Omnia Mors Perimit

When she had asked her son who he was supporting, it had been more of a rhetorical question. His dislike of the Potter boy was legendary, so of course he'd back up the other one - she had forgotten the kid's name, it didn't matter anyway. But to her surprise, he beamed when answering, "Victor Krum!"

She arched a brow. "He's the Durmstrang champion, isn't he?"

"And the best Seeker in the world!"

"But the other one - what's his name - is from Hogwarts!"

"As if I cared! Plus he's a Hufflepuff! I mean, come on! Hufflepuff! "

"Yes, well, that is admittedly a drawback. Still, darling, you've got to root for your own folks!"

He merely sneered and they continued their way back from the former Quidditch pitch. Lucius would weep if he saw what they had done to his favourite place in the entire school. Now there were huge hedges forming a maze, only the stands were still surrounding the pitch. Despite the contrary appearance and her own professions, Narcissa wasn't keen on watching the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament, frankly, she didn't care for it the slightest bit. Still, it offered her the perfect pretext to come here in the first place without raising too many suspicions. Not even Draco knew what she had come for, but he had bought her act after his initial amazement.

They had taken a walk together, he had showed her around, and now she was on her way to see his Head of House. He was in his office, looking not quite as astonished as she had expected. "Narcissa! Good afternoon! What a pleasant surprise!"

Until Draco left for an errand that his teacher assigned him to, she kept her pretence, but when Severus cast a couple of spells on the door to block and seal it soundproof, she dropped her airy attitude at once and went in medias res. "Just how concerned are you, Savvy?"

He vaguely shrugged. "I ought not worry, right?"

"Let us be candid, dear. Lucius is worried, very much so, and you don't even need to ask me how I feel about this!" She pointedly looked at his left wrist. "It's got worse and worse!"

"Yes... Has Lucius heard anything new?"

"He has not, and I am here because I've hoped that Dumbledore and his network might have found something out."

He slowly shook his head and shrugged again. "He is worried, too, for lots of reasons. I - I have showed him the Mark, right after the incident at the World Cup - and there's something really shady about the Potter boy even being in this darned competition - the Potter boy of all people, Cissa! But if he knows something, he hasn't informed me about it."

"He - he couldn't come back, could he?"

"I don't know, Cissa, honestly. Dumbledore's always believed he'd return one day, and perhaps this is it. But there's not much any of us could do about it."

"Go and fool someone else, Savvy! You're not as cool about this as you want me to believe!"

"Look, what do you want to hear then? That we're all doomed if he comes back? That I haven't got the foggiest clue what to do? If even Lucius is frightened, what do you think I am?! He can always go back, he -"

"He's renounced him, too! And what do you mean - he can go back? He can not go back! I won't allow him to go back, are you out of your mind?!"

"Has he got any alternative options then? Of course he'll go. He's dead if he doesn't! We all are. If he - the Dark Lord - returns to power, we'll play his game or we can hang ourselves straight away. Those are the facts, my dear, face them!" He saw her face and raised his hands soothingly. "Listen, I'm sorry. I had no intention to - to put you off. You and Lucius have always been my friends, I know what I owe to you."

They talked some more, but didn't come to any fruitful result, and then Draco knocked on the door. Severus lifted the spells and Narcissa left, wearing a serene expression again, but she had some difficulties to keep it. Her mind was racing. How could this be? Why the hell wasn't he dead?! He ought to be dead, dead, dead! How could anyone survive a Killing Curse, eh? Sure, Bella had always believed that he was immortal, but that was nonsense, and Bella was simply crazy. Could she have been right after all? But how - why -

"Look, look!" She didn't recognise the voice, but Draco next to her got tense and Narcissa looked around, seeing whatever was left of Alastor Moody, the infamous Auror. Boy, she still had a bone to pick with that guy! He was limping towards them, with a fierce, scornful expression. "Madam Malfoy! What glamour in our shabby halls!"

"Mr Moody! Still alive and - well, not actually kicking, are you?"

"Have you come to knock some sense into your good-for-nothing son's thick skull?"

"Kindly refrain from abusing my son, Mr Moody! And since we're already speaking so charmingly together - what have you been thinking to attack him physically, eh?"

Draco shrank back when Moody made another step towards them, stabbing his finger. "I sincerely hope that he's told you the whole story. He tried to attack another student at first - with that one's back turned! But what can one expect, really. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

Narcissa sneered and straightened her back, making her taller than the stooped wizard. "Have you any complaints to make about my family, Sir?"

"Your family, Madam..." He looked at Draco in disdain. "You come from a very grand family, boy! A looong line of splendid wizards and witches, I give you that. Your turncoat father - your dear aunty who's wreaked havoc upon anyone who's ever come near her - and of course, your mother here. I suppose you're very proud of her. I suppose that's where that swagger of yours comes from!"

"It must be very hard for you, Mr Moody, I understand... You've been great once, too, and look what's become of you. A bitter, crippled old man fit for the mental asylum, who doesn't even trust his own friends, and who no one believes in either. Pitiful, aren't you."

"Spare your pity, Cissy. You'll need it all for yourself!"

She was intrigued by hearing that long-forgotten nickname, but didn't wince. "Do I? Funny. I don't think anyone's ever pitied me. Envied, yes, but never pitied."

"There will come the day when everyone must pay, Mrs Malfoy."

That statement hit home after the meeting with Severus, but Narcissa smiled still. "I don't believe in those phrases, Mr Moody. I understand your attitude though - I guess it comes with old age, the superstition, the nagging anxiety if one's done right, the hate for those who are young..."

"Old age, or suffering." He giggled merrily. "Of course, you cannot understand that. You haven't suffered a single day in your life. Nor has your husband, or your spoilt son."

"See? There it is - the yellow mug of envy."

He was still giggling, but it sounded mad now. "You'll soon be envying me, I trust! Oh, you'll wish you had my scars to trade them for your own fate!"

She gave a little laugh, too. "Yes, yes, sure. I'm in no mood to quarrel with you, Sir. I've come to enjoy the spectacle."

"Oh yes. The spectacle. It's well conceived, Madam, I'm sure you'll be drawn into it completely!"

She lead Draco away until they were out of earshot, then whispered, "Good heavens. Dumbledore's lost it completely to employ that lunatic!"

"I told you! He's giving me that speech each time I see him!"

She shook her head and they left. Moody's words intrigued her. He was an old friend of Dumbledore, and unlike Severus, he had never even flirted with the Dark Side. It was probable that Dumbledore was more candid with Moody than he was with Severus. How should she assess the old Auror's unveiled spite and glee towards her? All the 'Soon you'll envy me - there comes the day to pay - spare your pity for yourself'. Given the present situation, he could only mean one thing, and Narcissa's pulse was rushing. What did he mean? What did he know? Would it make any sense for her to go straight to Dumbledore...? Nah, possibly not. Why should he trust her, after all the stunts that Lucius had pulled?

It was hard for her to keep up the façade; Draco commanded her attention, and he mustn't sense her worries. They spent the afternoon together, until all students and visitors went down to the pitch to secure good seats. Or what they thought to be good seats anyway, because regardless where Narcissa and Draco went to, the hedges were so high and thriving that nothing inside could be seen except for the centre where the hedges were lower and the Triwizard Cup was gleaming in the sunset.

"This is so pointless!"

"Whoa, be glad that you weren't here for the Second Task, mum. Staring at the surface of the lake for one hour, pretending to be really excited!"

"Yes, well - at least some of the other spectators are worth looking at." She gazed around, noticing that the girls from Beauxbatons were in much better shape than most of the Hogwarts students. Their school robes were more elegant, their hairdos better-groomed, their faces fresher and in average prettier.

Draco followed her eyes and shrugged. "I can never dispel the notion that they're some sort of cousin of mine."

She sniggered. "You should have gone to that ball with one of those still."

"I certainly should have, but I didn't get a chance, did I?" He carefully glanced over his shoulder, making sure that the Parkinson girl wasn't in the vicinity. Narcissa grinned - the Parkinson girl was a spectacle in herself, they had met her three times in three hours, 'by coincidence', and it was most embarrassing to watch her around Draco. She had a mad crush on the boy - Draco had never put it that way, but Narcissa had read it between the lines years ago, and anyone seeing the two together could guess. The girl would simper and giggle, batter her lashes and twirl her hair, she was the textbook example of a teenage girl in love who had read all the authoritative girl magazines.

Severus found them and sat down next to Narcissa. "Dear, you'll be bored to tears, I grant you!"

"Try to get in the right mood, Savvy!"

"The right mood? Sure! Perhaps I can get Madam Sprout here to explain what hedges she's grown, what she's done to make them grow so fast and tall, and hey - what insects usually live in them!"

Narcissa laughed. "Excellent! A running commentary, that's what I've come for!"

In that moment, the Parkinson girl pushed herself through the rows, beaming and slumping into the seat next to Draco. "Here you are! I've been looking for you!"

Draco rolled his eyes, and Narcissa grinned wolfishly. "Look who's there, Draco! Miss Parkinson, what a surprise!"

"Thank you, Ma'am! I must tell you, I love your robes!"

"Yes, dear, you've already said so."

"You've got great taste!"

"Yes, dear, you've said that, too."

"Where do you get those?"

"Oh, shut up, Panse. Leave my mother alone, will you!"

She looked hurt, but adjusted speedily and addressed Draco instead. No matter how reluctant his answers, she'd go on talking and talking, and Narcissa turned to Severus, asking under her breath, "Say, did you mention that cursed nickname to Mad Eye Moody? 'Cissy' - why would he call me so?"

"Because he likes to annoy people as much as he can."

"Yes, but how does he even know that name?"

"I don't know. 'Cissy' stands near to reason when your name's Narcissa."

"Only my sisters called me so - well, and their friends in school later on..."

"I can't wait for the term to end. He's made it clear that he'll retire for good then. Unbearable freak!"

"Oh, you should have been there. He was incredibly insolent!" She meant to repeat some of the things Moody had said to her, but stopped when seeing Severus wincing and grabbing his left arm. "Does it hurt very badly?"

"The pain's not the worst about it," he whispered, avoiding to look at her.

She thought of Lucius. He must be feeling the same pain in this moment, and like Severus, he had to conceal it because he was in some business meeting. Her poor darling! She knew that he was scared, and he was there all by himself. But he wouldn't be home before midnight, he had promised some Japanese business wizards to take them out, so she could just as well stay here and support Severus a bit.

"Talk to Dumbledore, Savvy!"

"He's got enough on his plate tonight. I might speak to him tomorrow," he replied flatly.

The four champions walked onto the pitch, Dumbledore officially started the game, and for the next forty minutes or so, nothing happened. The Beauxbatons girl - a distant cousin of Narcissa and Draco, incidentally - had to give up, some time later, 'the world's best Seeker' was carried out, but there was absolutely nothing else to be seen. For heaven's sake, she couldn't say when she had been that bored for the last time! Severus' face was distorted with pain. Narcissa squeezed his right hand, thinking of Lucius. As soon as this was over, she'd rush home, perhaps he was there already, he -

"Oh no," Draco groaned next to her, beckoning at the centre of the maze, where the Potter boy and the other kid had appeared. "Go, Diggory, go! Potter's injured, just run for Merlin's sake!"

But the two boys went along side by side, hesitating before the Cup, then grabbing it simultaneously. Narcissa gasped - in the maze, both children had vanished along with the Cup, and next to her, Severus had made a move as if he had been punched.

"What's this? Where are they?" asked Miss Parkinson, wildly looking around as if they might reappear right beside her. "Have they disapparated?"

"You can't disapparate on Hogwarts grounds, Panse!" Draco grunted irritably.

Severus stared at the pitch in something like disbelief. "What the heck -"

"I take it that's not part of the game then?"

He shook his head, not taking his eyes off the spot where the Cup had been seconds ago. "Oh, sh- shoot! Damn it!" He jumped to his feet, whispered into Narcissa's ear that he had to see Dumbledore and rushed off.

"Where's he going?" Draco asked. "Where's everyone going?"

"It appears that there's been a mistake. The boys ought not to have vanished, I reckon."

"Oh, if they'd just never come back," he sighed. "Potter at least!"

Everyone was confused, and Narcissa had a very dark foreboding. She couldn't put her finger at it, but Severus' pain - the Potter boy gone - this wasn't good. This was absolutely no good! She excused herself, telling Draco she'd go to the bathrooms, but actually hurrying to find Severus. She bumped into him on the stairs, he was out of breath and looked haunted.

"Cissa, you've got to go! He's back - he must be back - he's called us!"

"What?!" She had understood well enough, but she didn't want to believe.

"Go and find Lucius, Cissa! Whatever he's doing, force him to follow the call if you've got to!"

"And you?"

"We'll see about that."

"Savvy! Be reasonable!"

He sneered. "Two hours ago, you've been telling me that going back was not an option."

"Oh god! Oh god, oh god, oh god!"

"Go and persuade him, Cissa!"

"I needn't persuade him! He's not suicidal!"

Suddenly there were cheers in the stands, screams that the boys had returned, and Severus sprinted down the stairs. Instinctively, Narcissa followed him, holding up her robes to keep up. Dumbledore and McGonagall had blasted the hedges to make a path to the middle of the pitch, and a dozen people stood around the boys when the two arrived at last. They grasped the situation in an instant - the Hufflepuff kid was dead, Potter was cowing over the body, sobbing, stammering, there was blood on his shirt.

Narcissa bridled Draco to run to the scene, both hands firmly on his shoulders. She tried to compose her thoughts, tame her worries, process what Severus had told her - how on earth could he have called them?! If he could call them, he must live for a start - how could he be alive still?! In the distance, Narcissa saw Moody and Potter. The child appeared almost paralysed, not putting up any resistance to his teacher. She had the distinct feeling that there was a direct link between the boy and the Dark Lord's return, and she elbowed Severus. "Follow him," she whispered agitatedly, "Potter must know something! You've got to talk to him, Savvy!"

He looked over to the disappearing figures, whispered with Dumbledore, and together with McGonagall, those three pursued the old Auror and Potter. Narcissa had half a mind to go, too, but there was no use. Maybe Savvy was right when saying that she needed to go home in case Lucius - but this was nonsense. Lucius was bound to have followed the calling, she was dead sure... She waited half of the night until Lucius finally returned to the Manor. She was shocked; he was pale and worn-out, all his usual self-confidence had fallen off, his hands were trembling, and he couldn't look into her eyes.

"Cissa -"

"I know, mon amour." She embraced him, pushing his head on her shoulder. "I know... We can make it. We'll come through."

He clang to her like dear life, shaking. "I'm so sorry, Cissa, I -"

"Shhh... You needn't apologise. Nothing of this is your fault!"

He gave a scornful laugh. "Whose fault is it then?"

She laughed, too, bitterly. "His! He ought to be dead, dead, dead!"

"We're doomed, Cissa! Potter's seen me! I'm amazed that the Ministry's not here yet! I'll be in Azkaban by tomorrow!"

"Then flee! Hide! I'll take care of everything!"

"I love you, Cissa... No matter what will happen, you must never forget."

"I love you too, mon amour. And that is why I know we can make it! Potter, ph! Who'll Fudge believe in more, you or that kid! Ha! Wasn't it all over the papers that he's gone nuts? That's a good start. Disturbed orphan, traumatised and psychotic, compulsively seeking attention, and tonight, he's seen his buddy die - he just snapped, didn't he? He was on the edge before, now he's gone a step further!"

He brushed a kiss on top of her head. "You are unbelievable, chérie. Merlin, you're bloody fantastic. You would have made a darn good Law Wizard, you know that?"

"I'm married to a darn good Law Wizard, that's enough." She chucked him under the chin and made him look into her eyes. "Believe me. We. Will. Make. This."