All Coming Back to me Now

How you remind me.



A/N: I don’t think you were expecting this when you voted for a second chapter – but it ends here, no more after this. And I’ve had my final lecture of the academic year, AND handed in another nasty (10 page) essay! Wooo! (And I’ve also eaten far too much chocolate and had too many cups of tea… so I’m rather giddy at the moment!)



We meet our couple 55 years later, with some flashbacks into their married life…





They were late, again.



Hermione sighed as the Grandfather clock chimed five times, the ‘boys’ should have been home by three o’clock.



A soft whoosh announced usage of the floo; and a tall, slim, Nordic blonde in Hogwarts robes stepped into the parlour, reaching down to open the cage that her angry feline familiar had been forced into for the train journey from Hogwarts.



“Grandma!” she said, moving to hug ‘Narcissa’ and sounding most distressed. “Grandma ‘Cissa, you have to make Grandpa stop this!” she cried, obviously unhappy.



“Sweetpea, what’s going on?” she asked, stroking her youngest Grandchild’s hair out of her blue eyes.



“Katherine got an early Christmas present… she has a full-sized poster of my Grandpa completely naked, apart from the latest nimbus covering his bits-and-bobs, on the back of the dormitory door! I wake up every morning to my Grandpa looking like he’s doing rather unmentionable things, that I caught my brother doing once, to the broom handle!”



Hermione stifled a giggle, she loved that poster, but could see how it would traumatise her Granddaughter. And she really didn’t want to know that either Carpus or Euthymius had been caught wanking by their little sister. “Lucina, have you asked if your friend would take down the poster, or perhaps place it on the wall behind her own bed?”



“Yes, she used one heck of a sticking charm on it so it won’t budge. She said she won’t move it!” Lucina sounded close to tears. “He’s my Grandpa, I don’t want to see that!”



“Calm down, sweatpea, you have Christmas at home, and I’m sure that either your Father, Uncle or Grandpa will know a spell to un-stick it.” Hermione stroked the seventeen-year-old’s cheek, “Go and change from your uniform, they’ll be back soon. Your Mother is trying to sort out an emergency with the Ministry as quickly as she can.”



Both ‘Narcissa’ and Nymphadora Lupin fell into spontaneous fits of rather unladylike giggles as the teen left the room.



“The joy of being married to a wizard with more money than sense who’s going through a mid-life crisis!” the blonde cried, tears of mirth streaming down her cheeks.



“I know exactly what you mean!” Dora replied, her hair flashing between pink and lime green as she giggled.



* * *



On Lucius’s one-hundreth birthday he’d locked himself in his study and didn’t come out for three days. One hundred was a frightening age for a wizard, very similar to the muggle big five-oh. Somewhere in that three days he’d realised that his entire life so far had been based on what his Father had taught him, and his Father before that, and his before that…



… Lucius Malfoy had absolutely no idea who he was, and had decided to find out by doing all the things Abraxas had said were ‘not suitable’ for a Malfoy heir to be doing.



After a string of new hobbies, Lucius discovered he didn’t have Van Gough’s ear for music, and actually had a little musical talent. He then began taking guitar lessons from a wizard half his age.



And there was when it all began.



Severus Snape, having point blank refused to teach for another year after the end of the war, also hit his mid-life crisis and joined his oldest friend in music. Snape, however, used his elegant and nimble fingers for the bass guitar, rather than a six-string.



Hermione hadn’t seen this as a problem, the two men were actually very good musicians; they could be found religiously practicing after their lessons, as well as playing because they enjoyed it; after two years they had become as proficient as their teachers.



Hermione hadn’t battered an eyelid at this, she had continued to play the perfect wife and happily doted on her sons, their wives and the seven Grandchildren.



But, one evening, the two guitarists visited a Jamming club, where they were re-introduced to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, a singer/guitarist and drummer, respectively – also going through a wizarding mid life crisis…



… and Dark Magic, the biggest rock band since the Weird Sisters, was born. They sold out concerts all over the wizarding world, earned enough galleons in a week to feed a third world country for a month, and Draco had appointed himself their manager to basically babysit them, leaving Aurelius to manage the Malfoy estate.



It was a bad sign when a wizard twenty-five years their junior had to keep an eye on them.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Ten minutes later, another whoosh alerted the still tittering occupants to another person in the parlour, Georgette Malfoy stepped through, banished the excess floo powder with her wand before falling gladly into a comfortable chair.



“I despair wiz ze minister! ‘e is… was… an imbecile!” she cried, shaking her head.



“What happened?” Hermione asked. The pretty woman sitting before her had met Draco at university in Paris, they’d fallen ridiculously in love and married as soon as they’d completed their courses. She was an unspeakable at the Ministry, and had evidently just saved the Minister’s arse, again.



“I cannot go into ze details, but ‘e wanted to show ze Ministry to a visiting party from Eetaly, and got ‘imself killed in ze department of mysteries!”



“He’s dead?” Hermione asked, blinking.



“Oui, ‘ee just dropped down, ‘ee was dead before ‘ee hit ze floor!” the Frenchwoman replied.



“Remind me why we voted for him?” Nymphadora said, looking puzzled.



“He promised he’d do better than his predecessors; swore not to be selfish or corruptible, and he took a wizards’s oath when he said it.” Hermione replied, shaking her head.



“Een comparison, ‘ee was doing better zan zoze before ‘eem!” Georgette said, shaking her head.



“Mother!” Lucina cried, throwing herself into her Mother’s embrace.



“I read your letter, I zink I know what spell Katherine ‘as used to stick ze poster to ze door, and I zink I ‘ave found ze counter spell for eet.”



“Thank-you so much! Really! Thank-you, thank-you, thank-you.” the teen said, giving her Mother a fierce hug.



“I think the house elves have kept dinner warm for long enough, we’ll have to start without them.” Hermione said, rising elegantly from her position on the window seat and moving for the dining room.



“Can we have their celebratory meal without them, Grandma?”



“Oui, zey ‘ave not turned up on time, zo eet ees zeir own fault eef zey go ‘ungry!” Georgette said bitterly, sending blue sparks from her wand to alert the other Malfoys in the manor to the meal. Nymphadora sent up red sparks to attract the attention of the other Lupins, who had stayed the night.



“Thank-you, Georgette, Nymphadora. Shall we?” Hermione said, leading the way.



* * *



The five course meal had been delicious, but enjoyed by five less people than it should have been. Hermione was livid by the time the band returned, six hours later. Lucius had the sense to not wake his wife by entering their shared room, and flopped down into a guest room.



***



On entering the dining room for breakfast, Hermione saw Aurelius quickly hide the Daily Prophet from her gaze, appearing quite innocent for all intents and purposes.



However, her youngest son was a Slytherin, and a Slytherin’s intents and purposes were far from innocent.



“I presume there is something I do not wish to read in this morning’s newspaper, darling?” Hermione asked, one blonde eyebrow raised into it’s surrounding fine wrinkles.



“Indeed, Mother.” Aurelius said, folding the paper and securing it to the table with a silent sticking charm so his Mother couldn’t access it.



“Is this another one of the ‘sex, drugs and rock-and-roll’ things that’s going to have to be settled with an out of court settlement?” Hermione inquired, turning as the door to the dining room opened, admitting Draco.



“Good morning, Mother.” He said, kissing her cheek before taking a seat next to his younger brother and glancing at the newspaper. “Oh, sh…..sugar.” he said, catching himself before he was hexed. Narcissa Malfoy would not stand for swearing.



“I don’t think I want to know about this, do I, Draco?” she winced as Draco moved the paper to below the table to read.



“I don’t know how to answer that, Mother… but… I…” Draco trailed off, his eyebrows rising suddenly. “Pardon me, Mother, but, oh Fuck”



“Seeing as you apologised I won’t hex you. Don’t make a habit of bad language at the table.” She chided, returning her attention to her cup of tea. She’d read the paper later and probably have to scold the payboys, otherwise known as Sirius and Severus, for their behaviour.



“I presume there was a groupie involved in this mess?” Hermione asked, sighing. Her thoughts were interrupted by two daughters-in-law, seven grandchildren, three grand-girlfriends, one grand-fiancée, one grand-daughter-in-law and the six-strong Lupin family (except Remus) entering the room en masse.



“I thought it might be a heard of hipporgriffs entering the room!” she said, accepting good mornings from her family as they sat down. Using a Slytherin nature that the former Gryffindor had developed in self defence against a house of snakes, she deftly stole one of the copies of the newspaper from a family member.



“‘Groupie manages to break secrecy charm on rock band and reveals all’...” Hermione began, the room falling silent, “‘Miss Penelope Findwater, a fan of the rock band Dark Magic, spent the night with one of the band members, and here tells all’… blah, blah, blah… ‘he was a considerate lover, with considerable sexual prowess’ Those are rather big words for a groupie… blah blah blah… ‘The charm means I cannot speak his name, which is a shame as I wanted to scream it all night’… I can’t say that at the breakfast table… I can’t believe they can print that sentence in a morning newspaper that a child might read!... blah blah blah… goodness! This goes on for six pages! ‘I am aware that I am carrying the rock star’s child and I am forming a claim for money to support him or her when he or she is born’”



Hermione/Narcissa looked up from the paper with a bemused expression. “Sirius or Severus managed to get a six page article in the Daily Prophet? And not had the sense to use a contraceptive charm in the process? We won’t hear the end of this for months!” She bemoaned, shaking her head; mentally cursing every playboy that ever lived – especially Sirius and Severus.



“I can see this being a rather large issue.” Draco said, cryptically, looking incredibly uncomfortable.



“ ‘A second magical signature is detected in my body, even though I should not have conceived so soon after…’ I can’t say that either, really, the Prophet has printed a lot of filth; ‘the magic has aided in the rapid conception’…‘I am a training curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank, and I will have to quit my job to raise this child’ … ‘and I could remove the charm enough to give a description’…” Hermione said, as the four band members entered the breakfast room, each picking up a vial of hangover relief from the sideboard; all of them still dressed in their clothes from the night before, in desperate need of a bath and a shave.



Lucius bent in to kiss his wife’s lips gently before putting his hand in his robe pocket and suddenly withdrawing it with an ‘Eurgh’ and flicking a red-something-or-other that had been stuck to his hand onto the parquet floor.



Silence followed, broken by a whisper from Aurelius to his brother: “Please tell me they’re Mother’s.”



“They appear to be crotchless.” Draco whispered back, peering at the skimpy pair of knickers in question.



“Please tell me they’re not Mother’s…” Aurelius replied, noting Narcissa’s ice-cold facial expression.



Standing elegantly from the table, Hermione aimed a spell at the underwear on the floor, the spell identified the secretions on it, and Lucius’s hair stood on end, bright blue.



“ ‘He is tall, muscular but not overly so, has long hair, bears a distinctive tattoo on his left forearm, has very pale skin…’” she broke into a sob, “And he took off his Celtic knotwork wedding ring before we…” Hermione recalling the instructions of the etiquette books she’d memorised over fifty years ago, straightened her back and rose from her seat.



She made turning her nose up at the sticky undergarment on the floor look like an art form before casually walking up to her guilty husband and slapping him sharply around the face.



***



“You fuckwit.” Sirius said after Narcissa/Hermione had calmly left the room.



“I don’t even remember doing anything!” Lucius claimed, rubbing his red cheek.



“Evidently you did though.” Severus said, looking to Remus to add his two sickles into the discussion.



“Don’t look at me! Even my werewolf constitution can’t handle six bottles of vodka! I can’t remember much past shoving some platinum-dyed slut in a tiny skirt and almost no top off my lap.”



“You drank ten bottles between you; after someone locked me out of the hotel suite with a befuddled locking charm that I couldn’t break until three this morning.” Draco said, his head in his hands.



“Grandpa?” Lucina asked, tears in her eyes. Lucius could not meet the angry gazes of anyone around the breakfast table, and especially not his youngest, and only female Grandchild. Lucina looked up to him as much as her Daddy and uncle Draco, and she fled the room in tears.



“I think this is a perfect opportunity to leave the band to themselves, come along everyone…” Nymphodora said, ushering everyone else out of the room.



***



Hermione had vanished from Malfoy Manor, leaving behind three vials of a whispy content and a pensieve on Lucius’s (hardly used) study desk. He eyed them suspiciously before putting two and two together and viewing the memories.



Three hours later, he was dragged from the last of Hermione’s thoughts by Severus, reminding him they had a sell-out stadium in Paris to get to.



***



The screaming fans had been their wildest and most enthusiastic audience to date, and had the band been in better spirits they’d have all basked in the praise and attention. However, the melancholy the four felt was enough to keep them subdued internally while they acted like they were revelling in the cheers.



“Ladies and Gentlemen! We have a surprise for you! A song from the Muggle World performed by someone different from me!” Sirius called into his magical microphone. “I give you… for one night only… Lucius Malfoy on vocals!”



The crowd went insane; witnessing Lucius sing something other than backing vocals was definitely a once in a lifetime opportunity.



***

”Never made it as a wise man

I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealin'

Tired of livin' like a blind man

I'm sick inside without a sense of feelin’

And this is how you remind me



This is how you remind me

Of what I really am

This is how you remind me

Of what I really am”



Lucius closed his eyes and thought back to the first memory Hermione had left him to look over. The night of the final battle against Vodemort, the night Hermione Granger completely became Narcissa Malfoy. He had watched her agony as Snape cast the spell, witnessed her writhe in pain as her genetic structure changed in every cell in her body, he had never before seen this scene of her giving up everything she was, just so his family could continue as if the real Narcissa had never jumped from the balcony.



She had given up everything to become a woman she didn’t know or like; She loved Draco more than his biological Mother ever had; Aurelius had blossomed even with such a tyrant under their roof; Lucius was truly happy in life…



And she’d been through physical pain worse than a sustained crucio to do it; with the mental pain of giving up everything she had once been.



“It's not like you to say sorry

I was waiting on a different story

This time I'm mistaken

For handing you a heart worth breakin'



I've been wrong, I've been down

To the bottom of every bottle

Despite words in my head

Scream "Are we having fun yet?"

Yet?, Yet?, Yet?, no no”



Another memory was of their wedding, their second according to society, exactly one year after the battle. Their bond had grown, and Lucius truly felt love, adoration and respect for the woman who had filled the shoes of his late wife and done a much better job of it.



The original legal tie between Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black had been dissolved, to be replaced by a much more profound magical bond in a new ceremony.



She wore only simple white robes and no shoes, he the same; they knelt opposite each other in the circle created by the temple priestess on the Malfoy lawn, as she bound their magical signatures together with a spell that could only be broken by their demises. Exhausted but elated, they then said the legal vows binding them as husband and wife – aware that the legal link was but an insignificant speck in comparison to their previous joining. They exchanged rings, two Platinum Celtic knots symbolising their newfound devotion to each other.



The witnesses, other than Snape, had no idea that this was an entirely new marriage. They just saw it as what it was: two people who had finally found true love making the ultimate magical commitment.



The wedding reception consisted of an informal picnic of close friends and family on the same lawn; Aurelius trying to chase the butterflies that were frequenting the various potted plants surrounding the guests while Draco held his then-girlfriend, Georgette close.



No press entered the celebration, leaving the ceremony peaceful and perfectly private; each family who celebrated took one of the planters home to brighten their own gardens.



Their wedding night occurred once Draco and Georgette carried a sleeping Aurelius to bed. They were left in the gentle breeze of the night, the hum of crickets and the comfort and respect they held for the other as they made love in the magical circle under the twinkling stars and crescent moon.





“It's not like you didn't know that

I said I love you and I swear I still do

It must have been so bad

Cause living with me must have damn near killed you



This is how you remind me

Of what I really am

This is how you remind me

Of what I really am”



The next memory had been of them waving goodbye to Aurelius as he boarded the Hogwarts Express for the fist time. Hermione had tears running down her cheeks as she waved, elegantly dashing them away with her hand.



“My baby.” She sobbed, smiling.



“He’s eleven, love.” He’d replied, as if it wasn’t obvious the curly-haired blonde wasn’t an infant.



“He should hopefully have a peaceful academic career.” She said, remembering back to her trials and tribulations of school.



“He’ll be in Slytherin.” Lucius said proudly.



“I would not be so sure, he’s very intelligent – qualities of Ravenclaw.” She replied, her tears gone.



“And he’s driven, can think around corners, has an alarming ability to manipulate a situation to his advantage, he can cheat…”



“You’re not still sulking because he beat you, fair and square, at Scrabble last night, are you?” she laughed, taking his arm as they walked to the station office to use the floo.



“He must have cheated!” Lucius said, not noticing that it wasn’t just his wife that sniggered. The other parents waiting for the floo were listening with amusement.



“No, but I think the three glasses of wine you’d had might have been a reason for your lack of vocabulary…” she teased.



“I could have drunk three bottles and still beat him! I tell you that he spelled the tiles! I ended up with all the rubbish letters and low-point tiles!” Lucius maintained.



“Obviously… though, surely the ministry would have picked up on the complex, underage magic in the house, probably a dark spell at that, and arrested him?” she pointed out, stepping into the fireplace.



“Ah… erm…” Lucius said joining her.



“No reply, dear husband?” she teased, tweaking his bottom and causing him to jump.



“He’ll be a Slytherin. Mark my words.”



It's not like you to say sorry

I was waiting on a different story

This time I'm mistaken

For handing you a heart worth breakin'



I've been wrong, I've been down

To the bottom of every bottle

Despite words in my head

Scream "Are we having fun yet?"

Yet?, Yet?, Yet?, no no





Another memory was of Draco and Georgette’s wedding, of watching the bride and groom waltz around the room after being inspired by his parents to have their magic bound for all eternity.



They stood at the edge of the dance floor, watching the tender moment and talking softly.



“It was a wonderful ceremony – you do not realise how beautiful it truly is when you are the ones taking part.” Hermione said, wiping a happy tear from her eye.



“I realised little during our ceremony, other than a feeling of weightlessness, happiness and a tingly feeling – as if little bubbles were bursting all over my skin… I could think of nothing but you, love.” He replied, tenderly taking her lips in a gentle kiss.



“I thought of you constantly, forgetting time and place.” Hermione said, letting her hand hover close to Lucius’s and watching the little, painless, gold sparks jump between them as their magic recognised their close proximity.



“Never made is as a wise man

I couldn't cut it as a poor man stealing

And this is how you remind me

This is how you remind me



This is how you remind me

Of what I really am

This is how you remind me

Of what I really am



It's not like you to say sorry

I was waiting on a different story

This time I'm mistaken

For handing you a heart worth breakin'



I've been wrong, I've been down

To the bottom of every bottle

Despite words in my head

Scream "Are we having fun yet?"

Yet?, Yet?, Yet?, no no”





Lucius’s last lyrics were met with abandon by the crowd, as the four men left the stage after thanking their fans; backstage they were met with the twenty fans who had paid a ridiculous number of galleons for the privilege of VIP tickets. Lucius, however, only had eyes for one.



She stood there, her expression one of slight amusement; golden tresses were piled on top of her head in a messy, yet elegant, style; it looked effortless but had probably taken hours. She had stunning curves, showcased by a black silk corset trimmed in midnight blue French lace. Long, long legs were encased to the knee in tight, dark blue leather trousers; laced, high-heeled boots encased the feet and legs to the knee.



“Cissa?” Lucius said, moving toward her, blinking in shock.



“Hey! Ignore the old bird! She’ll probably tire out before you’re done… but I’m up for a repeat performance of last night.” Penelope Findwater said, running a red-talloned hand up her bare thigh to rest on the ridiculously short scarlet lycra skirt that did nothing to hide the fact she wore no underwear. Her other hand rested on a barely contained breast.



“The ‘old bird’ as you put it…” Lucius sneered, causing the groupie to back away, “Is my wife.” He said, placing his hand near hers to demonstrate the sparks of their combined magical power. “I have absolutey no recollection of last night, and after nine bottles of vodka, I seriously doubt I was anything to write home about – let alone six pages in a newspaper that resembled a script from a pornographic magazine. I couldn’t manage all of those sexual escapades in one night whilst sober, and I do believe you made most of it up.”



“I thought you were good…” she said, biting her lower lip in what she thought was an inviting way.



“How wonderful for you, but you do not matter to me.” Lucius said, becoming the aristocrat, despite the tattered jeans and open shirt.



“It didn’t seem to matter when you took off your wedding ring last night.” Penelope said cockily, licking her lower lip and focussing her gaze on his fly.



“No. But tonight is a new night, and it most certainly does matter. I am pressing legal charges to enable me to gain access to a pensieve of your memories of last night – for my wife to look over and then decide what she wishes to do… You are not wearing a VIP pass, and thus security will escort you from backstage to the stadium exit.” Lucius said, leaning in to kiss his wife with fierce passion whilst the screaming fan was escorted from the room.



“All this for me, my love?” he asked, fingering the fastenings of her corset with one hand, whilst running the other up the back of her thigh to clutch a firm buttock.



“I had to remind you…” she breathed to his lips before claiming another kiss.



“Remind me of what?” he said, moaning as her hand rubbed him through his worn blue jeans.



“Who you really are, of who you married, and of who will forgive you – just this once – a drunken mistake.” Hermione said, walking away to the hotel room with a temptingly swaying backside.



“You forgive me?” he asked, holding his breath as he waited for her answer.



“Whose bed do you return to tonight? Mine? Or that groupie doing a wonderful impression of a Knockturn Alley whore?” she said simply, looking at him with a smouldering glance over her shoulder.



“Yours.” He said breathlessly as she winked at him.



Snape handed him a bottle before he could follow. “Here, it’s a stamina potion – I think you’ll need it to manage all the activities and positions you ‘apparently’ performed last night.”



***



In court, the pensieve of Penelope Findwater revealed that a completely sloshed Lucius had called her ‘Cissa’ and ejaculated before he could enter her, before passing out cold. She had removed her underwear and dipped them in his spent seed before putting them in his pocket. After removing his wedding ring and placing it in his palm.



“Lets see how the washout rockstar’s wife likes to hear about this. I thought the band’s blonde sex god would at least last long enough to get me off. I’ve been to every one of your concerts, bought every record, purchased every poster… And you show your thanks by not being able to last and blacking out?!” She seethed, before locking the door with a complex, but sloppy appearing spell, before slowly attempting to unwind the secrecy charm over the band before leaving.



Penelope was denied her claim of carrying the rockstar’s lovechild, as it was determined to be the child of the Minister of Magic himself, explaining his sudden demise in the department of Mysteries; consequently her request of compensation from Lucius was rejected.



And Dark Magic?



They continued to have hit after hit, Sirius and Severus continuing to love-and-leave the groupies (after being sterilised at St. Mungo’s), whilst Lucius and Remus remained sober and faithful to their wives.