Be All My Secrets Remembered

Chapter Thirty-Two: Secrets of the Soul

May - August 1980

One of the pitfalls of pregnancy, Narcissa had quickly discovered, was that exhaustion came easily. Too easily, in her view, but there was only so much to be done about that. And, to make matters more difficult, summer had begun, for all intents and purposes, leaving her almost ridiculously thankful for the cooling spells perpetually cast over the Malfoy house.

She had settled down on the parlour sofa with a book, but the next thing she knew, the sound of the front door jerked her awake from an unintentional nap.

"He's in a right fury, he is. I'm glad I'm not the one who has to deal with him." After a moment's confusion, she recognised Walden Macnair's voice, scratchy and rough. Much like the man himself, she observed with distaste. "Ever since Snape brought him that prophecy..."

Unaccountably curious, Narcissa slipped off her shoes and tiptoed toward the cracked-open parlour door. Macnair's back was to her, and she could catch the occasional glimpse of Lucius' robes as he paced about.

"Really, Macnair, you can't blame Snape for the Dark Lord's moods." Lucius sounded somewhat more annoyed than she might have expected. "What he overheard was information of vital importance. It does amaze me how trusting that fool Dumbledore is...the Hog's Head, of all places!"

"Say what you will, it's been nothing but a nuisance as far as I'm concerned. Oh," he added quickly, "I've got no moral objection, if that's what you mean to imply. Nasty, noisy little things, babies. I prefer them quiet."

Lucius did not answer, but Narcissa could hear the scuff of his shoes across the marble floor. Her hand had splayed unconsciously across her belly, as if to protect the child from Macnair's idle words.

"And, really, 'born as the seventh month dies'? There's got to be hundreds of them in England alone. What does he expect us to do? Kill them all?"

A faint chill began to navigate its way down Narcissa's spine. This was not at all what she had expected to hear. Her son, apparently noting her distress, kicked peevishly beneath her palm.

"I don't know, Macnair. I can't read the Dark Lord's mind," snapped her husband. "Have you anything useful to say, or might I be left in peace?"

"I was just curious what you thought about the whole thing."

"About the Dark Lord seeing his end in unborn children?" Lucius laughed shortly. "I find it ridiculous. I've never even heard of that Trelawney woman. I imagine Dumbledore believes her, else he wouldn't have secreted her away at Hogwarts. But all the same, it seems a good deal of nonsense to me."

"I thought you said it was of vital importance?" the other man challenged.

Lucius did not miss a beat. "I was referring to the fact that Dumbledore obviously believes it. He'll expend all his energies on protecting the children in question, which should keep him out of our way for the time being. That being said, I sincerely doubt the prophecy has any validity whatsoever."

"Then," a new note had entered Macnair's voice, one that made Narcissa shudder as she imagined the unctuous smile that certainly accompanied it, "I take it you won't be joining us tonight."

"No. I wasn't told to, so I saw no reason. Besides, I promised Narcissa I'd stay in."

"Speaking of babies..." She imagined the smile growing wider.

Lucius had stopped, and was almost directly facing Macnair, his face perfectly expressionless. Narcissa froze, lest any movement of hers attract his attention. "Yes, Macnair?"

If Macnair heard the unspoken warning, he did not seem to heed it, as he continued blithely, "When is the newest Malfoy due to arrive? It's been the source of some curiosity these past few weeks."

"I can't imagine why my personal affairs should concern you in the slightest," Lucius replied, all ice. "My wife is well, and that is all that matters."

"I should think Midsummer or thereabouts," Macnair remarked, all oily solicitousness. "A good time to be born, I'm told."

"I wouldn't know. Now, if you don't mind, Macnair." This time, the suggestion was unmistakable. With a shrug, Macnair inclined his head and made his way toward the front doors.

Narcissa heard the clicking of the lock into place before letting out her breath in a silent shudder. Born as the seventh month dies...his end in unborn children... Beneath her hand, the baby kicked once more.

***

By the next afternoon, she had made her decision. Lucius was away again, but this time she had watched his departure with relief, rather than resignation, before throwing open the doors of the library and casting about for her goal.

The book was in remarkably good shape, given its age. It had belonged to her father, and he had presented it to her as a gift following her Outstanding Potions N.E.W.T. Of course, it had been some years since she had brewed anything more complicated than sleeping potions or the occasional hangover remedy. With trembling fingers, she turned the pages.

And there it was, the spell she recalled glancing at idly one day, and moving past with a laugh, assuming she would never have need of it.

Her son kicked once more, in a manner that could only be described as petulant. Narcissa laughed weakly. "You shan't be in there long, young man." They had not yet decided on a name. It seemed too much like tempting fate.

She noted the ingredients on a small piece of parchment. She needed a full moon, and thankfully Nature was obliging her. Which gave her two days to plan, and to acquire all she needed. It wasn't very long at all, but there was nothing to be done about that. A quick search through the stores in the cellar produced barely a fourth of the required ingredients. Narcissa sighed. Grimmauld Place was out of the question--Aunt Lavinia would never sanction anything that might place a child of the House of Black in danger. And she would take on Aunt Lavinia before dealing with her own mother's certain hysterics.

Which left her sisters. One of whom she would kill before allowing anywhere near her son.

Andromeda had given Narcissa the address of the flat where she was staying, just after the incident at the Ministry the previous year. If anything happens, if anything is wrong, come to me. You are still my sister. Nothing will change that. It was the first time Narcissa had taken her up on that offer.

The door opened a crack after she knocked, and she could see her sister's eyes widen. "Narcissa?" Andromeda pulled the door fully open, and stared. "Sweet Merlin! I had no idea...oh, 'Cissa, when?"

"Sooner than one might expect," replied Narcissa, deliberately cryptic, as she entered the flat. Her eyes roamed, as uncritically as she could manage, taking in the toys scattered across the floor, and the faded upholstery. "How are you?"

"Well enough, well enough. Would you like some tea?" Narcissa nodded. Her eyes followed Andromeda as she strolled into the tiny kitchen to put the kettle on, then paused and glanced back. "Could you close the curtains, 'Cissa?"

At the request, Narcissa frowned, though she did as she was asked. "What's that for?"

"This. Incendio!" The flames on the stove flared up. "We're in a Muggle neighbourhood. It's a good precaution."

Narcissa nodded vaguely. "Where's your...where is everyone?"

"Ted's taken Nymphadora to the park. If he lets her anywhere near the river, they won't be back for hours." With the aid of the magical flame, the kettle was already brought to boil, and Andromeda busied herself with the teapot. A few moments later, she reappeared, carrying a tray. Shoving aside a teddy bear and a few dolls, she set it on the table. "This is a surprise, 'Cissa," she finally remarked, regarding Narcissa curiously. "Is something the matter?"

Narcissa turned deliberately to pour the tea. "Why should something be the matter?"

"Because, 'Cissa, I know you too well," Andromeda retorted. "I never expected to see you here."

"I need to ask...well, I don't suppose you'd have anything of the sort, seeing as you're here, but I thought..." She shrugged, and drew out the list of ingredients from her purse. "Do you have any of these things on hand?"

Andromeda scanned the list, and her frown deepened. "Goodness, what on earth are you brewing? I don't think I've seen half of these, let alone own them."

Narcissa took the list back, refusing to let Andromeda see her disappointment. "It's no..." She stopped, and looked up at her sister again, making her decision. "I'll tell you. But you're not to tell anyone else."

"Of course I won't. Why should I?" There were now worried furrows between Andromeda's brows. "What is it? You're beginning to worry me, 'Cissa."

She took a deep breath. "There's a potion, in the book Father gave me after I passed N.E.W.T.s. It induces labour, can bring it early if necessary." Quickly, she related the conversation she had overheard. "I know it's just a rumour," she concluded, "but surely you can understand how I'm not willing to take the risk."

"'Cissa, it's dangerous. You know that. You know there's a chance--"

"--that this may be the only child I ever have," Narcissa finished flatly. The other implications were obvious, though she did not speak them aloud. "I know that. But I will not risk my baby's life. I've already lost one child to him," the pronoun spat with all the venom of an epithet. "I will not let him have the other."

Andromeda looked at her, fingers tightening around Narcissa's hands, and nodded. "You'll want someone to fetch ingredients from Knockturn Alley. Most of these," she gestured to the page, "I certainly don't have, and I can't imagine even you do. I would go myself, but..."

"Of course, I understand completely." She closed the book, and slipped it back into her bag. "And I can brew it myself as well. I just wanted..." She took a breath. "I wanted someone else to know, in case something goes wrong."

It was those words that caused Andromeda to crack, to draw Narcissa into a protective embrace. "Are you sure you don't want me there with you?"

"We can't risk it," Narcissa countered, though her grip around her sister's waist did not loosen. The house-elves might say something, stupid creatures. "You're in enough danger already, by my coming here."

"Have you told Lucius? Does he know?"

Narcissa shook her head. "He'd never let me do it. Not with the risks involved. He mustn't know, Andromeda, not ever. An early birth, nothing more." She recalled the expression on her husband's face, that sudden blankness, when Macnair had asked, oh-so-solicitously, when the newest Malfoy was due to arrive.

"'Cissa, you must be careful," whispered Andromeda. "Please promise me that."

"I promise I will be as careful as I can," Narcissa told her, as she drew away. "Take care, sister."

"And you."

***

When one of the house-elves announced Severus Snape some few hours later, Narcissa all but jumped out of her chair. The creature's eyes widened in surprise, at its mistress' odd behaviour, but within seconds, Narcissa's demeanour had reverted to its usual coolness. "Show him in, then. What are you gawping for?"

Severus himself entered after a moment or two. He looked unaccountably tired, and Narcissa rose to take his hands in hers. "Goodness, Severus, your hands are freezing! Where have you been?"

"It's of no consequence," he replied, eyes on the floor. "Is Lucius here?"

She shook her head. "I asked for you, not him. He's not here, won't be home for a few hours yet." Letting go of his hands, she moved past him to gaze up at one of the portraits on the wall. "Severus, I must ask you for a favour."

"Anything. You know that."

Narcissa smiled bitterly. "You really ought to be more careful, dearest. I won't hold you to that." Turning, she looked at him again. "I need you to fetch me some ingredients from Knockturn Alley. I can't go myself. It would be far too suspicious."

"Ingredients for what?" This was closer to the Severus she knew, eyes narrowed in slight suspicion as his hands twisted at his waist.

"Before I tell you, you must promise me something." He nodded shortly. "You must tell no-one. Not even Lucius." She was standing very close to him now, and noted with some puzzlement that he had moved backward almost instinctively. "Severus, promise me."

"Not until you give me a better reason than that. I don't like this, Narcissa." Still, he did not touch her, though his hands began to move faster, fingers twining and untwining like pale snakes against black robes. "Why are you being so secretive?"

"I know about the prophecy, Severus. I overheard Lucius discussing it. A child to be born as the seventh month dies." She swallowed, her eyes moving downward to rest on the swell of her abdomen. "Do you understand?"

"It's not possible, Narcissa. There was more to the prophecy than that. I heard it myself. There was--"

"He had me attacked for less, Severus. My own sister did the deed. He's got her eating out of his hand, willing to kill even her own kin for him. I will not risk it again." In spite of the words, her voice had raised only fractionally. Her eyes, she kept fixed on his face, gauging his reaction. "Will you help me, Severus? Will you protect my son?"

It was his turn to hesitate, to turn aside so his gaze fell on something else, some unimportant heirloom sitting on a nearby table. "Let me see the ingredients," he finally said. Even as he held out his hand, he did not look at her.

Narcissa handed him the parchment, and waited as he skimmed it.

"And you mean to brew this yourself?"

"I do," she said. "I was quite good at potions back at Hogwarts. Not quite your calibre, I will admit, but enough for something such as this."

He was quiet for several moments. Then, with a sudden surge of animation, he burst out, "Let me do it, Narcissa. If something goes wrong..."

"You can blame yourself?" she demanded. "No, Severus. I want the ingredients, nothing more. I owe it to myself and my son to do this on my own."

For a second, she could have sworn she saw something in his face. Something raw and anguished, but quickly forced back. "And what if I refuse?"

"Then you will say nothing, and that will be the end," Narcissa declared, keeping even the slightest tremor from her voice. "But I doubt you will refuse."

"You've made it bloody impossible," he muttered. "If I refuse, you'll do something rash. I know it. Damned Blacks."

She reached out and rested one hand on his shoulder, holding it steady even as he half-jerked away. "I trust you, Severus."

"You shouldn't," he whispered. "You really, truly shouldn't."

***

Five days passed. Outside of a growing gnawing in her stomach born of nervousness, nothing seemed to be happening. She didn't dare try again.

Then, on the morning of the third of June, she awakened screaming. The world had shrunk down to a pinprick at the corner of her eye, forced into inconsequence by her child's sudden desire to just escape. Every now and then, flashes of lucidity revealed her husband's face, taut with fear, and the sensation of his hand gripped around hers.

She did not know how long it lasted, only that it seemed neverending. And that between the contractions, she dreamed of serpent-eyed wizards reaching toward her, and all she wanted was to keep her son within, where he was safe.

Without warning, it was over. Somewhere far away, a baby's angry wail registered, and Narcissa slipped into her first dreamless sleep since drinking the potion.

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Lucius asleep in the uncomfortable bedside chair. His head was pillowed on his arms, and one of his hands was still holding hers. Narcissa barely had to shift her weight, and he jerked awake, blinking blearily at her.

"Promise me something," he said, voice hoarse. "Promise me...that...won't ever happen again."

For one horrible moment, all that Narcissa could think of was how on earth he could have found out about the potion. She knew she had covered her tracks well...or at least, she thought she had. But Lucius' expression could not have been further from anger. She found herself relaxing inwardly, a faint smile spreading over her face. "I suppose you're tired of hospital vigils. Oh love," she murmured, cradling his face in her hand. Then, as she glanced around the room, she frowned. "Where's...I know I heard a cry...?"

At that, Lucius did smile, albeit wearily. "I'll have them bring him in. Now that you're awake."

By the time Narcissa had managed to struggle to a seated position, the matron had returned with a blanket-wrapped bundle that she promptly deposited in Narcissa's arms. "He's got the look of his dad, that one. Although..." Her eyes shifted from Narcissa to Lucius, "I don't suppose there's much to choose between you, at least as far as we can tell from him now."

The baby's eyes were still squeezed shut, but the layer of down on his head was a shade of unmistakeably pale blond. Narcissa laughed. "He's perfect. Just as I said he would be."

Lucius was studying them both thoughtfully. "We never did agree on a name, did we?"

"Draco." There was no hesitation in her voice. "He's a Black as well. It seems only fitting."

"Draco Malfoy," he echoed, as if to taste the name. "Yes. Yes, I think that will do quite well."

***

The maternity ward at St Mungo's Hospital had only two inhabitants on the last day of July. The first was an Auror, clucked over disapprovingly by multiple doctors for her insistence upon returning to work as soon as possible, in spite of having just given birth to a robust baby boy. Her husband merely shrugged. "Alice always does precisely as she pleases," he pointed out, "and it's not harmed her yet."

The second was one of their own, and the birth was somewhat harder than expected. The two women were, in fact, due on the same day, but Lily Potter's labour extended past midnight, and around four in the morning, one of the hospital matrons stepped into the corridor to present her chronically pacing husband with a black-haired boy.

"Is she alright?" James Potter barely looked at the baby, his voice raspy from constant muttering and far too much coffee. "It sounded awful in there and I wasn't allowed in..."

"Your wife is fine, young man. She's stronger than you think," the matron informed him pertly, holding out the child. "He looks like you."

James peered at the tiny face, unable to quite stifle his grin at the almost-scowl the baby--his son--directed up at him. "He doesn't seem very happy."

"You wouldn't be either if you'd just been pulled out into the cold," the matron replied with a knowing shake of her head. "Now, where's that other young man who was with you earlier?"

"He went to fetch..." James' words trailed off distractedly, staring at the baby in his arms.

"More coffee," Sirius' voice cut in, his smile evident in the words, "but I see it's not necessary. Unless for you, ma'am?"

Their murmured exchange went unnoticed, as the baby squirmed and opened his eyes. They were an odd unfocused blue, but James had no time to think on that, as he began to cry. Startled, his arms jerked forward, instinctively trying to hand the baby to someone more authoritative.

"You'll have to learn sometime," the matron remonstrated. Belatedly, James realised that he'd all but shoved his son into Sirius' arms, Sirius, who had somehow managed to calm the baby ever so slightly by pulling several very strange faces. The matron sighed, but he could see she was doing her best not to smile. "Now, would you like to see your wife? I'd say your boy's in good hands."

James nodded wordlessly, ignoring Sirius' laughter as he followed the matron into the room.

***

In retrospect, Remus could have thought of more people he would not have expected to see on his doorstep, but at the time, opening the door to find Lily standing there was the last thing he ever would have predicted.

"Lily, come in!" Stepping back, he pulled the door open further. "Is everything alright? What's going on?"

"Everything's fine, Remus. I'm fine, James is fine, and Harry's fine." Pushing the door shut, she faced him. "You, on the other hand, strike me as less than fine."

Remus blinked. "What gave you that idea?"

"You're avoiding everyone," she replied simply. "James might be too preoccupied to notice, but I'm not. And especially--"

"Don't say it," he interjected, well aware that she was going to say it anyway.

"Sirius." Lily crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Do you care to explain? You've barely spoken two words to him that I've seen, since that night in Hogsmeade."

Remus sighed. "I don't suppose telling you he and I see one another all the time when you're not looking would work."

She shook her head, settling herself on the couch. "Are you going to tell me, or do I need to drag it out of you?"

"Lily, it's nothing. I promise. It's just..." Remus searched for the words, "a misunderstanding. A disagreement, of sorts. We'll deal with it in our own time."

"Not if you're headed to Siberia, you won't be," remarked Lily tartly.

At that, Remus could only stare openmouthed for a few moments. "Who told you?"

"Mundungus Fletcher let slip something about a request for double-strength vodka."

Though he tried his best to keep his thoughts to himself, Remus could not help emitting several low-voiced curses upon Mundungus Fletcher, his ancestors, and any possibility he might have of begetting descendants.

"I'd never have thought of feeding anything to a Thestral, let alone that particular part of the anatomy," Lily mused with a badly-hidden grin, "but I'll keep it in mind if I ever need to castrate someone. Are dragons so out of style these days?"

"Everyone thinks of dragons. And I imagine Thestrals are less picky." Remus even managed to crack a smile. "Who else knows?"

"Just me, as far as I'm aware. I warned Mr Fletcher that you'd probably prefer to keep your illegal alcohol smuggling activities secret. He took the advice to heart, I like to think." Lily leant forward and laid one hand over Remus'. "Why Siberia?"

"Rumours," replied Remus, his smile melting away. "Always rumours, but this time there might even be a witness. And who better to treat with werewolves than one of their own kind?" He laughed bitterly. "I offered, of course. It seemed the sort of thing one ought to do."

"And you wanted to avoid Sirius," she concluded. "Is something wrong? Is it something we ought to know?" There was an urgency in her voice that had not been there before. "I've heard rumours too. That someone's been...that someone's been giving the Death Eaters information about the Order."

"And you think...?" Remus couldn't finish the question. "You didn't think it was me, did you?"

"I didn't, no," she said, almost too quickly, though her eyes remained fixed on his. "Would I be here if I thought you were a traitor, Remus? Think about it."

"Lily, I swear, it's nothing like that. There was...Pa---Sirius and I..." He faltered, lowered his eyes and gritted his teeth against what he hoped was not a blush, "Something happened. Something stupid, that won't happen again. Because it was a horrible idea, and I wasn't thinking, and I just...I should have said no." But he hadn't been able to, of course. Not at the time. Not with that grey gaze asking the question, that maddening smile threatening as the moonlight played across his skin. Beautiful. Beyond resisting.

He realised Lily was staring at him, that her mouth was hanging slightly open. And that was when he remembered Peter's warning and cursed inwardly.

"Wait a moment," she finally said. "Do you mean to tell me...you can't...but Sirius, he..." She gave up, falling back against the cushions. "It was you, then? All this time? And he and Dorcas were...?"

"No. Oh, no, no, that's not it at all." The words tumbled out of Remus' mouth before he could stop himself. "Just once. And as I said, never again." Because I don't intend to be alone with him again. Bad things happen when I'm alone with him. "And before you bring up anything about my never being seen with girls at school, I'll have you know Peter asked me the very same thing, and it means absolutely nothing."

"What on earth do you plan to do, then? He'll still be here when you come back from Siberia, you know," Lily pointed out.

"I'll cross that bridge when I get to it." He sounded far more confident than he felt. "Lily, you can't tell anyone. Not even Prongs, right? Please, promise me."

Lily sighed. "I like to think James would...well, I don't suppose I know, really. But if you insist, I guess I'll have to." Then, after a moment's pause, she frowned. "But there is something I don't understand."

"Yes?" Remus did his best not to squirm under her gaze.

"Exactly why are you avoiding him?" Overriding anything he might have said in response, she barrelled onward. "I understand what happened, Remus. But it...you said you weren't thinking, and that you should have said no, which leads me to believe it was your choice."

Remus swallowed uncomfortably. "It was. I never said it wasn't. I just pointed out that it wasn't a good choice. In fact, it was a terrible choice. And not happening again."

"So you've said," she replied, almost dryly. "Though what interests me is why you're going so far out of your way to avoid him now. Are you afraid it might happen again?"

And there it was, the crux of the matter. Remus could feel the heat rising in his face. "It won't. Damn it all, Lily, you know what he's like!"

"I do. Hence my confusion." Lily smiled, and the expression struck Remus as so oddly maternal that he very nearly laughed at the absurdity of it all. "If it's Dorcas you're worried about..."

"I don't know. I just don't know. I mean, he says that he loves her, and then he goes and does this, and I don't even know what to think anymore." It was only when he realised Lily was some distance away that Remus understood he had stood up and begun to pace the room. "What I do know is that he very nearly got me turned over to the authorities, just because he had a grudge against Severus Bloody Snape!"

He nearly jumped at the pressure of Lily's hand on his shoulder. "Remus, did it never occur to you that there might have been more to that...incident than met the eye?"

"I only know what I've been told. Essentially nothing. He sidestepped the issue, the way he always does. Anyone would think it was some horrible Black family secret," he snapped with a grimace. "If it's congenital insanity, I'm afraid the entire world already knows."

"So you don't think you can trust him, that's it?" When Remus finally looked back at her, there was a strange expression on her face, as though caught between understanding and dismay. "Because of what happened back at school."

"He betrayed me, Lily. I can't predict him anymore, and God knows I can't trust him not to do it again. Especially not now. Lily," he lowered his voice instinctively, "I saw his brother. Regulus, you remember him?" Lily nodded vaguely. "He knew. Or at least suspected. The Death Eaters sent him after me, to convince me to meet with Fenrir Greyback."

"But that's impossible!" Lily's eyes, wide with sudden fear, peered at him over the hands now covering her mouth. "Unless...maybe they were spying on Sirius. They might have seen you leave his flat, and drawn their own conclusions."

"Or it might be something worse."

"You can't mean that." She stepped back, a stubborn set to her jaw. "Sirius simply isn't capable of it."

"Isn't he?" Try as he might, Remus couldn't keep the hurt out of his voice. "He's still a Black, Lily. Who knows what they've offered him to get him back? You know what they could give him. For God's sake, Lily, they're winning!"

"And you truly think he might be...?" Lily shook her head. "I don't believe it. And I really don't think you do either, Remus." Then, after a moment's hesitation, she nearly whispered, "Do you?"

Remus sighed. "I don't want to, Lily. But I know what he's capable of doing."

"Remus, talk to him. I'm asking you to talk to him. At least let him explain himself, and tell him what's going on." Her voice was trembling, as if she were on the verge of tears. "He's got no idea. That much I can certainly tell you."

"Lily, I need time."

"And time is the one thing we might not have, Remus." She reached out to grab his hands. "You said it yourself: they're winning." The words seemed to choke her, and she had to stop to catch her breath. "Just be careful, Remus. Please. Come back safely."

"Of course I'll come back," he said, forcing jocularity. "Sirius may be the only one declared officially, but you don't think I'd leave poor Harry without at least two godfathers to spare, do you?"

Lily laughed weakly, but to Remus, the sound was only barely removed from a sob.

NB: The idea of Narcissa inducing labour in order to protect Draco from being Voldemort's target is not my own. It is taken from the chillingly gorgeous 'Sea Change' by tangleofthorns, written for the Livejournal femgenficathon.