenclaw is leading against Gryffindor and she - daughter of a Gryffindor father - can’t keep seat still for a second.
The muggle mother I like so much takes this for a reason to ask me if witch mothers know about a disease called “ADS” - Attention Deficit Syndrome. It makes children “hyper active” and needs treatment. She’d like to give me more information.
I can’t resist any longer. I tell her that I’m a witch. Therefore I like my husband mental and my child hyper active. I wonder: Should I have told her that my son is not only mental and hyperactive, but a sexual maniac too?

8:30 p.m.
Thank to the Gods, the parents are gone and our hyperactive child is at last in bed! Albus says he would like to celebrate a party, but half one hour later he sleeps on the sofa. I find the thought of waking him too cruel and besides: I’m feeling rather groggy myself. So I only put my head in his lap …

11:30 p.m.
Raven wakes us with the question if we don’t think we’d sleep better in bed. Albus obviously gets an idea and asks me if I wouldn’t like to share his bed. Unfortunately Raven thinks a family cuddle is just what he healer ordered for her too (probably it helps against being hyperactive) and so Albus and I end up in one bed - with Raven between us. And in the contrast to her father: Raven snores.


Sunday,
February 15, 2005

8: 30 a.m.
Breakfast at home. Lovely.

9: 30 a.m.
Albus wants to do a little stroll for stretching his legs, Raven wants to ride her pony. We walk down to the stable and there Albus and I are for a moment alone - but then Raven is back and wants to show us how gallgallops. By watching we become approached by the McGonagalls. Minerva uses her chance to talk school’s business with Albus and I find myself discussing politic with Augustus while looking longingly at Albus.

12:00
Albus has to leave for the 1000 year anniversary at Beauxbaton.
Minerva obviously thinks it’s time we become closer and invites me for dinner and a game of chess on her flat in the evening.

11:00 p.m.
By coming back from the McGonagalls - and it actually was a nice evening - I miss Albus. He isn’t back yet. I decide to wait for him and sleep in on the sofa.

3:00 p.m.
Waken up with an aching back I look at Albus’ bedchamber. He still isn’t there. I start worrying and pace for half one hour through the flat, thinking about what could haven happen to him.

3:30 p.m.
I’m panicking. I simply can’t imagine he is still at Beauxbaton.

4:00 p.m.
I’m in tears and can’t stand it any longer. I run down and knock on the McGonagall’s door. A sleepy Augustus opens; I tell him that Albus is missed. He asks me in, Minerva comes in her dressing gown and says she can’t imagine either and while we both fuss and ring our hands, Augustus floos the headmistress of Beauxbaton. He learns that Albus left there around 8:30. Minerva and I cling to each other, I cry on her shoulder. Augustus obviously feels bothered by two crying wives and says he needs a bit of fresh air for thinking. He steps out of the balcony - and comes immediately back, running like mad through the room and out of the door, screaming: “Just a moment …”
Three minutes later he’s back, beaming: “If the ladies would accompany me? I have to show you something …” He walks us to the head tower and in Albus’ office where we find my husband, sleeping with his head on his desk. Augustus found him there - after he was on the balcony and saw that the flag on the main tower wasn’t red as it is when Minerva is the highest authority in residence, but white - what means: The headmaster is in the castle. Minerva and I look at each other, biting our lips. None of us had thought to look at the flag.
Minerva hugs me and gripping her husband’s sleeve, she sneaks away with him on tiptoes while I kiss Albus. But ... more as kis we we don’t do this night. I’m entirely groggy, I hardly manage to stumble up the stairs and I fall asleep in the moment my head hits the pillow.


Monday, February 16, 2005

8: 30 a.m.
We slept in - small wonder after this night and so we have both to run, I for my classes, he for a meeting.

11:30 a.m.
My first break. By coming to the staff room I learn that Albus once again messed around in my curriculum. He always does and I hate it. I storm up to the main tower.

11:35 a.m.
Severus just leaves the main tower, trampling almost over me. He’s furious - and so is Albus after having a row with Severus. My telling him that I don’t like the new curriculum doesn’t brighten his mood. He becomes headmasterly, telling me that I shouldn’t use my position as his wife in arguing with him as my superior. I leave him, banging the door shout behind me.

12:30
Lunch - without Albus. I’m not too unhappy about. I’m still furious with him.

3:30 p.m.
That’s really not my day. In my double class Slytherin-Gryffindor sixth year two students (of course a Gryffindor and a Slytherin) hex each other. While I try to get the jinxes off on them, Miss Weasley (the niece of Ginny) and her friend Miss Levis decide to play pranksters and make a few firebusters explode. Just at this moment Severus passes my door - and of course, he must show his big nose, asking loudf I f I can’t keep my class quiet. I hate becoming criticised in front of my pupils, so I tell them that I don’t want to hear a single peep from them, march out and tell him that I really can do without his “advise” and that his arrogance is going on my nerves. He bites back that I’m obviously not qualified to teach. That’s the last straw. I threat to hex him - and just this moment my dear husband sweeps down the hall, asking with his best headmaster voice: “Professors - do you have a problem?” Severus sneers: “Your dear wife just wanted to hex me.” I bark: “Severus criticised me in front of my students!” - “If you would keep your classes quiet, I mustn’t get in!” he bellows with his face becoming red. “In the contrast to you I don’t believe in frightening children!” - “Ah?” His eyebrow almost reaches his hair line. “Therefore your classes are always to hear through the entire castle!” Albus looks as if he’d like to throttle both of you and roars: “Stop this immediately! I’m really not in the mood for your bickering! Severus, you keep away from Narcissa. If she’s having a problem with her classes, I’ll solve it. Narcissa - don’t you have to teach?”
I feel like a child just getting a dressing down by daddy and trot back in my class, fuming.

4:00 p.m.
Entering the staff room, Minerva approaches me: “Dear - rows between the professors really aren’t good for their authority! We should show unity in front of students, don’t you think?”
I think about killing Albus - slowly and painfully. And when ready with him, I’m going to murder Severus.

4:30 p.m.
One shouldn’t mount a horse when in such a mood. Inschallah doesn’t like me being so aggressive, becomes aggressive too and starts buckling. I get a free flight - from the saddle to the muddy ground. Great. Really great. Especially because Severus just comes along, asking sweetly if he should help me up.

5:15 p.m.
Limping through the hall, plastered with mud, I met my husband - accompanied by one of the governors who stares at me as if I were something the cat got out of a dirty corner. Albus raises an eyebrow, looks at me over the rim of his spectacles and casts a cleaning charm on me. I once again feel like an idiotic child. I really could have thought of a cleaning charm myself.

6:30 p.m.
Dinner - and we still have the governor as our guest and he seats next to me and asks me how I manage to teach, to ride and to look after my child and my husband. He finds it must be hard to do so much without “neglecting a wife’s duties”. And he says he’s so glad his wife is “old-fashioned” enough to stay at home. As much as “working women&#; wo; would impress him - he’d enjoy a peaceful marital life. Hermione Granger, seating next to me, looks as if she’d like to hold my cloak while I hex the idiot, but my dear husband pretends not hearing and chatters cheerfully away with Severus. Traitor!

8:00 p.m.
Raven is in bed, I hide in my study, grading essays and sulking.

10:30 p.m.
Albus acts diving duck. He only looks in for yawning and saying: “I’m off to bed - it was a long day. Night, Narcissa.” COWARD!

Tuesday, February 17, 2005

8:00 a.m.
The diving duck has already taken flight as I come down to breakfast. And Raven is gone too - she was picked up by her friend Aubrey. So I go to the great hall where Hermione tells me that she gave her husband a good piece of her mind in the evening and made him sleep on the sofa. We agree about all men being idiots.

8:30 a.m.
Just as I’m on my way to class, Augustus and Albus come down the stairs. Albus looks very much the imposing headmaster in a forest green velvet robe and a matching hat. Although I’m still angry with him - I find him breath taking and would so like to kiss him. But we’re surrounded by students and so it’s only a “Good morning, Albus” and a “Good morning, Narcissa. I’m on my way to the Auror’s Academy for supervising exams. Don’t wait for me this evening - I’ll be late.”
Of course he’ll be late. He’s always late when he is at the Academy because he mostly meets Alastor Moody there and Albus, Augustus and Alastor on one place makes always for sharing a bottle of fire whiskey and a lot of old stories from their glorious youth. Yet I’m not angry about that. Albus rarely has an opportunity to let his hair down.

1:00 p.m.
I’m late for lunch, but not too late for becoming asked by Minerva if I’d like to join her, Irma Pince, Poppy Pomfrey, Hermione Granger and Dee Sprout for a drink in the evening at the “Three Broomsticks”. I feel rather flattered because I was never before asked for one of the famous “girl’s evenings” and so of course I agree to come. I know, Albus will like me coming closer to my female colleagues. And having a drink with them certainly will be nicer as grading essays in my study.

2:00 a.m.
I’m a bit tippsy. I have had too much wine and my tummy almost hurts from laughing and giggling all evening. It was such a nice evening and I really like the ladies. I’d never thought Minerva could be this funny! But away from school and from her role as the severe head of Gryffindor she’s really showing humour.
But by coming home I miss Winky, our house elf. I asked her to baby sit Raven - and now she’s gone and Raven isn’t in her bed! I become immediately r - r - sober enough to have a look at Albus’ bedchamber where a rather touching scene awaits me: Albus lays on his back, sleeping deeply with Raven’s dark head on his shoulder and her little hand on his chest. I undress and slipping under the blanket on Albus’ side I find that Raven isn’t the only one who wanted to be close to him. Her kitten is warming his always cold feet. I snuggle cloto hto him and he grumbles something in his sleep, pulling me closer. I ily ily lay my lips against his neck - and yes, it’s actually nice there isn’t so much hair anymore - and fall asleep.


Wednesday, February 18, 2005

8:00 a.m.
That’s going to be my day! Albus asks at breakfast if I’d like to spend the evening with him and a bottle of wine. I agree under the condition that he will drink the wine while I keep to tea. I’m still a bit under the weather because of all the wine I drank yesterday. But I’m so looking forward to an evening with him at home!

10:30 a.m.
In the staff room Severus tries to provoke me. I think he’s still angry because Hermione is cross with him. And knowing her I think he’s still sleeping on the sofa. But I feel too happy for letting him go under my skin and sweep away, smiling.

12: 30
Lunch in the hall - and it really looks as if this were my day! I meet Albus in the threshold and he smiles at me, asking if I’d feel better. I tell him that I feel wonderful and get a twinkle back which makes my knee become jelly and my stomach flutter. He takes my hand and whispers: “Let’s seat together, shall we? I want to have you close to me …”
We find two free chairs and by seating down I whisper in his ear: “I’m looking forward to our evening at home.”
For the rest of the meal I’m on cloud 9 ½. I even don’t notice what I’m eating - and so I eat carrots although I really detest them and Miss Heidker, a very pretty sixth year Gryffindor, who knows my taste because we often seat together by meals, wonders about and I even don’t hear her because I’m day dreaming. It’s Albus who gets me back to reality (and what a wonderful reality it is today), laughing out loud and saying: “Narcissa probably needs carrots for keeping her strength. She̵marrmarried to me - that makes for needing a lot of vitamins …” The way he speaks my name … it’s like a tender touch and makes me wish … but we’re in the great hall, surrounded by hundreds of students and obliviating students is only allowed in cases of emergencies … and unfortunately my need to kiss my husband isn’t an emergency though I feel it’s a rather urgent need.

8:00 p.m.
Raven seems to feel that we’re up to something what means: She doesn’t want to go in bed. But Albus manages to calm her down and finally and after two bedtime stories she’s sleeping.

8:30 p.m.
I seat in front of the fireplace in our living room, Albus comes just up - he has changed his heavy robe against a long, silken shirt in blue. The colour makes his eyes even more beaming. I’m so much in love with him …

8:35 p.m.
We decide against wine and for two cups of his special cocoa.

8:40 p.m.
His kiss tastes like heaven with chocolate. I close my eyes and let my hand wander over his chest - he really is too thin, but I feel his heart beating and how his nipple hardens under my fingers.

8:43 p.m.
The alarm from the office rings. Some one is coming up. At this time this can only mean an emergency. Albus has to go down in the office.
I hope so very much it’s something he can handle in a few minutes.

8:51 p.m.
Albus comes up again, looking grave: “We have a situation. I think your help is needed.” He accios our cloaks, calls for Woopy looking after Raven and on the way down he explains: A fifth year Slytherin girl is missing. Severus tried several location charms in the castle, but couldn’t find her. She must be out on the grounds.
We run down and out of the front doorth dth doing location spells. Mine gets a spark out of the dark forest. Unfortunately locations spells don’t work there exactly - in the forest is too much magic. That means we have to do a search.
Albus goes back for collecting the other teachers, I march down to get Hagrid.

9:05 p.m.
We meet again at the border to the dark forest and part: Minerva and Augustus will search in the south, Dee Sprout and Hagrid go west in direction of the gates, Albus goes north (I actually hate he will go alone, but it can’t be helped), Severus and I are going east while Hermione and Sinistra will search the grounds around the lake. Filius and Charly take up to search west.

11:30 p.m.
It rains heavily, our warming charms are wearing off and Severus doesn’t curse anymore. He’s terrified - and so am I. Where’s the child? I think of Raven and how I would feel if she were missing.

0:30 a.m.
I’m frozen stiff and my feet feel like ice and a centaur made me jump and almost lose my wand. Where’s the child? We’re almost on the border of the forest on the opposite site now. Did we oversee here? Does she lay under a bush, injured, needing help? We’re becoming more and more desperate.

1:21 a.m.
At last! Over the hills blue and silver sparks lighten up the dark sky. That means: Albus found the girl - and she can’t be injured too much. If he’d need help he’d shout red sparks.
Severus is so relieved he starts cursing again. He wants to take 200 house points away and isn’t even to stop as I remind him, that the girl belongs to his house.

1:35 a.m.
I’m so stupid! For a moment I didn’t watch my way. I fall over a root and find myself face to face with a huge spider, almost as big as myself, obviously one of Aragog’s offsprings. The beast clicks with his teeth or whatever spiders are having and comes closer. Severus tries to stun it, but the spider wasn’t alone. His mates obviously don’t like stunning charms. Yet they seem to like humans - and they don’t seem to mind that we’re frozen. Probably they think about us as dessert - iced human with cold sweat. Probably very appetizing when one is a huge spider …
We’re in trouble - deeply. I keep them away with a shield charm and so I give Severus a chance to shout red sparks. Then he pulls me on my legs and we start running. Yet I’m not quick enough. I’ve hurt my ankle by falling over the root. And now one of the beasts bites me just on the leg and it hurts like hell.
Severus saves me with killing the beast which bit me, but now the others become mad. I try “Imperio” at them - and it works. At least so much we can keep them on distance to us while we stumble backwards, Severus pulling me with him.
Suddenly Augustus and Minerva are there and with their help we manage to drive the spiders away at last. But then I break down and Severus has to carry me back to the castle and up to the infirmary.
Only a few minutes later Albus comes in with the girl on his arms. She’s very cold, but not injured, so Poppy puts her in a bed, casts a warming charm and feds her a sleeping draught.
Then she tends to my leg which looks rather odd now - the ankle swollen and the calf where the beast bit me blue and red. Poppy has to cast a few very tricky charms to get the poison out of my leg and then I get a painkilling potion and a bed in the hospital wing too. She tells me that I need to stay at least for the night.
After she’s gone, Albus seats down on my bedside, holding my hand. He tells me that the child just today got a letter from her boyfriend at home, telling her that he fell in love with another girl. She ran away because she wanted to go to him, but then she got lost in the hills.
He looks exhausted and I feel that the potion works, making it hard for me to keep my eyes open. Yawning I say: AlbuAlbus, go in bed. You need rest …” He’s stubborn as always: “I don’t want to leave you.” - “I’ll sleep now. And you should sleep too - please!” - “Hmm …” He doesn’t look convinced. I beg him again and he roses up hesitantly. “Well - if you think so …” - “Yes, I do - but …” I look up at him and try a smile. “Give us a kiss before you leave, will you?” And so he bends down again and kisses me and by falling asleep I still feel his lips on mine.


So, Draco - that was my diary and our week. And now tell me: How should I have made more out of it? And this evening I’ll be with my students - duel club again. And tomorrow in the evening Albus is on a conference - and so on. I can only hope we’ll manage to get an evening for us before the holidays, but I don’t set my expectations too high. Cross your fingers for me, son! And give your wife a kiss.

Your loving
Mother


to be continued …