After Party

“Mr. Monterichelieu?” Narcissa called out gently from the interior of her silver and gray room.  She picked up a stack of clothing and met him in the hallway.

“Please, just call me Nathan?” he answered her with a warm smile, stopping just outside of Natalie’s room. 

“Nathan,” she said with a wan smile.  “My elf brought me some of my clothes for Natalie,” she offered, handing him a neatly folded pile of robes. 

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Malfoy,” Nathan answered gratefully.  “I’m sure Natalie will be very grateful.” 

“Please, Nathan,” she emphasized his name.  “Just call me Narcissa?”  

“Of course, Narcissa,” he agreed smiling at the blonde woman as she handed him the stack of clothing.   “We are very thankful for your kindness and assistance,” he complimented her.

“I am so grateful for the protection and healing your family offered my son.  I can never repay that kindness but rest assured that I will spend the rest of my life attempting to do just that.” Narcissa acknowledged him with a regal bow.

“Mrs. Malfoy, we accept your gratitude, and expect nothing in return,” Nathan bowed back to her.  “Please worry yourself no further.”

“Alas, dear boy, I will worry myself silly until my entire family is home, safe with me,” she explained with deep sadness.

“I can relate to that sentiment as well,” he replied.  “Please be aware that Mr. Cheatham is also working with your husband.  He does not like to lose,” Nathan stated in his most matter of fact voice.

“I have the utmost faith in your sister, your family and your counselor,” she agreed.

“Mrs. Malfoy, I take great joy in your faith,” Nathan added warmly. 

Narcissa smiled, giving him a prim nod before stating quietly, “I will be going downstairs to assist with the evening meal now,” she informed him as she glided past him for the stairs.

“We will be down shortly,” Nathan called after as he pushed open the door to Natalie’s room, all the way, to set the stack on her bed.

“Nat?” he called out, not seeing her. 

No answer.

“Natalie?” he called louder, opening the door to the bath.  “Natalie!” he shouted.

“What!” she sat upright, sputtering and sloshing water everywhere in the tiled bathroom.

“Good grief, woman!”  he admonished her, frightened.  “You nearly drowned yourself there!”

She rubbed her eyes tiredly, to wipe the water away, squinting and trying to regain her bearings.  Nathan picked up a large bath towel, warmed nicely, and held it out to her. 

“Out of the water, sis.  You’ve pruned every part of your body,” he commanded with a chuckle.

“Any news?” she asked as Nathan folded her into the towel.

“My source at the prison told me that the exchange went as smoothly as possible.  The Minister has not attempted to visit there,” he assured her.

“You know he’s marked, yes?” she pleaded with him to support her.

“Of course, Natalie.  I know how the bond mark works,” he reassured her gently.  “Now get out of that water before you catch your death!” he barked. 

“Yes, dear,” she answered as she slid over the edge of the tub. 

“Now, here, get dressed, lie down if you are tired, and rest,” Nathan hugged her close.  “We will prevail.”

“I know, Nathan, but …”

Nathan laid a finger against her lips to quiet her.

“No buts, sis,” he admonished her.  “We will prevail.  We will get out of this hellhole we’ve all been stuck in and go home, free men.  Patience,” he soothed confidently. 

“I know,” she said again sadly, but smiling with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.  “Nathan?”

“Yes, brat?”

“What if Severus wants to stay here?” she asked worriedly.

“Then we will work that out as well,” he assured her.  “Who in their right mind would want to stay here instead of the island?” he wondered.

“Right, right mind, Nathan,” she sniped. 

“Yeah, you have a point there.  We are talking about Severus,” he joked as she slipped into a soft gray dress. 

“I think I will lie down for a little while.  Sleeping in a bathtub isn’t all that refreshing,” she commented dryly. 

“Probably not unless you manage to slide under the water,” he teased.

“Are you wishing I had drowned myself?” she exclaimed jokingly.

“Naw, not now.  I just got ya back!” he bantered, kissing her on the top of her head.  “Go! Sleep!” he ordered, pushing her towards the bed.

A tiny elf appeared from thin air with a decided “Pop!”

“Elyse!” Natalie greeted the diminutive being.

“Mistress Natalie!  I so glad to be able to serve again!” The elf nearly danced in her joy.  “I turns down the bed?”

“Yes, please?” Natalie stooped to hug her.  “I am so glad to see you again, Elyse.  Was my father horrible to you?”

“Oh, no, Miss Natalie.  He was no more horrible than ever,” the elf answered with a wide grin.  “I is so happy to see you,” she repeated as she snapped her fingers to freshen the long unused bed. 

“I am glad you are here!  When we are done here, will you go to the island with me?” Natalie asked hopefully.

“I follow you anywhere,” the elf vowed firmly as she pointed to the bed.  “Mr. Nathan be saying you need sleep.  Now, you sleeps!” 

“Yes, dear!” Natalie smiled at the elf as she slid into the bed.

Nathan smiled, watching the family elf and Natalie banter, happy with some semblance of normalcy for his sister.  He slipped from the room, closing the door softly, content watching his sister's fall shut, hopeful that she would indeed sleep, free from worries, perhaps to even dream of reuniting with her mate. He tugged the door shut and made to descend the stairs and attend to further business.  Down in the drawing room, Thomas Cheatham was carrying on a heated discussion with both Kingsley Shacklebolt and Minerva McGonagall.  He paused at the top of the stairs for a brief, calming moment, drawing deep breaths through his nose, blowing them out through his mouth to ground himself, settle his nerves.  He opened his eyes and eased down the stairs, smoothly, controlled, ready to deal with anything the two Brits tried to dish out.