Omnia Mors Perimit

She had always prided herself to be in perfect self-control facing strangers, but right now, she was on the verge of really losing it. For the second time in only three month, a whole squad of Ministry wizards and Aurors had burst into her house without warning, turning it upside down, and if it was only that! If they only made a mess, she wouldn't have complained too loudly. But these complete idiots would tear paintings out of their frames, rip ancient books to pieces, one of them had even dared to deconstruct her piano!

Down in the hall, Bobby was throwing a tantrum, wrestling with some wizard and screeching. "Must - not - distress - Mylady -"

"Let go of him at once!" Narcissa exclaimed in exasperation, gazing over the banister and fastening her morning gown's belt.

The wizard sneered. "I would, it's the elf who won't let go of me!"

"That's enough, Bobby. Leave the man alone."

Naturally, the elf obeyed instantly, falling to his knees and sobbing now. "My mistress - Bobby couldn't stop them - he tried - they would not listen, Mylady -"

"Yes, I see. It's okay. Let them do their job."

She saw a familiar face and marched straight to him. "Arthur," she snarled, unable to keep the tremble out of her voice, "what on earth are you thinking!

Arthur Weasley was the Head of this mission, and Narcissa thought she finally had to change her mind about this one. While Lucius had always despised him, Narcissa had believed him to be a harmless moron, someone who was fascinated by the most boring muggle devices, with romantic ideas and unlucky family connections. Someone that would never -

"We've received a tip, Narcissa, and we have to check up on it."

"Step aside, Mrs Malfoy," one of his colleagues said, his wand drawn.

"Excuse me?"

"Step aside," he repeated, roughly pushing her aside and with a slashing move of his wand, he beheaded the statue that Narcissa had stood in front of. She gave a muffled scream.

"You idiot! That - that is a Rodin, you lunatic! It's an object of art -"

"For all I know, there could be something hidden inside, Ma'am," he gnarled and investigated the remnants of the invaluable piece. Arthur gave a sigh and pulled her away; she struggled and resisted, but he was stronger than her.

"Be sensible, Narcissa -"

"I am sensible, but I appear to be the only one here that is! You - you've been here only a few weeks ago, you've torn everything apart and - what the heck do you believe I could still be hiding now! Lucius is in Azkaban, and I -"

"This got little to do with Lucius," Arthur said calmly. "For all we know, you or Draco could -"

She felt her blood freeze. "Draco? What do you mean by that?"

"I mean that we have received a hint that Draco was hiding dangerous artefacts, that's all," he said in a tone as if he was speaking about the weather. Narcissa glared at him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Arthur! Draco - for heaven's sake, he's sixteen. He may be hiding frog spawn, dung pellets, or vintage pin-up pictures of Celestina Warwick, but what else do you expect to find?"

"Don't treat me like a fool, Narcissa. You know perfectly well what I mean," he said a little sharper.

"Indeed I do not! Your son - which one was it, Ronald or Percival - is in that same year, and although they surely couldn't be more different, you don't seriously mean to imply that a boy of that age -"

"I'm simply doing my job, Narcissa, now please stop hindering us from doing what we're here for."

They had decapitated Jean-Baptiste. She would have meant that a really good joke, if it hadn't been so appalling. Damaging an original Rodin statue - was there nothing sacred?! And worse - what was he babbling there about Draco, and that he had received a tip, eh? Who could have tipped them off? And what the hell could it be that they were searching for?!

Before having swallowed that shock, she caught her breath seeing what they were doing next. Two wizards had taken down a large painting from Caravaggio and Narcissa jumped at them not to dare pointing their wands at it. She was a great art enthusiast, and no matter what people thought of her, she had a great esteem for muggle works as well as magical ones. Lucius had given her loads of wonderful paintings and statuettes, and these Ministry morons didn't even see what they were looking at, let alone show the reverence they ought to be showing in the face of true art and beauty.

"So what do you suggest we do to have a look, Mrs Malfoy," one of the wizards grunted.

"If you absolutely must, let me do it," she groaned weakly, drawing her wand and carefully severing the canvas from the frame. "This is incredibly valuable - irreplaceable, really - it's taken me a whole day of careful repairing the last time you've been here..."

"But this is a muggle item," the wizard said blankly, observing her cautious moves. "Why do you make such a fuss about those?"

"I don't care that it's a muggle item, it's done with artistic mastery, that's all that matters to me!"

He mumbled something that she couldn't hear and vanished after examining the inside of the frame. This was such a waste of time and effort, she sighed to herself, but the cramp in her stomach just wouldn't go away. Had Draco truly hidden something here? And what if they found it? Could they imprison a school boy for possessing illegal objects? Or should she simply claim that it was hers, just in case... Where was The Eel when one needed him, anyway?

"Ziggy," she called out for the elf, and he popped up right beside her with a tormented expression.

"Mylady... This is so dreadful - is there anything I can do for Mylady to help her?"

"Yes, you can in fact. I want you to go to London, right to Mr Yaxley's office. Do not hesitate to disturb him, and tell him I've sent you, and that he's ought to show up here as quickly as possible. Have you got that? Drag him here if you've got to."

The elf disappeared, and a square, mean-looking wizard turned to a Narcissa with a nasty grin. "Getting nervous, Mrs Malfoy, that you're calling for your Law Wizard?"

She didn't honour that with an answer, but when the square one reported to Arthur Weasley that they were done with the Eastern wing and ready to go down to the family vault, she finally lost her nerve. "Arthur Weasley," she whispered through gritted teeth, "if you dare to desecrate the graves of our ancestors, I will not rest before I have sued you to lose everything including the last spear of hair on your head!"

"You can direct your complaints to the Minister for Magic himself. He has authorised us -"

"I demand you to wait until Mr Yaxley is here. He will have something to say to this!"

"As you please, Narcissa, as you please. I just meant that you'd rather want us to get through with this as rapidly as we can."

"I have cooperated, haven't I? I have let you besmirch - damage - destroy - everything that is sacred to me. But if you touch those graves - you'll wish you've never been born after I'm through with you then, and your colleagues, and your Minister. I will not tolerate you to -"

"You're in no position to threaten me, Narcissa. This is the house of a convicted criminal - the vaults belong to this property - take a look into the laws concerning the matter and you will see that you have nothing against us."

She took a deep breath and said as calmly as possible, "Arthur, please. I beseech you not to touch Abraxas' grave! Can't you - just imagine somebody claimed one of your sons had done something, and they'd come to rip apart your father's tomb!"

"None of my sons has a Death Eater as a father, Narcissa. Come on, we will be as careful as we can, my word on it. You'll make them only more suspicious by your resistance."