The Tempest

The Tempest


By: Max

[Disclaimer: see chapter 1]

Chapter 4: Narcissa’s Journal, part 4: Coming closer


Did you see in my eyes how weak I became, Albus? I remember a party at the ministry in the spring of Draco’s 11th year. I hadn’t seen you in a while – and I had missed you. My dreams of you needed sometimes a bit food – your smile, the one or two lines I’ve got to hear from you when we met at one of these dreadful committee gatherings and once a little touch on my arm. And then, on this evening, in the ministry, I suddenly felt your presence. Looking around I saw you, standing on the other side of the hall, a tall and imposing figure in blue and silver. Some one talked to you – I couldn’t see who it was because the two of you were surrounded by a crowd and only you towered over it. You had bent your head slightly as you mostly do when talking with smaller people – and you rarely meet some one who is as tall as you, so it’s actually another trademark gesture of your.

Did you notice how I watched you? You raised your head and looked at me and for a little moment our eyes connected and I felt the familiar flutter in my stomach. You smiled and I dared to smile back shyly. It was not much – but I felt warm and comforted.

A few weeks later I was so furious with you I thought about storming Hogwarts to hex you. It was June and with every day of the month Lucius became more nervous and aggressive. On June 8 it went so far that he hexed Draco for letting a saucer drop at breakfast, on June 9 I began to feel his violence for the first time as I tried to protect Dobby, his onalonal elf, after he’d kicked the poor creature so hard it could hardly breathe for days.

The next day it became even worse. Lucius came back from London in a rage, kicking Dobby again and shouting to me that he’d divorce me in an instant if the “bloody letter” didn&7;t 7;t arrive the next days. He’d learned at the ministry that the Hogwarts letters were on their way – and though Draco had already shown signs of magic, Lucius wasn’t sure about him and therefore wanted the letter as the final prove of Draco being “worthy” to be his son – as he told not only me, but Draco. In his rage he even got so far he told Draco he’d kill him if he were a squib.

Draco’s horror made me strong again. Although I had needed almost one hour to cover the black eye Lucius had provided me the day before with I suddenly wasn’t afraid of Lucius anymore. I pushed our son behind my back, pulled my wand out, directed it at my husband and threatened him: “One move at Draco and I will kill you, Lucius Malfoy.”

I meant it and Lucius felt it and backed away, becoming pale and saying: “Don’t make a scene, Narcissa. You know, I’m only a bit nervous …”

“Then floo Dumbledore and ask him where the bloody letter is!” I shouted.

“I can’t do that! You know, Dumbledore hates my guts. He would probably enjoy nothing better than to make me stew!” Lucius gave back.

I could hardly tell him that I knew already about Draco being in the register – he would of course have asked how I learned. So I offered to floo you – hoping he’d leave me alone for doing so. Then I’d have lied to him later that I talked with you.

He didn’t leave me. He sat down at my back as I threw a handful of floo powder in the fireplace and called: “Hogwarts, the headmaster.”

It needed a moment. Then your head appeared in the flames. “Madame Malfoy – what can I do for you?”

Looking in your eyes I breathed deeply and said: “I wonder about our son, Headmaster …” I hoped very much you’d understand why I pronounced “our” – and you did.

Your answer sounded almost bored: “We’re to get a big lot of new pupils this year; therefore we’re a bit short with owls. As far as my deputy informed me, she’d sent the letters for students from A to K yesterday. As soon as the owls are back, we’ll send the next letters. So I think M as in Malfoy will be out this afternoon …” and then, with a smile: “But if you want to go shopping with your son today I send a house elf over with the list of the books and things he’ll need.”

“That won’t be necessary, Headmaster,” I said pretty cold. I was furious with you because you hadn’t sent our letter first – I thought you of all people would know how important it was and I really didn’t like the idea that you would endanger Draco only for making Lucius sweat.


Yes, I know, Albus. I should have thought again and I did – later, in the night after Draco had sneaked into my bedroom for the first time in years. The boy was shaken and he had lost not only the little thrust he had kept in Lucius, but his love for his father also. He’d seen Lucius as the cold egotist he is and for the first time he showed that he’s to become a stronger man than Lucius. With a calm which amazed me, my son said this night: “He won’t defeat us, mother. I’ll show him who I am – and then I’ll teach him never to beat you again.”

My son was back – and this was what you’d planned, wasn’t it, Albus? You knew Lucius would show Draco his true face if he would think of him as a squib.

In this night I only wondered if the risk of your game wasn’t too high. What if Lucius in his rage had killed our son? But the next evening Lucius – after he’d celebrated the letter which had arrived in the morning – was drunk enough to tell me that you’d thought of that too. Lucius had got a warning by your old friend Earnest Shacklebolt, that the Wizengamot would watch the squibs very closely and that a sudden death of one in a pureblood family would lead to “severe consequences”.


I’d always thought that with Draco attending Hogwarts my life would become very lonely, but I was wrong again. Lucius suddenly developed a high interest in social gatherings again. It was almost as in our first years in Paris, but after a few months I recognized a pattern in the list of people we met. And I didn’t like it. Almost all of them were connected to the dark lord. Even today I don’t know what game Lucius was playing at this time. Did he know that the dark lord was rising again? Or did he try to become the next dark lord himself?

My fear grew with every day. Although everybody seemed to believe I’d be a follower of Voldemort I had always hated him not only for the killing of so many innocent people – I must admit that the thought of his victims was always a bit “academic” because one can hardly mourn for people one didn’t know – but for what he’d done to my siblings. I had never been very close to them and I even had feared Bellatrix – now Madame Lestrange – after she’d left school and I hadn’t trusted Tiberius who was so egotistical and cold hearted as our father, but to think of Bellatrix rotting in Azkaban and to Tiberius who’d disappeared after the dark lord’s fall made me loathe Voldemort.

And then there was my cousin Sirius. I had never trusted him. He was in his way so reckless and too full of himself than the rest of the Black family. But – as odd as it may sound: I was probably the only person in the magical world who never believed him guilty of betraying the Potters. I knew my cousin and although I didn’t think much of his capability to love – I knew how much he could hate. And the person he hated most was his father. At the moment when he became a death eater it was clear to me that Sirius would never have become one too.

But who would have believed me if I had said so? Even if I had found the courage to stand up to my cousin against my husband – I was Madame Malfoy! I was believed a death eater too. So it wouldn’t have helped Sirius if I would have tried to help him, probably it would have made matters even worse for him.

At the end of Draco’s second year at Hogwarts it was clear: Voldemort was back. The ministry denied it, most people tried to deny it too, but even if I would have wanted to close my eyes: Peter Pettigrew, Voldemort’s left hand – for a right one he really was too thick and too clumsy – became a daily presence in the mansion. arnearned soon that it was my husband who provided Voldemort with money – and after a few months he was back in his lord’s highest esteem again, becoming his right hand.

It was around this time that Severus became often a guest in our house too. He never came when Lucius invited officially what he still often did, but often in the nights I heard Severus’ silken voice in Lucius’ study.

First I was shocked. Although we never had been close- I’d always thought of Severus as an honourable man. I knew that he had joined the dark lord by his first raise, but after he became Hogwarts potion master and you defended him in front of the Wizengamot, I really believed he would have been done with Voldemort.

The idea of him coming back to the dark side frightened me. Severus is a much more powerful wizard than Lucius, he’s probably almost as brilliant as you and with him on Voldemort’s side it would become very hard to defeat the evil again.

Yet the more I thought about it, the less I could believe Severus was really and truly on Voldemort’s side. He is not some one who would accept to be ruled – just in contrast to Lucius who was all his life ruled by his father and therefore is use to it. Besides I simply didn’t believe that some one – even as clever as Severus – could fool you for years. He was at Hogwarts, he was under your eyes every day, he was known as a former death eater – one has to be as blinded by hubris as Voldemort and my husband to believe that you would keep a faithful death eater at Hogwarts.

I mean I know, that you were fooled by Quirrel and Barty Crouch – but none of them managed it so long as Severus would have if he really had been a death eater.

My belief in Severus made me sneak down one day as I heard he was just leaving. Pretending I would be on my way to the library to get myself lecture for going to bed, I met him in the hall. As the mother of one of his students I could easily ask him how my son was and so we stood there, chatting for a while. Finally I led him to the door and there he suddenly said, very casual and almost bored: “Oh, before I forget about it: I met your former neighbour and he asked me to give you his regards.”

I knew it! Severus was on your side!

“How nice,” I answered, trying to sound as bored as Severus. “How is he doing?”

“You know, he’s a bit eccentric. Sometimes I think he even becomes a bit senile,” Severus answered with a sneer. “He plays around with almost everything, but he often forgets about the real important things – like changing passwords and wards …”

My heart hammered so loud I was afraid Lucius in his study would hear it. Nevertheless I tried to smile and to sound casual: “Why should he? He’s rarely at home, isn’t he?”

Severus looked at me out of his glittering black eyes. “He’s often enough there to get his mail,” he told me and then he bowed. “It’s late – I really should be going. Bye, Narcissa.”

I had already started to think about resistance against Voldemort – only I hadn’t the slightest idea how I could do something against him. I knew you were working against him, I’d even heard Lucius and Pettigrew talk about the “order” and how much trouble it had produced years before. But Lucius and Pettigrew were convinced “the order” didn’t exist anymore and even if he had known “the order” was still alive: I could hardly have waltzed into your office, announcing: “I hate Voldemort, may I become a member our our resistance group against him.” I knew: the moment I would be seen at Hogwarts my husband would learn about it. He had his spies in Hogsmeade and he even had three little snakes around Draco: Goyles, Crabbe and Pansy Parkinson, all children of death eaters and close friends of Lucius.

Sometimes I had already thought about sending you an owl. But even this would have been too much of a risk. Our own eagle owls – “only the best for Malfoys” – were rare birds, so one of them sailing through the great hall or to Hogwarts main tower would have been noticed. And going to the post office in Diagon Alley wasn’t an option either. Hhoulhould I have explained that if some one had seen me there?

Rome was an option – and even one which was easy for me. Telling Lucius that I would need a few robes and complaining about the Parisian fashion being so boring was not a problem. It worked as expected. Lucius himself said: “Why don’t you try Rome again?”

Three days later - on a sunny morning - I apparated to Rome. I went to the robe shop, ordered a pile of new robes, and then I went to a little shop where I bought a quill, ink and parchment – I was already so paranoid I hadn’t dared to write a letter to you at home. Afterwards I apparated on the roof of your flat broke through the wards and went to your desk.

And there laid a letter – addressed to “N.”

To see your handwriting was enough to make my stomach flutter and my fingers tremble. Opening the letter was as good as doing the final decision to betray Lucius.

It was only three lines, obviously hastily written: “Your son is safe with me. I’ll protect him with my life. If you need my protection too just stay. I’ll come as soon as possible.”

I looked around. I was sure you had set something in the room to monitor your desk to give you a signal when I would approach. But of course it was something I couldn’t recognize. But as I started to write my letter to you, I almost hoped I’d hear the “pop” of an apparition – your apparition.

You didn’t come. How could you? It was in the middle of a morning and you are a busy man. You couldn’t leave Hogwarts or where ever you just were in an instant only because I wished for it.

Nevertheless I was a bit disappointed and this made probably for the tone of my letter. It read: “Headmaster, I don’t need your protection, but you may need information. If so drop me another note. I’ll come back on Thursday around this time.” Reading it as the ink was dry, I myself found it a bit harsh and so I added a “yet” behind “protection” and a “yours sincerely – N.” which sounded so silly I wished for one of the ink deleting potions of my school days for deleting it.

On Thursday you were there. I felt your presence as I apparated on your terrace and my knees became weak. It was the first time in years I was going to be alone with you and I had thrown all my morale scruples. I had quitted my loyalty to my husband and I was ready not only to betray him, but to cheat on him too. I knew he would kill me when learning about my betrayal and I was sure he’d find out sooner or later. So I felt as if my life wouldn’t last very long anymore. I didn’t want to dwell on dreams for the rest of it. I wanted the real thing at last. I wanted you.

Only you didn’t seem to want me. You were all business that day – very calm, very serious. Not once did your eyes twinkle and you didn’t seem to notice that I wore the robe you had once picked for me. And yes, you’d needed information out of Voldemort’s inner circle urgently and yes, you were the leader of a resistance group, called “The Order of the Phoenix” during Voldemort’s first raise and if I would be aware how extremely dangerous spying on Lucius would be?

“I am,” I said. “But if I let him go on, he will either kill or make Draco a death eater too.”

“Draco is at Hogwarts and for the next years he’s secure there. You don’t have to endanger yourself for him,” you said.

“But I can’t stand by any longer!” I almost cried. “They are murderers and if I don’t do anything against them I will become as guilty as they are.”

For one moment I saw something like tenderness in your eyes, but your voice was still calm and even a bit little cold as you said: “Well, Narcissa – if you really are determined, I’m grateful for any little information.”

“You shall get it. I onlyR’t know how to keep contact. I can’t come here too often – Lucius would become suspicious if I were once a week in Rome.”

Now you smiled. “You don’t have to go to Rome. You only have to change your hair dresser. Do you know Madame Smith’s salon in Hogsmeade?”

“Yes. I was sometimes there.” I answered. “But she’s a bit unfriendly …”

Now you laughed. “This will change, Narcissa. From now on you’ll get the special treatment for special customers there. If you want to contact me, floo her and as for the special treatment, will you?”

Only six days later I came to the salon in Hogsmeade. Two days before I had overheard a conversation between Pettigrew and Lucius. They were planning an attack on an Auror’s home to take revenge for this auror catching a few death eaters.

I felt a bit funny awalkwalked into the salon. I mean who wouldn’t? I’ve always thought of spying as a serious, secret business, down in dark corners and odd places and I had been prepared to meet you in the dark forest or under a disguise in a brothel in Knockturn Alley, but here I was, in the le ole of a day, laden with my shopping bags, waltzing in a hair dresser’s salon and hoping, that I wouldn’t get only a recipient for my information, but a good hair treatment too. I mean, I was still to act as Madame Malfoy, the clothe horse – and this meant I couldn’t afford to neglect my hair.

Madame Smith beamed at me as if I’d suddenly become her favourite customer. Shaking my hand she cried: “You’ll like our special treatment so much, Madame Malfoy” and then she led me – eagerly and loudly talking about how the visit in her shop should not only “refresh” my hair, but getting me a little peace and relaxation also – up the stairs in the back of her salon to a cosy room with a big mirror and a hair dresser chair. I sat down, Madame Smith giggled: “Your hair dresser will be with you in a minute, m’ dear” and disappeared.

One minute later a beautiful, red and golden bird, the size of a swan, landed on the window sill. It looked at the sky outside and made a sound which almost sounded like Madame Smith’s giggle. I didn’t know the bird, but I’d heard about it – it was your phoenix. Only a few seconds after him a second bird shot down from the sky, landed on the window sill and ruffled its feathers. It was a falcon – but the biggest I’ve ever seen and with the most beautiful black and white plumage. It hopped down from the window sill on the floor and then it changed and became a wizard in a dark red robe with a long silver mane. You looked at the phoenix and said: “Cheater!” Turning to me you explained: “Fawkes always uses magic to win our little races. It’s not fair.”

Fawkes made again his giggling sound, flied in the room and placed himself on top of the mirror, looking curiously at me out of his almost human, dark eyes.

“Your phoenix is lovely,” I said.

“Don’t praise him. He’s already vain enough.” You came over to me and conjured yourself a little chair. Rummaging in the inner pockets of your robe, you took out two vials, a hair brush, a comb and your wand. “Madame wants to get the very special treatment?” you asked with a chuckle.

“You?” I couldn’t believe it.

“If you don’t mind? I’m pretty good with hair – and with a little help from my potion master …” The look on my face you saw in the mirror made you laugh out loud. “Severus is pretty good witir tir too – only he can’t do much for his own because bending down all day over potions spoils everything. But I think you’ll like the formula he developed for you …”

“He developed a formula for me?” I probably looked like a carp out of its pond.

“He said your hair is much finer then mine. Therefore it needs other treatment. And then he shredded one of my robes because he needed silk …” You sounded very amused.

I couldn’t stop giggling. The idea of severe Severus working on a hair potion! I really would never have thought spying could lead to that.

And I never would have thought that some one only touching my hair would have such an effect on me. The moment I felt your hand on my head I started to melt. Every resistance I had ever built against a man’s touch was gone in an instant and I almost laughed by thinking that I had believed myself being the first frigid part Veela ever. Under your fingers my body felt strange to me because I had never experienced my nipples prickling like that and my centre becoming so hot and longing for something to fill the emptiness in it.

I had known before that I wanted you. But I hadn’t knew how much and with what passion. In you as the lover of my dreams I had always craved for your gentleness. With the real, living, breathing Albus I wanted more.

But you didn’t touch more than my hair. Not on this first day, not on the second and not in the weeks which followed. You were in a way distant which almost drove me crazy. The more I wanted you – and though my pride suffered by longing for a man who didn’t show the slightest hint of desiring me too – I couldn’t help wanting you.


It hurt, Albus. And then to learn that you were involved with another woman! It was Gertrude Fudge, the old gossip who provided me with this news as we met at Madame Maulkin’s shop in Diagon Alley and I was only glad I was in the changing cubicle as she cried excited: “… and you can’t imagine the newest news, dearie: Dumbledore’s at last going to marry. I’d have never thought he would be to catch, but Cass Cracklebell – you remember Cassandra, do you? She was once Arithmancy teacher in Hogwarts until she went to Hogwarts – managed it. I mean, she isn’t much to look at, plain and mousy as she is, but Dumbledore isn’t as handsome as he was in his youth either and they actually were quite cute – holding hands and whispering with each other – although Cornelius says he’d find them a bit foolish …”

It hurt like hell, Albus. I remembered Cassandra Cracklebell only too well and opposite to Gertrude who always was a silly cow, I didn’t find Professor Cracklebell “plain and mousy”, but pretty elegant and – heavens, I had been taught by her and know, that she was brilliant. Compared to her I felt like a silly 15 year old with a crush on my teacher.

I wanted to prove myself in your eyes. And this made me more and more reckless. As I had started with spying on Lucius, I simply had watched who came and sometimes when I got a chance, I had listened at doors. But now Voldemort had a body again and he became a regular visitor in the mansion. Sometimes he stayed even for a few days, but never officially, but always hidden in the dungeons. There the doors were too thick, I couldn’t eavesdrop at them and besides: How should I have explained being down in the dungeons?

There was only one chance: I needed an invisibility cloak. I needed a while but in the end I found one as I searched – of course under a disguise – in Knockturn Alley. From then on I developed a severe case of migraine. Whenever I thought Voldemort was there or to come, I complained about a headache and retired to my dark bedroom. With Piffy, my house elf, covering me – she ran once or twice a hour down to the kitchen, pretending she was getting me tea or water or a cold cover for the poor head – I sneaked then under the invisibility cloak down to the dungeons and hide myself.

The information I collected were worth the risk. I learned about almost every attack and plan soon enough you could do something to defend victims or at least to avoid big damage. But we both knew that we were dancing on very thin ice. With every failed attack Lucius and Voldemort became more suspicious. They knew they were spied on and it was only a matter of time until they would get me.

You warned me every time we met – and every time you said: “It’s becoming too dangerous. Don’t go back. Come with me to Hogwarts. I can protect you there until the war is over.”

I refused every time. Spying had become a drug to me. I never felt more alive than when I was under my invisibility cloak and heard Lucius and Voldemort talk.


To be continued ….