Congratulations, Narcissa!

Congratulations, Narcissa

My son reminds me that I first saw her at the Quidditch World Cup the summer before his fourth year, sitting in the top box with the Boy-Who-Lived and those Pureblood paupers. But I frankly don’t remember. I vaguely remember a bushy-haired girl but as I didn’t…and still don’t…make it a habit of making idle chit-chat with those socially inferior than I am, I didn’t give her a second thought.

Over the following years, I only heard mention of her name when Lucius was berating Draco about his academic progress at Hogwarts. It flew against all of Lucius’s dearly held beliefs of the superiority of his bloodline that a Mudblood beat Draco at every subject. I didn’t pay too much attention during these father-son discussions, as long as it didn’t result in Draco being shipped off to Durmstrang, as Lucius often threatened.

I didn’t pay attention until it was too late. One day, not long after the War ended with the Dark Lord’s defeat, Draco announced that he was marrying her. I was devastated.

How could he! Marrying a Mudblood! As if this family wasn’t hanging on to its last vestiges of dignity! To marry a Mudblood was completing the social suicide his father started! Had my son no consideration at all for me? For all that I have been through to uphold the Black and Malfoy heritages? For all the sacrifices I made to keep the blood pure?

Merlin! I even married Lucius knowing I would always be secondary to the Dark Lord, knowing he would never completely be mine. I married Lucius for his wealth and his bloodline and to regain the family honor after Andromeda’s unfortunate elopement with that Mudblood Tonks. Mother and Father were proud of me. The lavish wedding to Lucius Malfoy caused many in society to overlook my sis—Andromeda’s poor choice of a husband. Witch Weekly featured Lucius and I’s wedding portrait on the front page and several articles were devoted to exalting the fortuitous marrage of both Black sisters. Imagine, a Lestrange and a Malfoy! I was responsible for placing my family back in society’s good graces. And all it cost me was a loveless marriage. Which really I didn’t come to mind so much because it came with many privileges. I had unlimited access to vaults of Malfoy fortune. My robes were custom-made in Milan and the Malfoy name ensured that designs were not duplicated for any other witch. I dove into my role hosting social balls and charity events, for which invitations were highly sought after. I attended Ministry dinners and galas honoring foreign dignitaries, but the only politics I engaged in was which other witch’s fete to grace with my presence, and which other ones to snub. I was every inch the trophy wife but I was also the envy of every witch of my generation.

I sigh remembering how it all ended abruptly when Lucius and several of his business associates landed in Azkaban at the end of Draco’s fifth year. Just as abruptly, owls “lost” invitations to important social events. Patricia Parkinson cancelled our annual shopping trip to Paris. “Malfoy” became synonymous with “Death Eater.” I suddenly became a social pariah. I was almost too glad when the War broke out, because at least it diverted attention from the fact that I had suddenly become a persona non grata in society.

Hope was restored when it was revealed that Draco fought for the winning side, forsaking his upbringing and his father’s schemes. Draco was a war hero. He was poised to bring back the Malfoys from the social abyss into which it had fallen. But my hopes of bringing back the prestige of the Malfoys were dashed when he married a Mudblood.

Congratulations, Narcissa!, came owl-post from Patricia Parkinson, the first since after Lucius went to Azkaban, Let’s do have lunch this week!, it simpered. I toss it to the fire. The nerve of that woman! As if I didn’t know she only wanted to meet so she can gloat at how low the social fortunes of the Malfoys had sunk that my son would give up her precious pug-faced pureblood daughter for a Mudblood.

The prospect of a Mudblood daughter-in-law was quite devastating. I saw it as a personal slight to all the sacrifices I made to keep the Malfoy name as pure as gold in wizarding society. Never mind that Draco insisted he loved her. Never mind that she was a witch to contend with on her own right. Never mind that she was also one of the heroines of the war. Never mind that the Boy Who Lived counted on her wisdom and advice more than he did anyone else. She was still a Mudblood.

But when Draco sets his mind on something, he does not give up. As the new head of family, it was his prerogative to make decisions without consulting me. So I kept my opinions about my daughter-in-law to myself and did not make any disparaging remarks about their marriage, despite my misgivings.

That was five years ago.

I watch the two of them now, my son and his Mud---Muggle-born wife, dancing, oblivious to the other witches and wizards around them who have come to celebrate their fifth anniversary. The crème de la crème of society is here, intermingling with wizards who, before the war, would not even have been considered for an invitation to a Malfoy gala. Muggle-borns are one thing, but a half-giant and a werewolf, too? But no one seems to mind. Everyone is having a great time. Warmth and laughter fill the ballroom, something I can’t remember ever happening since I moved here as a young bride. No expense was spared for the food and entertainment. It was an eclectic mix of guests, from former Hogwarts schoolmates, Ministry officials, business associates, foreign guests, Aurors, and ex-Death Eaters, and of course reporters from the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly.

But this motley assortment of guests at a Malfoy party is not the most surprising thing the past five years have brought. It is the evolving relationship I have with my daughter-in-law, Hermione Granger (*shrug* She keeps her maiden name professionally).

Rather than be vilified, as I had expected, Draco and Hermione’s wedding was the toast of Wizarding society. In the post-War period, wizards seemed anxious for something to believe in, and Draco and Hermione’s marriage seemed to be exactly what many needed: a Muggle-born marrying into one of the oldest Pureblood families, a love match between two former enemies who fought side by side during the War, a union of two of the most powerful wizards of their generation. It was a validation that the right side had won the War and that our world could begin to rebuild itself after Voldermort’s reign of terror. Draco and Hermione’s wedding pictures ended up in most wizarding magazine covers and Witch Weekly even created a special edition issue just for it.

The wedding and the marriage brought unexpected prestige to the Malfoy name. Once associated with the Dark Arts, “Malfoy” now stood for hope. The exclusive interview I granted to Witch Weekly about my new daughter-in-law was the first positive publicity I received since Lucius’s stint at Azkaban.

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Congratulations, Narcissa! You must be so proud! Indeed.

That I expected Hermione to settle into the traditional role of a proper Malfoy wife still surprises me today. I do not know why I thought she would resign from her post at the Ministry and start planning tea parties at the Manor. But she didn’t. She continued her job as Head Trainer for the Auror Academy. She worked as if she needed the salary, completely ignoring the fact that when she became Mrs. Malfoy, three vaults of Malfoy galleons automatically became hers. Really, no Malfoy wife ever worked because she needed to for the money. If one wanted to work, one didn’t marry a Malfoy.

So that left me to continue to host the tea parties and other social events required to maintain the Malfoys on society’s good graces. I didn’t mind, as it was a role I was born to do and I wasn’t voted Witch Weekly’s Hostess of the Year four times in a row for nothing. Besides, this was one of the roles I missed during that bleak period just before the War. I was more than happy to take up these social duties for Hermione. I think she was also relieved to find that I was more than willing continue with my former role. Between her research projects and furthering her various causes, playing the socialite just was not at the top of Hermione’s list. She wanted something more “substantial” with her time; I wanted to be front and center socially once again. It was an unspoken arrangement between the two of us, and probably the first time we “agreed” to work together.

Congratulations, Narcissa, on being a five time Witch Weekly Hostess of the Year! That was two years after Draco and Hermione’s wedding.

Hermione did resign from her post at the Ministry when she found out she was pregnant. Draco was ecstatic, of course, and would have insisted that she take a full year leave of absence to relax at home. But she would have none of that, and to expect Hermione to sit and be “unproductive” at home for nine months would be tantamount to me taking up house-elf rights.

Hermione may have resigned as an Auror Trainer, but she did not stop working. During her maternity leave, Hermione took over the administration of the charitable institutions managed by the Malfoy Corporations. After the War, Draco placed most of his energies at rebuilding the for-profit end of the Malfoy business interests. The charitable institutions, which once enjoyed considerable support from the Malfoy Corporations for its role as a smokescreen to the shadier parts of the business, were unfortunately neglected post-War. It was just the project Hermione needed. She recognized that successful charities went beyond the glitzy fundraising event, so she developed solid business plans that rivaled those that Draco developed for the for-profit end. And while she gradually lost her magic due to a temporary pregnancy-related condition called gestational squibbing, she exerted a different kind of magic in restoring credibility amongst the donors for the charitable causes.

Fundraising for the various charitable programs was top priority. As the management of these charities took up most of Hermione’s time, it was left up to me to host the various fundraisers and attend the required ribbon-cutting events. It gave me an excuse to show off my custom-made dress robes and thumb my nose at those who had snubbed me after Lucius went to Azkaban. When they could spare the time, Hermione and Draco attended such events with me. I feel a surge of pride when my daughter-in-law can spout out statistics on the achievements of these charitable causes, or discuss in detail with some foreign Finance Minister or other the budgetary nuances of these institutions. Seeing this and realizing how deeply involved she is in furthering these causes, I wonder how, at one time, it had been enough for me to feel that my contributions to society began and ended with a ribbon-cutting ceremony or the staged handshake in front of cameras.

The positive turnaround made by the non-profit section of the Malfoy business interests made an impact on the for-profit end. Malfoy Corporation was featured in the Journal of WICCA (Wizarding Industries’ Charitable Contributions Agency), as being one of the more socially responsible corporations in the Wizarding world, for the huge monetary contributions it made to various charitable programs. This publicity added prestige to an enterprise long been under a cloud of suspicion with regards to the legality of some of its subsidiaries.

Of course things did not turn around after only nine months. So after Julius was born, Hermione spent most of her remaining time continuing to manage the charitable institutions. She acted as consultant to the Auror Academy, since an immediate return to as Trainer was made difficult by the slow dissipation of her gestational squibbing condition. Because she managed the non-profit end of the Malfoy interests from home, she was able to spend time with the new baby. And that meant more fundraising and ribbon-cutting events for me to attend.

Congratulations, Narcissa! How did you get old Macnair to donate a thousand galleons to the Magical Animals’ Defense Service?

The birth of my grandson only served to elevate the Malfoy name in public. I was in attendance during the birth as Malfoy family tradition dictated, but so was Draco, which surprised many. It was unorthodox for a wizard father to be present in the birthing room. And as if his presence did not set off enough tongues wagging, what happened during the birth created a firestorm of gossip in society. Word of what transpired when Julius Draco Malfoy was being delivered must have been leaked by the two mid-witches assisting during the birth. It didn’t escape their notice that a spell was cast as the newest Malfoy was making his entrance in the world. It was a spell unheard of in mid-witchery practice. It wasn’t a spell to be found in any medi-wizard references. It was a spell that hadn’t ever been used until that day, because it was a spell that Draco created as a gift to his wife.

Draco was subsequently named by Witch Weekly as Man of the Year for the Dolor Transfero spell. The publicity put an end once and for all to those nasty rumors that Draco and Hermione’s marriage was a sham. At a request by Draco for privacy, I did not grant any interviews to the magazine to confirm, but I also did not deny to reporters what I had witnessed in that birthing room. As if his status as War hero wasn’t enough, this spell practically elevated Draco to a god-like status amongst many pregnant women. And in a way, it also elevated my status as a mother. After all, where else would a man so considerate of his wife to take on her labor pains have learned that sensitivity but from his own mother?

Congratulations, Narcissa! You’ve had a powerful influence on your only son!!

My grandchildren are destined for greatness, and not just because of the impeccable bloodline they inherit from the Malfoys and Blacks. Muggle-born parents have borne history’s most powerful wizards. Harry Potter, for example, who vanquished the Dark Lord, twice. Then there is my niece, Nymphadora, the family’s first metamorphmagus in two hundred years and a successful Auror in her own right. I can’t wait to see what special powers my grandchildren will develop. They will be the pride of the Malfoys.

In the five years that the last Muggle-born since Ted Tonks joined the family, the Malfoy name and pride has increasingly been restored. And she, Hermione Granger Malfoy, born of Muggles, played a major role in that more than she is aware of or that I care to admit. Had she not married my son she would still have excelled at whatever she undertook. But the Malfoys would have continued on the downward spiral since Lucius’ trip to Azkaban. Perhaps Draco’s role in helping the Light side win would have slowed the plummet but restoring the prestige of the Malfoys would have taken considerably longer without an able partner. I shudder as I briefly envision that simpering Parkinson girl as my daughter-in-law, or any of the other tepid Pureblood witches for that matter.

And as I watch my son and daughter-in-law accept greetings from well-wishers, it dawns on me that for a while now I have accepted that Draco made the right decision in his choice of wife. He had chosen the best of them all---a powerful, intelligent, independent witch. Draco did not let his logical mind, nor his heritage or bloodline, nor social responsibility dictate whom he would marry. Only his heart made that choice. I raised him properly after all. Draco learned that discriminating taste from me. And I congratulate myself for this, as I turn to accept a dance from Severus.

Congratulations, Narcissa!