Alarm Bells

Narcissa shifted in her seat. How long had she been sitting there? She had finished the book that she'd been reading and had spent the last hour or more rearranging the decorations on the mantelpiece and straightening the knick knacks on Lucius' desk. She looked over at the clock on the mantle. She couldn't remember what time it had read when Lucius had left. But then again, she hated those clocks.

The clock on the library mantle was one of Lucius' alarm clocks. It had a graduated set of six bells ascending up either side of the clock face and one giant bell on the top. The bells were enchanted to ring in different combinations under different circumstances. If Lucius had overslept the tiny bells at the bottom would tinkle in a slow crescendo until he had awoken. If an unexpected intruder were on the grounds of the manor, the third bells from the top clanged loudly in protest. Narcissa had been told to listen most closely to the bells at the top of the clock. The single top bell would ring if Lucius were injured, and one night it had. Lucius had never told her the full story of that night, but he had come home bleeding and barely conscious and being held upright by a combination of the efforts of Severus Snape and Rodolphus Lestrange. She hadn't been allowed to follow them into the nearby guest bedroom and no one had ever bothered to tell her what had gone on that leave her husband in such a state. That was the first night they'd spent apart in their two year marriage, and it had been more than a week until Lucius had been fully well again. She'd wanted to break that bell ever since.

But even that one bell wasn't the most frightening. Lucius had told her that all of the bells would ring if he were to be killed and the potential sound of that had haunted her in her sleep more than one time since the Dark Lord's reemergence. That was part of the reason she had chosen to stay awake this night. That- and she really did look forward to the ardor Lucius had displayed upon his homecomings of late. And she didn't care what he said; she knew by the look on his face when he had awoken her by accident that he really was sorry to have disturbed her. So she had chosen not to try and sleep before he returned home tonight. Instead, she had put on something lacy and white and made of silk and waited for him in the library.

And she was bored out of her mind. She had mentioned to Lucius when this was all starting up again that she couldn't remember how she'd kept herself occupied when he used to be out so often. "You made those lacy things," he had reminded her, "there was one of those things pinned to every couch and cushion in this house." She chuckled remembering the look on his face. But he had been correct. Narcissa had almost forgotten her penchant for bobbin lace. The doilies had long since disappeared from the house (she had only guessed at whose insistence). She would sit up until all hours of the night bent over her blue velvet lace pillow and waiting for Lucius to come home. "And then there were the times you were sick and did nothing but sleep," he had offered, "and then you had an infant son who refused to sleep through the night." Narcissa had to been shocked that he had brought that up. He rarely discussed her near death on the occasion of Draco's birth... and he never brought up either of her two miscarriages.

Well, she hadn't an infant to care for, and she never would again. She had found her lace pillow, and even toyed with her lace making again, but she was nearly fifteen years out of practice. The lace pillow and bobbins sat in the drawing room collecting as much dust as the House Elves would allow it to and she remained bored to tears when Lucius was away.

She had turned Lucius' tall leather desk chair around to face the windows when she heard the alarm bells start to ring. She jumped at the din of the combination of noises. All.... Narcissa spun the chair around and lurched forward to lean against the desk.

All the bells.

All of the bells were ringing.

Not all. Narcissa stared at the clock on the mantle. Not all of the bells were ringing. The top bell stood still as the other twelve clanged furiously. No top bell. No injury. Twelve side bells.... Captured?

Narcissa thought she was about to throw up. Captured. Lucius. Then she thought she was going to faint. She really wasn't certain what she was going to do; her white knuckles clung to the desk as she felt her head swimming around her. The cacophony of bells ceased suddenly and only the two bells third from the top continued to ring.

Intruder? Narcissa heard a loud and irregular series of 'cracks' and found herself surrounded by the manor's small contingent of House Elves. "Missus, there's Aurors," the largest of the group said to her.

Aurors.

At Malfoy manor. She was going to throw up.

"Aurors?" she asked, unable to say anything else.

"Yessum," the same Elf answered her, "Apparated to the gatehouse; coming up the walk." Narcissa didn't have time to throw up, nor had she the luxury of fainting at this moment. She had to act.

"Go until I call you," she banished the lot of them. She darted from behind the desk through the library and out into the hallway, snatching her dressing gown from the back of the desk chair as she went. She sped down the hall at a flat run and dashed as quickly as she could down the stairs without tripping, all the while throwing her dressing gown over her shoulders and tying the sash around her waist.

She made it to the drawing room faster than she had ever thought she could and she stood in the center of the Persian rug, her heart pounding in her chest. She tried to concentrate on the feeling of the thick wool pile between her bare toes. She knew she had to stand here until the Aurors were finished with her. This particular rug had been enchanted by Lucius' great great grandmother to vanish the cramped room beneath it whenever it was being stood upon by the lady of the house. Narcissa had to keep her feet on that rug at all costs. She tried to slow her breathing, but to no avail. She could hear the clatter of boots on the stone steps approaching her front door and it made her heart leap into her throat.

"Narmin," she called out. The larger House Elf appeared before her with a 'crack'.

"Yes Missus?" the Elf answered her. His knees were shaking and he looked as though he too was about to faint.

"Open the door," she said to him. It was easy to be cool to the servants and, if she was going to appear composed and unaffected before the Aurors, then she had best pull herself together at once. The Elf hobbled to the door and opened it just in time to open it on a crowd of twelve men fumbling for position on the front steps.

"Missus will see you in the drawing room," Narmin announced. He pulled the door open far enough to allow the whole group access and he gestured with his hand toward the open pocket doors that led to the drawing room. Two of the men remained with the door, pulling out their wands and something Narcissa thought she recognized as surveying tools. The rest of them clambered into the entry hall and two more seemed to take up positions at the newel posts marking the bottom of the grand staircase. The six remaining came shuffling into the drawing room. One of them stepped forward and looked Narcissa in the eye.

"I apologize for disturbing your sleep, ma'am," he said to her, his voice a whiny squeak. Sleeping... yes, that's what she'd been doing in her nightgown. Narcissa was suddenly aware of just how much skin was showing where her dressing gown split at her chest. She clutched the white silk lapels together and took a deep breath.

"Well you have disturbed it," she answered him coolly. She was shocked at how even her tone had been, how calm she sounded. "State your business here," she ordered him, a scowl crossing her features. She regarded this man. He was a squat, mousy looking thing with a flimsy moustache and he looked to be little older than Draco. I have gloves older than this fool. She thought he looked quite ridiculous as he presented her with some sort of a badge and then read to her from a scroll of parchment.

"My name is Wallace Bartram Covington the fourth," he addressed her. He cleared his throat and then continued, "I am here on the behest and by the authority of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, under the auspices of the Minister of Magic, Mr. Cornelius Fudge. I have in my hands a warrant permitting and impelling me to search these premises for evidence of: the practice of the Dark Arts, items deemed illegal or dangerous under current British Magical law, items or documents related to the activity of Death Eaters and other supporters of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and other items or documents which may prove useful in the prosecution of one Lucius Malfoy, arrested this evening on charges of: Trespassing in a restricted section of the Ministry of Magic, attempted theft of magical items from the Department of Mysteries, the practice of the Dark Arts, use of an unforgivable curse, espionage on behalf of the enemies of the Ministry of Magic, high treason against the Ministry of Magic, and consorting or swearing allegiance to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." The little man took a very deep breath and handed Narcissa the parchment.

She didn't bother to look at it. She put on as pleasant a face as she could whilst still remaining cool and aloof. She could sense that this little Auror had never been inside of a mansion before, much less been confronted by its mistress. "Search if you like, Mr. Covington," she allowed, "but please remember that this is my home and I will expect you to conduct yourselves as gentlemen." She spoke softly, aristocratically, and in as charming a manner as she could. It was working on him, and she could tell. She squared her shoulders and took care not to look too annoyed as she called out, "Narmin! Kibbitt! Lollie! Ooble!" Four House Elves appeared in a row in front of her. Narcissa looked at each in turn as she addressed them. "These gentlemen wish to search the manor," she said, her voice still calm, still measured. "You will follow your master's wishes," she instructed, "but notwithstanding that, you will do what you can to accommodate them. And you will see to it that they respect the sanctity of our home. Do you understand?" The four of them nodded.

"Yes, Missus," Narmin answered her.

"Good," she answered, "good." She turned to the man in front of her as the four Elves dashed off in different directions. "There you are, Mr. Covington," she addressed the nervous looking intruder, "you have the full cooperation of my staff. I trust that you gentlemen will be professional and polite, and I shall wait here." She allowed her lips to curl into a tiny smile.

Covington's eyes got wide. He looked almost disappointed. Narcissa had to stifle a giggle as she wondered what they might have been warned to expect. What might they think of her at the Ministry?

Covington frowned and then turned to the others in the room, signaling them to fan out and the lot of them dashed off in the directions the House Elves had gone. Narcissa set her jaw. It was going to be a long night.