A Dragon's Love

CHAPTER THREE: DANGER IN THE SHADOWS

Narcissa Malfoy was unhappy. Very unhappy. At the age of 58, most women were already grandmothers. However, her son was steadily aging, (already 30!) and she herself was not getting any younger. She wanted an heir.

The years had not been kind on Narcissa. After her husband’s death, she had never been the same. No longer the proud, untouchable wife of the prominent Death Eater, Narcissa had faced hard facts. She realized that her husband’s ideals were all just basic stupidity and prejudice, without any truth to it at all. Muggle-borns were just as intelligent and talented as purebloods, if not more. It took a long time for her to face facts, but being a woman, and more open to new ideas than men tended to be, she had adjusted to life after the war a lot better than others had.

However, she was no longer the ravishing beauty she had been. Her hair had silvered, her face held wrinkles. Every blemish and imperfection were a reminder of the cruelties and suffering she had gone through in her nearly sixty years. Although Narcissa was surrounded by luxury, and everything money could provide, still she was not happy.

Of course monetary pleasures were required for her happiness. She was Narcissa Malfoy, for heaven’s sake, accustomed to wealth, never having done without. She found herself longing for children’s laughter now, however. She wanted the empty, huge mansion to be full of more than material beauty. Whether it was age and the sentiment that came with it, or just plain loneliness, Narcissa wanted a family. She realized the only way to obtain it was through her only son, Draco.

Draco, as always, refused to do her bidding. Stalwart as ever, he simply pranced around in Hogwarts, rotting away in the dungeons toying with roots and other disgusting little things just as Severus Snape had done. She wasn’t saying that Potions wasn’t a useful part of the magical world. Narcissa wasn’t dumb. She knew it was perhaps one of the most important professions someone could take. It was just that her son shouldn’t be slaving away, doing MANUAL labor. She’d never understood why people of Severus and her son, people of their caliber would choose to work at a difficult job such as Potions, which was for the most part unrewarding.

Being a selfish woman (Narcissa knew and wasn’t about to hide that fact), she also knew how to get what she wanted. With Lucius, it had been simpler. He’d wanted sex, and Narcissa had gotten her way easily. With her son… undoubtedly there had to be another way. A laugh trickled from her, a laugh full of plans and certainty of triumph. By the end of this year, Draco Malfoy would be married.


Helena awoke the next morning, shadows under her eyes and face pale. She had slept uneasily, memories haunting her dreams. Sighing, she went through her morning rituals, then dressed into a pair of comfortable jeans and a loose Muggle- band shirt. Pulling on worn white socks and equally worn black Pumas, Helena thought she’d go for an early morning jog before breakfast.

It was good to be back at Hogwarts, she decided, as cool air blew in from the forest. Never too hot, and never too cold, the weather was beautiful, but it was more than that. Hogwarts had been a home to her when she hadn’t had a home; the friends she made a family. She still kept in contact with a few old pals, although it had faded away slowly with time and distance. Nothing ever really lasted for Helena.

Pushing dismal thoughts away, Helena broke into a run. Animalistic pleasure enveloped her, as she became one with nature, feeling adrenaline flow through her as her sneakered feet pounded against the soft earth, the air whip around her refreshingly. Running away from her past and memories, from all the things that had ever hurt her, Helena felt free in that moment.

After a while, when the burning in her lungs was too much, Helena fell onto the dewy grass, gulping in the clean air. She stared out into the wild landscape of blue sky above her, the sun dazzling her eyes. This was life at its best, at least for her. Closing her eyes, Helena did not notice the figure cloaked in black, hiding just slightly out of view, looking at her with a malicious smile, murder evident in his eyes.


Draco Malfoy was on his Firebolt, flying around Hogwarts when he noticed a black robed figure. At first, he thought it was a teacher walking around, getting his or her early morning exercise. However, as he flew closer, Draco noticed the covert way the person moved, darting to and fro behind trees, obviously not wanting to get caught. His heart lurched, his head pounded, and realized this was an intruder.

*How had he gotten in?* It was evident that the man had a target. Draco flew further, and saw that the figure was following a woman who was jogging. Like a lightning bolt it struck him that the woman was Helena. For some unknown reason, fury built up inside Draco, escalating to terrifying heights. Why was this man tailing Helena? What did he mean to do?

He debated whether to fly back to Hogwarts and alert all the professors of the danger or to handle this alone. Quickly, he decided on the latter. It would take too long to go back, explain the situation, then go back. By that time, she could be dead. With that fearful thought nipping at his heels, Draco sped.

Helena collapsed onto the ground, her eyes closing. Inside, he cursed her. No wand, no protection- what on earth was this woman thinking? Did she have brains at all? Apparently not. Suddenly, the intruder took out his wand, aimed it at her.

“Fuck!” he whispered, whipping out his wand. The same time he yelled “EXPELLIARMUS!” the man cried “STUPEFY!” At the loud disturbance, Helena opened her eyes in shock. Getting up, she quickly dodged the red light and watched as Draco Malfoy cast “PETRIFICUS TOTALUS” on a black-robed man, flinging away a broomstick.

Hesitantly, she ran to Draco, trembling. “What the hell is going on?” Helena demanded, suddenly cold. Had that man been following her all along? Her eyes ran over to where the man was frozen on the ground, his eyes glaring malevolently at her through the mask he wore.

“Are you all right?” he asked, eyes grazing her face. She nodded woodenly, unable to speak. “You stupid idiot! You could have killed, or hurt at the very least! What gave you the idea you would be immune to Death Eater attacks?”

The words broke through the numbness encasing her. Angrily, Helena yelled back, “I didn’t say I was immune to them! I just didn’t think…”

“That’s right! It’s obvious you didn’t think!” Draco ran long fingers through his smooth hair, agitated. “You are going straight to the infirmary.”

“I’m fine!”

“You are in need of mental help at the very least. It’s still dangerous out there!”

“What do you care, Draco Malfoy? Don’t you hate all Muggleborns?” she sneered.

Suddenly cold, he said in a perilous tone, “Don’t you dare make assumptions about me, Professor Simmons.”

“Well, don’t make assumptions about ME! You don’t know me, and you never will!” She turned, and stalked back to the castle, pissed off to the tips of her toes. Only later did it strike Helena that Draco Malfoy had possibly saved her life.


“A death eater attack? Why?” Minerva fell weakly against her chair, looking up in confusion at the grim figure of Draco Malfoy.

“They were after Helena Simmons, it appears,” he answered, crumpling a piece of paper in his hand.

Gathering her strength, the Headmistress drew in a breath. “Does this mean we’ll have to tighten security again?”

“It would be advised.” Damn it, he hated this whole situation!

McGonnagall sighed. “I had thought all of this was starting to die down… when will it end?”

“I don’t know.”