Omnia Mors Perimit

In retrospection, he couldn't recall how he had come home. How he had even survived. Severus had saved him, somehow, begged for his old friend's life, Graham had carried him out, had disapparated with him, had carried him all the way to the Manor. Narcissa had waited, she always did, and freaked out when seeing the blood, his broken limbs. The next thing he could say for certain was that he had woken up in their bed, his wounds taken care off, his fractures already mended. Narcissa's features were as white as the linen; she was sitting beside the bed, and informed him that she had put him to sleep for three days until his worst injuries had healed. She sat down on the mattress, tenderly stroking his cheeks.

"Graham has told me what has happened, mon trésor. The bastard! That rotten piece of filth! Mark my words, he will pay for this!"

He feebly shook his head, reached out for her and pulled her down to lie beside him. "Leave it be, my love. He punished me for good reason."

"Graham mentioned the word 'punishment', but he didn't know what for, and I strongly doubt that you've deserved any punishment at all!"

"He's found it out, Cissa... The thing with the diary!"

"Diary...?"

"The diary that could open the Chamber of Secrets. He entrusted it to me, and I've lost it."

"And that's what you call 'good reason'?! You've really got yourself a bad concussion there, mon amour!" She cuddled up to him, very careful not to hurt him, and tentatively pressed his hand. "Don't you justify the fiend!"

"I don't mean to justify him... But I'm alive, am I not, and that's all that counts for now."

Narcissa wasn't pacified so easily. She had nearly got a heart attack when she had seen him, had dreaded in agony for an entire night that he wouldn't come through, she had prayed and trembled, and played Spanish Inquisition with poor Graham. She had been on the verge of seeing the Dark Lord himself and make him pay for what he had done to her husband, only her anxiety for this one's recovery and her last scraps of common sense had kept her. Who did he think that he was?! What did he think was he doing?! And Lucius' explanation didn't make it any better. They had believed the Dark Lord to be dead, so no one could reasonably expect them to store his old belongings, for goodness' sake! Some silly booklet, and for that crap he'd almost killed her husband! All right, so it would open the Chamber of Secrets, big deal! Had he forgotten how to do it then, that he needed that cursed thing so badly?!

She had been sitting in the armchair next to their bed for three days and nights, watching over him, murder in her heart and revenge on her mind. She had been repelled by the whole business right from the start, she was frightened out of her wits that Lucius could be caught, that there was a war at hand in which he could be injured or - beware - killed, she hated the idea of Lucius being compelled to kneel down before some ludicrous master, but she had arranged herself with all this, hadn't she?! And then this - this - swine, this monstrous bastard - would torture her beloved husband until he was half-dead?! How dare he!

Thanks to her devoted care, Lucius recovered quickly, and soon he went back to the office. This gave Narcissa the opportunity to leave the Manor without his knowledge, because she had conceived a plan. Ten years ago, they had spent the holidays in Derby; they had clambered up hills and one day, Lucius and Draco had discovered a cave that wasn't even on their maps. The boy had been thrilled and they had explored the cave, which wasn't big, but sufficient, now that she thought of it. She had racked her brains to find some safe place, some sanctuary where they could go when the worst should happen, a place that nobody else knew, where they could never be found, not by the Ministry's henchmen, and more importantly, not by that monster that arrogated to have himself called 'Lord'.

It took her almost two weeks to rediscover the spot, which turned out to be a stroke of true luck, because some years ago, a landslide had changed the whole scenery and what was more, blocked the entrance with debris and solid rocks. That had happened so long ago that grass and bushes had grown over it all very discretely and unobtrusively, in short - Narcissa was delighted. She remembered enough of the place to manage apparating inside of it, ignited her wand and gazed around. Oh well. It certainly wasn't Malfoy Manor, but it would do as a hideaway, even for three more or less grownups. There was one bigger cave, approximately fifteen to twenty feet in size, and two smaller adjoining that one, each roughly four square metres.

During the next weeks, she cautiously stashed away necessities, bedding and linen, some cauldrons and china, books even, chandeliers, candles. She recalled what she had learnt in Muggle Studies and went to a muggle Shop, naturally in disguise, one could never be too careful. She bought a camping stove and other equipment, a tin opener and loads of tins. She was amazed to find out that there was practically nothing that the Muggles wouldn't put in a tin and conserve for the coming decade - it was absolutely fantastic for someone in her situation. There were all kinds of vegetables and fruits, there was fish and meat for her men, and that wasn't all - entire meals already cooked, pasta and soups and stews! She hadn't held a cooking spoon in her life, so this was like heaven for her.

And since she had been in school, the muggles had made a whole lot more interesting inventions, she realised while walking down Oxford Street. The entire concept of cell phones, for example, was just exhilarating! She had had some muggle clothes before already, because every now and then, Lucius did make business deals with them and impressed his partners with his stunning wife. But for her possible purposes in the future, she needed more, and what was most, more unobtrusive clothes. All her own things were flashy and classy, for going out. If she wanted to blend in with the muggle crowd in some average supermarket, she needed more plainness, less style. All the time, she organised to get muggle cash, storing it in the cave along all the other things.

She was extremely careful in every aspect. She didn't withdraw any appreciable sum of money from their Gringotts vaults. There was ample of gold in every corner of the Manor, muggle money as well, not even Lucius would ever notice if any of it was gone. She left by secret passages, was never gone from the Manor for long, she took many detours to make sure that nobody followed her, she used spells to change the colour and length of her hair, her eyes, chose a different nose each day, she diminished her breasts and enlarged her bottom. From the Manor itself, she didn't take anything away that even the servants could be missing. She even rearranged their photo albums - she took out every picture that depicted their stay in Derby then, sorted the other photos anew so that nobody saw that anything was missing.

When Draco came home for Christmas, she had happily completed her mission, still she wouldn't tell anyone. There would come the due time for Lucius, and Draco wasn't even capable of Occlumency, so no vital information could be safe with him. Hopefully, they wouldn't need it anyway.

Draco wasn't the only one arriving that day. Later that same day, she overheard an argument among the house-elves in the hallway, and when she went out to see what the heck they were doing there, she was startled to find some shrivelled, unspeakably ugly elf that did not belong here, and was held in headlock by Ziggy.

"What do you think are you doing here?!"

"Mylady," Ziggy groaned, beads of transpiration on his bald head. "I have told this - this - creature - that Mylady must - not - be - disturbed!"

The other elf had been wailing, but when spotting Narcissa, he stopped and panted instead, "Mylady Narcissa!"

"She's not your Mylady, tramp!"

"She - is," the elf coughed, and Narcissa gestured at Ziggy to loosen the headlock. "Mylady Narcissa must remember Kreacher - Kreacher was the most faithful servant of Mylady's aunt Walpurga -"

Oh, for goodness' sake. "Kreacher? I didn't think you were - well - alive still."

"And Kreacher wishes he was dead, Ma'am! Only Mylady can help!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"The master - the vile master has returned -" At first she believed that the elf, who must be ancient by now, had simply gone nuts and now imagined that her uncle Orion had returned form the dead. But despite the fact that he was clearly crazy, he made some sense still. It must be Sirius who had returned from the proverbial dead - who had come back to his parents' house that he had always despised so much, and seemed to make a mess of the place, according to the sobbing servant, who for some mysterious reasons hoped that she could help him prevent this.

They had gone down to the kitchen; Narcissa didn't want Draco to be disturbed by some weirdo on his first night home. The elf kept on complaining, stammering inconsistent nonsense, wearing Narcissa's patience out and she was already on the verge of leaving when hearing him speak of 'the master's cursed god-son', a 'bunch of red-haired blood traitors' and a 'mudblood'. That rang a bell and she turned around.

"The Potter boy? You mean the Potter boy?"

"Master's forbidden Kreacher to talk about the - the - boy. He's very fond of that brat! Fonder than of his own blood! His own family! Oh, if Kreacher's poor Mistress was alive!"

"Ziggy - offer our guest a drink and something to eat. Kreacher - you'll wait right here. I'll be back in a minute!" She fetched Lucius under a pretext and ordered the elf to repeat some of the things he had said. Lucius was scornful in the beginning, but when the elf got to the point concerning Potter and his mates, he had Lucius' full attention.

"So that's where they're hiding him? The Potter boy is in Black House?"

"Kreacher - mustn't speak - of those - things!"

Narcissa gave him her best smile, bowed down and patted his arm. "That is all right, Kreacher. We understand. A house-elf must always obey his Master's orders. But the way I see it, you aren't prohibited to speak of your master's godson, are you? And that godson is presently a guest in your Master's house, right?"

He nodded eagerly. "They're destroying everything! Even tried to undo my mistress' family tree! Throwing her treasures away! Veiling her portrait!"

"Yes, yes. Disgusting. We'll see what we can do about that. Now let us come back to that child for a moment..."

Lucius was hooked, and after observing his wife some more, he got the gist how to talk to the crazy elf himself. She left after a while, Lucius got along tolerably well on his own, and it was still Draco's first night home! Her baby was there, and she was determined to relish every minute with him, even when the possible key to their entire future as a family was sitting downstairs. When it was true what her aunt's servant said, they now knew where the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix was - sure, it was likely enough protected, but the Dark Lord would be a bit impressed nonetheless, which in turn secured Lucius' health.

"Mum, you're not listening!"

"I am listening, darling. You were speaking of Madam Umbridge."

"And what did I say just now?"

"All right, you've got me there. I was just wondering if everything is sufficiently prepared for Christmas. So what did you say?"

"I said that she's super! She checks Dumbledore, she's about to kick out Hagrid, and she truly hates Potter."

"Sounds as if she was quite competent, precious!"

"Yeah! Okay, she's overdoing it sometimes. Can you imagine that all the Quidditch teams had to apply for a permission to meet? Of course, I asked her and we got our permission straight away, but still. And then, she seems to have a grudge with Professor Snape, which is ridiculous - he's the best teacher in all Hogwarts by far."

"Yes, that's what I imagine, he's a brilliant potioneer. But why would she have a grudge on him?"

"I don't know! I guess Dumbledore must have poisoned her."

"I thought she doesn't get along with Dumbledore?"

"Doesn't say that she'll simply do the opposite of everything he says, right? Anyhow, she put Professor Snape on probation. Boy, he was mad! Of course, he never gets overemotional, but you could tell."

"Tell your father about it, dear. He's on very good terms with the Minister for Magic, I'm sure he can put in a good word for Professor Snape and sort this nonsense out in no time."

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Aut amat... A woman loves or hates, there is no third option.