Michaela's Cousin

Chapter Four: Misery and Hope

Sunlight crept through the white lace curtains and into the spacious yellow and white room. Its long fingers stretched out over the handmade rugs, the antique mahogany dressing table, and the hardwood floors glowing with polish. The sunshine pushed itself into the room, bringing in warmth and happiness. The room grew brighter, banishing the shadows back to their netherworld. But there was one bit of darkness that no amount of sunshine could brighten. Darkness so thick, so pervasive that not even the strongest light could penetrate the tar-like thickness of it.

Narcissa's mind had fallen into a pitch-black crater where no happiness could permeate.

The silk sheets were cool against her skin as she lay in the bed she had once shared with Lucius, but she didn't feel them. The bed was soft, the comforter made of the richest fabrics, but she didn't see them. Her mind, every bit of herself, was lost in a hopeless black fog from which there was no escape and no way out.

Depression had bitten sharp teeth into Narcissa's psyche like a leech into an arm.

She had barely moved from the bed since the house-elves had placed her there three weeks ago. Her will to eat, to dress, to live was slowly ebbing away. The house-elves had had to spend long hours coaxing her to eat. But despite their patient cajoling, she had been barely eating enough to stay alive.

There was a knock, then the enormous mahogany door was pushed open and Draco entered, smiling. He carried a small wooden tray in his hands. On the tray, lay a silver spoon, a crystal vase holding his mother's favourite flower, and a delicate white and blue patterned bowl.

He walked carefully across the room, trying to prevent any of the nettle soup from sloshing out of its fragile china enclosure. He put the tray down upon his mother's delicately carved night stand, then, picking up the bowl and spoon, began to coax her to eat.

"Come now, Mother, you must eat. The house-elves tell me you didn't eat any of your supper last night, and none of your breakfast this morning. You can't go on like this, you have to eat." Draco sat on the edge of his mother's bed, holding the bowl delicately in one hand, the spoon in the other.

"Mother, please, just one bite. If you just ate a little something, I'm sure you'd feel much better," he pleaded desperately.

Narcissa didn't even seem to realise Draco was in the room. She remained immobile, staring ahead, seeing nothing.

Draco continued coaxing and cajoling her, trying anything to get her to eat. Nothing was working. She refused to even acknowledge his presence.

After an hour of trying to get her to eat, he rose wearily from the chair, defeat etched on his face. As he turned to go, he heard a tapping sound on the window.

He walked over to the spacious floor-length windows and opened them. Into the room flew a small owl. It had a light brown head, a cream coloured body with darker brown stripes, and bright pink ribbons tied to the two large tufts that protruded just above its eyes.

Draco looked murderously at the bird. He stalked over to it and roughly removed the note from its foot. It bit him hard on the hand for his rough treatment then flew off back out the open windows.

He opened the note, and then muttered under his breath, "I already told Pansy I wasn't going to her damn party. I've written back six times that I wasn't going. I wish she'd get a clue and stop sending that ridiculous looking owl. She just wants me to come to meet her new boyfriend. I've got more important things to do than go meet some guy, even if he did go to Hogwarts and was a Slytherin."

Draco wadded up the note. He threw it angrily onto the polished oak floor. It had hardly hit the ground when a house-elf popped in and picked it up to take it to its rightful place in the dustbin.

Most of what Draco had muttered had fluttered past Narcissa's consciousness like so many leaves in the wind, but one had permeated the darkness of her mind like a shaft of light shooting through a dark and stormy sky. Slytherin! At the sound of the word, her mind gave a leap out of the muck of despair. Slytherin, Hogwarts, Severus! Severus could help them! Oh, why hadn't she thought of it before?

Shooting stars of hope danced through her body. Then she realised, Oh no! What about Draco? I don't want him to know what I am about to do. He's been so good; he's hardly left my side since...it...happened. Her catatonic state broken, she turned her head to look at her son.

"Draco," she whispered, her voice rough from lack of use.

Draco put the bowl of soup down, and then leaned closer to her to hear what she was saying.

"Draco, did that note say something about a party?"

Draco looked confused, then realised she was asking about the note he had just received. "Yes, it was from Pansy. She's having a party tonight and wants me to go. But I've already owled her and declined. You need me; I'd rather stay here with you."

Narcissa reached up and stroked Draco's cheek. He really was a very good son.

"You've been stuck in this house long enough. I want you to go to Pansy's party. I want you to get out, to enjoy yourself."

Narcissa held her arms out to Draco; he leaned over to embrace her and she stroked his silky hair. "You've been so good," she whispered, "so brave while I've been...ill... you need to go have some fun with your friends. It isn't fair for me to expect you to stay in. I really must insist that you go to the party."

Draco looked into his mother's eyes and saw that she was determined that he go. Sighing, he said, "Alright, Mother, if it will make you happy, I'll go."

Narcissa was relieved. With Draco gone, she could put her plan into action. Severus would make everything alright; he would get Draco out of this mess somehow.

Feeling happier than she had felt in weeks, Narcissa pushed the covers back and got out of bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Draco searched through his wardrobe before deciding on a set of casual but nice soft grey dress robes.

I suppose Mother is right. I should get away from the manor for a while. It's really hard going into her room everyday and pretending I'm happy, that everything is ok, when it is so obviously not. But I can't tell her how frightened I am. I can't tell her how I'm really feeling. It would just make her feel worse, and I can't do that to her.

A sudden lump formed in Draco's throat, and his eyes began to tear up. Wiping them furiously with the back of his hand, he drew a deep breath and then walked over to the large fireplace that almost lined an entire wall of his room. He took a handful of Floo powder from the jar on the mantle and threw it in saying, "Pansy Parkinson's house."

Draco's mind was in as much of a whirl as his body was, as it spun quickly around and around in a flurry of green flames.

I shouldn't be going to this. I should be home with Mother. Merlin only knows how much time we might have to spend in the future. I shouldn't have left her alone with the house-elves for her only company. I should be spending this time looking through Father's library. One of his books might have a spell or something that could help me get into Hogwarts.

He landed gracefully in Pansy's living room fireplace. Ducking under the enormous grey blocks of marble that made up the mantle, he entered the blue and cream expanse of rugs, chairs and tables that littered the Parkinsons' living room.

Pansy, hearing someone come through the Floo Network, looked over to see Draco standing by the fireplace, carefully brushing off the ash from his robes and hair.

"Draco!" she screeched happily, rushing over to greet him. "I'm so glad you're here! I really want you to meet my new boyfriend."

Rolling his eyes, he let himself be pulled over to a large, well-built teenager standing next to a potted plant.

"Here he is. Isn't he just sooo handsome?" Pansy said, taking her boyfriend's arm and gazing up at him adoringly.

Pansy's boyfriend didn't seem to notice that she was there. He was deeply engrossed in a conversation with the potted plant behind her.

Draco, amused, whispered to Pansy, "Why is he talking to a plant?"

"Oh," she said, "ever since he got stuck in the Vanishing Cabinets his mind has been a bit confused. But look at those arms. They are so muscular. And that cute little button nose. He is such a dream!"

Draco stared more closely at Pansy's new conquest. "I thought I recognised him. That's Alex Montague, isn't it?"

At the sound of his name, Montague turned around. Pansy introduced him to Draco. A glimmer of recognition lit Montague's eyes.

"Weren't you in the Inquisitorial Squad too?" Montague asked, his dim eyes becoming sharper.

"Yes, I was. I also played in the Quidditch team, for Slytherin of course."

Draco stared at Montague with undisguised curiosity. "What exactly happened to you when you were stuck in the vanishing cabinets?" he asked. "I never heard the whole story."

Pansy gave Draco a nasty look. "You don't have to talk about it if it upsets you," she said comfortingly to her boyfriend. "I'm sure Draco will understand if it's too painful for you to talk about."

Montague took Pansy's hand in his. "No, it's ok, Peggy," he responded. "I don't mind telling the story."

Draco mouthed 'Peggy?' to Pansy. She turned bright red, then busied herself with getting Montague seated comfortably so that he could begin his story.

Montague drew a deep breath, running a hand shakily through his hair, and began the story. "It all started when we were put in the Inquisitorial Squad. I couldn't wait to use my power to make some Gryffindor's life a misery."

Pansy whispered, "Did you hear that Draco? Isn't he just wonderful?"

Montague continued, "Well, the first Gryffindors I ran into were those Weasley twits. I've hated them ever since one of them landed a bludger to the back of my head. I was in hospital for a week.

"Anyway, I was going to take a load of house points off them, but before I could, they pushed me head first into one of the vanishing cabinets. It was awful. I didn't know where I was. I couldn't get the door open, but I realised I wasn't at Hogwarts. I could hear people talking... talking about Dark objects... I knew I had to be in one of the shops in Knockturn Alley, because none of the regular shops sell stuff like that. I couldn't get out of either of the cabinets. Professor Snape told me later that the reason for that was one of the cabinets was broken.

"So anyway, I just kept being bounced back and forth in the cabinets until I finally tried apparating out of the cabinet. I had never performed Apparition before, and I was terrified but I had to do something!"

"Isn't he so brave?" Pansy said, looking admiringly at Montague's bulging biceps.

"I remember this bit. You ended up in one of the fourth floor toilets. I was sent to get Snape to help you. I remember, when I went into Snape's office, Potter was there doing remedial Potions." He chuckled to himself. "Remedial Potions."

Pansy stroked Montague's arm reassuringly, shooting daggers at Draco. "Well just because you ended up in a toilet doesn't make the experience any less harrowing. You were still really brave."

They got up, and Pansy led him away from Draco and towards the buffet that was set up along one side of the room.

Draco sat by himself, still pleased at the memory of Potter's ineptness at Potions, when he realised what he had heard. Vanishing cabinets! Two of them! One in Hogwarts, the other in Knockturn Alley. Draco searched his memory. He thought he remembered seeing a large cabinet at Borgin and Burkes. He decided to check it out when they went to pick up his school supplies. If the cabinet was there, then he should have no problem, none at all, in fulfilling Voldemort's wishes.

But what then? he thought with growing unease. If the Death Eaters get into Hogwarts, then I'll have to do what I've promised the Dark Lord I'd do. I'll have to...

No. I won't think of it, he said to himself firmly. Not today, not tonight. I'm going to have a good time. This might be the last party I ever go to, and I am going to enjoy it.

He walked over to Pansy and grabbed her around the waist. "Come on, I feel like dancing," he said.