The Family Name

The Family Name

By: Nvr2Blonde

"Nice kitten, nice kitten."

Narcissa listened to her son's divine voice and singsong mantra. She followed the sound, winding her way through the mansion, her high heels clicking on the marble floors.

Click, click.

"Nice kitten, nice kitten."

Click, click.

Wait a minute, she thought. We don't have a cat.

"Nice kitten, nice kitten."

She continued her hunt, and finally found him sitting outside on the step leading to the garden. He was facing away from her, and, with the bright sun in her eyes, all she could see were the glints radiating from his babyish blond hair and his arm, which was moving in a petting motion.

"Nice kitten, nice kitten."

"Draco?" She approached him slowly. "What do you have, darling?"

His arm stopped moving and he turned his head to glance back at her. "Look, Mummy! I've a kitten!"

Lucius really must stop spoiling him so. A kitten! He knows full well I hate cats. She slowly approached the boy, to see the new pet.

"Draco."

"Yes, Mummy! Look!"

She froze. "Draco. That is not a kitten." She stepped back slowly, unsure what to do.

"It's not, Mummy?"

"No, darling. That is not a kitten. That is an acromantula." If there was one thing she hated more than cats, it was spiders. And exactly where and how had he obtained a small acromantula?

"An acra-what? No, Mummy. It's a kitten. It's all soft and furry."

"Draco. Please release that...thing this instant!" She reached for her wand.

"No Mummy! I want a pet! I want this kitten." His expression of loving contentment was rapidly changing. His gray eyes began to gleam, his mouth was forming a wily smile, and he looked her dead in the eye. She just knew what was coming.

Draco launched into The Scream. "FATHER! FATHER!" The spider crawled out of his arms and headed for the bushes.

Oh no, Draco, Narcissa thought. I could have handled this.

Pop! Lucius appeared and turned toward Draco and Narcissa with a swirl of his deep green cloak.

"Draco? What's wrong?" Lucius looked at his son, and then at Narcissa. "Narcissa! Explain. Why was he screaming? Is he hurt?" Lucius bent to pick up Draco and held him in his arms, looking him over as he waited for the details from his wife. Draco snuggled into Lucius, and looked innocently at his mother.

"He was holding an acromantula. He thought it was a kitten. I told him to put it down, and he began calling for you." Glancing sideways at the shrubbery, she folded her elegant arms and awaited her husband's response.

"Draco. Did you think that spider was a kitten? How utterly charming. Would you like a real kitten, for your very own?" Lucius was practically swooning with adoration for his son and heir. He reached up and brushed the fringe out of the little boy's eyes and smiled.

"Yes, Father. I want a black kitten. Today, please." When Draco asked his father for something, it was never really a request. More of a demand. Narcissa strongly suspected that Draco hadn't really believed the spider was a kitten in the first place. He could be very manipulative. They were so much alike, Lucius and Draco. They shared such a strong bond that she often felt like an outsider.

Lucius carried Draco inside. Narcissa took a seat in the garden, and thought about how completely inadequate she felt as a wife and mother.

She loved her husband, very much, but she felt terribly insecure around him. He was eleven years her senior, amazingly self-assured, magisterial and captivating. She'd been a tiny, shy fifteen-year-old when he'd swooped in like an icy bat out of hell, completely overwhelming her. He hadn't asked for her hand in marriage, he had demanded it. Told her she was privileged to have the opportunity. Her sister Bellatrix had been absolutely furious with jealousy. Her other sister Andromeda, the rebel, had been appalled that their baby sister would fall for a man from such an overtly prejudiced family, and told her she was far too young to marry. But marry him is exactly what Narcissa did, and their son Draco had been born nine months to the day.

Throughout the pregnancy, Narcissa had fervently hoped that she would give birth to a girl. She knew Lucius wanted an heir. She suspected that if they had a boy for their first child, he wouldn't want more children. And of course, along had come Draco.

From the very day of his birth Narcissa had very little influence over him, because her husband left no room for it. Draco had Black blood, too, but it was never, ever mentioned. He was a Malfoy. He would be reared a Malfoy. She hadn't been given a choice in his name, his nanny, or even in his clothing.

Narcissa had, however, bravely gone against popular opinion in her circle and decided to nurse her baby, mostly because it was something Lucius couldn't do. He told her she'd nursed him too long-Draco had been a year old when Lucius had finally insisted she wean him. How she regretted the passing of his infancy. Nursing was one of the few ways she'd felt she had any bond with him. She remembered the hours she'd spent rocking her beautiful baby as he gazed up at her with his dreamy, pale eyes.

And then he'd grown too old for her rocking, and she'd lost even that small bit of enjoyment. Now he was six, and so totally his father's son. Every day, he became more like Lucius, and every day, Narcissa felt pushed further away.

***

The evening meal--always a long, drawn out affair. Draco dined in his room with his nanny. Lucius and Narcissa ate together in the formal dining room.

"Lucius?" Narcissa put down her fork and watched her husband at the other end of the table.

He just kept eating, occasionally glancing around the room at various portraits of the many previous generations of Malfoy.

"Lucius?" She tried again, raising her voice slightly. No response.

"Lucius MalFOY!" she shouted. She knew he hated it when people deigned to stress the wrong syllable of their name. Blasphemy.

Startled, he put down his goblet and looked at her with suspicion.

Deciding it would be ridiculous to attempt to converse in shouting tones, Narcissa picked up her plate and carried it down the room to sit closer. Given her long, extremely narrow skirt and the distance covered, this took a while. Finally she was seated and leaned toward him.

"Lucius. We need to talk."

Slowly, his eyes turned toward her. "This isn't about our relationship, is it?" he asked, cautiously.

"No," she said with a melancholy tone. "I haven't forgotten the rules. 'We love each other. It is pointless to examine details. We will not bandy minutiae.' No, it's about Draco." She knew that would get his attention.

"Yes, what about Draco? Isn't he happy with his kitten? I suppose I could give him another," he said.

A feeling of irritation flashed through her. He could be so shallow. This was going to be difficult, but given that her nerves were constantly twisted in knots of late, she knew she had to press on.

"Remember before he was born? You promised me that if we had a son, you wouldn't try to overly influence him to be like you." Narcissa gave up any pretense of eating and stared at Lucius.

"Did I? Well, perhaps. But, that was before we knew he was...Draco." One side of his mouth turned up slightly in his smiling way of dismissing what he didn't want to talk about.

"But he's my child too, Lucius. I feel left out. I'm not comfortable with some things. I don't want him to grow up too fast, I don't want him to be..." she decided not to follow that train of thought. "He's already trying spells with your wands! And he won't listen to me. He does what he wants. He thinks he's better than all of the other children. He tells them so!"

"And how is this related to me influencing him?" Lucius asked. "And there is not enough rosemary on this trout. If I've said it once, I've said it one-hundred times! More rosemary!"

Unbelievable. She knew he was trying to change the subject.

"Please remember that he's only a child. He needs..." she struggled to find the right way to approach things. "I mean, he shouldn't be doing magic! I know he conjured that spider somehow. You should tell him he needs to wait until he's in school! And the broom, Lucius. He's got no business on a broom at his age." It was all coming out now.

Lucius took a deep breath. She knew what he was thinking. 'There is no turning back now. Narcissa is on a tear, and the only thing that will end it is to just let her continue. She is very young. Best to let her get it out.' He had voiced such thoughts to her numerous times. He reached back and pulled the grosgrain tie from his hair, and rested his head on the back of the chair, apparently feeling he might as well settle in.

"I think," she said warily, "I think he's been using dark magic." She had his full attention now.

"Dark magic. Really," he said, with a smirk of pride.

"I found something in his closet."

"Narcissa," Lucius said impatiently. "Please get to the point. You know I always spend the evening with Draco, and it's getting late."

"I found an animal skeleton," she said quietly. "I don't know where it could have come from."

"An animal skeleton? What did it look like?"

"Well, it was small. Sort of, long and thin. I don't know. It might have been a rabbit. No, no. More like a weasel, or maybe...a ferret." She was beginning to feel a bit silly. Lucius was such a domineering person. She often got the impression that he thought she was full of childish nonsense.

"So Draco has a skeleton in his closet," he summarized, "and you think this means I've been overly influencing him."

"No," she replied, "that's not what I mean. But where did he get it? Did he trap something in there alive and let it die? Or did he kill it? I don't know! But Lucius, he obviously looks up to you, admires you, wants to be just like you, and...well he knows that you're a very powerful wizard, and I-"

He interrupted. "Narcissa. I will talk to Draco. But I will say again, as I have said since the day he was born, he is a Malfoy. He will be reared a Malfoy. I regret that his admiration of me is causing you distress. But you cannot, will not," he added forcefully, "change what he is." He got up from the table. "He does love you, as do I," he said in parting, cupping her face with his hand. He bent to kiss her. "That will never change."

She knew he had no intention of talking to Draco about her concerns. Sighing deeply, she watched him depart the dining room, and wondered if this was how the rest of her life was going to be. Sitting in discontent.

***

Later that night, Narcissa made her way to the nursery. She always waited until Draco had been put to bed, Lucius had left him, and the nanny was dismissed. Then, it was her quiet time with her son.

She walked to the armoire, opened it and bent to reach the back of the lowest shelf. She found the toy, clutched it to her stomach, and walked silently to the bed.

He was awake and watching her. He was always awake when she got there. His eyes shone in the moonlight, the long sweeping lashes casting a shadow on his translucent skin. These late night encounters were a special thing they shared, and it was something that Draco, for some miraculous reason, had never mentioned to his father. For that she was very thankful.

"Mummy." That was all he ever said when she visited.

"Darling," she said sweetly. "I have Sal. Here, put him under the covers, keep him warm."

He reached out and took the soft toy snake. He would never know that Andromeda had sent it to him when he was a baby. Lucius had confiscated it and deemed it an 'infernal Muggle toy', which Narcissa felt mostly had to do with Lucius's feelings about Andromeda's Muggle-born husband, and their possible hidden message in having sent his son a snake. Narcissa had pleaded with Lucius, asking to keep it for herself, promising she would not give it to Draco. Amazingly, he'd given it to her. She'd been defiantly putting it to bed with their baby every night since, coming back to the nursery early each morning to place it safely back out of sight in the armoire. At age three, Draco had named the toy Salazar. Narcissa had definitely not been impressed. Even at that young age, he had been all too familiar with the story of the proud Salazar Slytherin and his pureblood theory. It was something she felt Lucius spent entirely too much time droning on about.

Draco hugged the snake in tightly next to him. It didn't actually look much like a snake anymore, having been squeezed, smashed and dribbled on so much that little of its fuzzy covering remained. He'd also apparently spent a good deal of time chewing on the eyes, which were now just misshapen black lumps.

Narcissa settled in next to him, encircled him in her arms, and stroked his forehead. He wrapped a sweet hand around a curl from her long hair and cuddled it next to his face. She found it hard to comprehend why being this close to her son always made her feel so lonely. She began to sing to him. It was always the same song, a very old Christmas melody. She'd heard it when she was a child and thought it haunting and very beautiful. A secret, inexplicable part of her was proud to sing the son of Lucius Malfoy to sleep every night with a Muggle hymn.

Veni, veni Emanuel
Captivum solve Israel
Qui gemit in exilio,
Privatus Dei Filio.

Gaude, gaude, Emanuel
Nascetur pro te, Israel.

Her softly lilting voice floated through the room in a mesmerizing way. As she sang, she thought about Draco's future. Despite everything that was good about being a Malfoy, it could be, as she had quickly learned, a difficult burden to bear. All of the freedom the name and the wealth could buy came with a terrible set of rules, and, for Draco, a dark destiny. The one thing that she was able to take solace in was knowing that as difficult as he could be to live with, Lucius did love them, in his own, occasionally strange way, and would always make sure they were taken care of.

Her song came to an end as Draco fell asleep. She stayed and watched him for a long time, and then slowly loosened his hand from her hair and rose from the bed, careful not to wake him. She reached into the pocket of her gown, withdrew a tiny wrapped piece of chocolate, and placed it on the bed next to his pillow, as she always did. She left the room, closing the heavy door quietly behind her.

It was the middle of the night, and Lucius was nowhere to be found. She had searched through the mansion, starting with their bedchamber and ending with his study and the library. He spent a lot of time away from home. She never asked him where he went or what he was doing. Her sister Bellatrix had been put in Azkaban when Draco was only a year old, and Lucius had very nearly been imprisoned himself. What should have been a happy time in her life had, in fact, been heartbreaking and terrifying. She didn't like to think about it too much. Although no mention was ever made of it, she knew in her heart that Lucius was still spending a great deal of his time involved in activities of a most abhorrent nature.

Lighting a fire in the library and selecting a book, she sat down to read and wait for her husband to return. Bellatrix, she thought. What happened to you? We were so close as children. And then Rodolphus came into your life, and look what happened. You're sitting in Azkaban. Bellatrix was sitting and rotting in Azkaban, along with the man who led her astray. And here I sit, Narcissa pondered, married to Lucius Malfoy.

***

She awoke, vaguely aware of a noise. Keeping her eyes closed, she basked in the warmth of a sunbeam on her face. And then the sun was blocked and the warmth was gone. She opened her eyes slightly.

Lucius.

"Narcissa." Lucius was towering over her as she sat, still curled in the chair by the fire, which she noticed was now made up of tiny ash-covered coals.

I'm still in the chair. It's morning.

"Draco and I would be delighted if you would join us for breakfast," he said, reaching down to take the book still held loosely in her hand. Snapping it shut, he quickly turned and left for the Morning Room.

Breakfast. Draco. Morning. Her thoughts were still disjointed as she unfolded her legs and stood, stretching the kinks out of her back. And then her heart nearly stopped.

Draco. Morning. Sal, she remembered with a jolt. I overslept and didn't get to the nursery. That thought went through her head over and over as she rushed upstairs to change her gown (deliberately selecting Lucius's favorite, green) and tried make herself presentable. Making her way down to breakfast, she prayed to all of the Gods she'd ever heard of that Lucius hadn't been the one to wake Draco up. Please. Please. Let the nanny have been there first.

Taking her seat at the round, lavishly appointed table, she was momentarily distracted from her panic when she looked at Draco, who was beyond adorable this morning. Wearing a pale blue cashmere jumper, his cheeks flushed with pink, he was positively stuffing his mouth with an enormous slice of bacon. She started to smile, but then glanced at Lucius, who was watching her watch Draco. She knew he was waiting for her to correct their son. It was a test. Another examination pulled from the ancient series, Conduct Befitting a Malfoy.

"Draco, darling," she said sweetly, "please remember your manners. It's not polite to shove food into your mouth. Even if it is your favorite." Draco responded to the admonishment by promptly using his palm to push the rest of the slice in and clamping his mouth shut.

Lucius continued to watch Narcissa. He never ate in the morning, only having a large glass of water with ice. Probably to keep his blood nicely cold, she thought. She picked at a piece of toast. Her stomach was churning, and watching Draco with the bacon wasn't helping. He was eating properly now, but she had to stop him after the seventh slice.

"Draco, you'll make yourself ill." She moved the platter away from him and placed a slice of orange on his plate.

"I hate oranges, Mummy!" Draco said.

"It's good for you," she replied. "Eat it."

"Narcissa." Lucius spoke. "He doesn't like oranges any more than I do. Draco, as you are finished, you may be excused."

Draco placed his napkin on the table and rose to leave. As he did, he quickly reached over, snatched two more slices of bacon, and then rushed from the room.

Out of the corner of her eye, Narcissa could see Lucius grinning as he watched Draco leave. And then his gaze turned toward her. The smile was gone. She looked down at her plate, focusing on the pattern. Focus. Focus.

Thump.

Sal was laying across her plate.

Oh, no. No. She couldn't breathe and was unable to look at Lucius. She slowly lifted her eyes and stared directly ahead. She was angry at herself for oversleeping and felt an awful sense of shame at betraying her husband, who loved her and had given her everything. She was frightened, and worried over Draco not having Sal to sleep with. She felt so...humiliated. Trying to breathe, trying not to shake, she waited for Lucius to speak.

He made her wait. After all, counted among his many fascinating titles was that of Master of Manipulation. He just sat and let her wallow in her misery. Let her wallow for a good long while. The silence was so thick it was nearly palpable. She wondered if she should speak first. She wasn't sure she had the ability to form words just now.

"Luc-" she began.

"Narcissa." Lucius cut her off instantly, as she expected he would. A classic maneuver of domination.

"Yes, Lucius." She was barely audible.

In the softly menacing way he had, he said "Might you have any idea, how this," his eyes shifted quickly down to the toy and then back up to hers, "found its way into my son's bed?" He added to her extreme discomfort by punctuating the words with a raised eyebrow and his diplomatically calculating smile, the one he always used at those especially exasperating times when it seemed as though what he really wanted to do was take someone's head off.

"Yes. I gave it to him." There was no point in lying now. "He sleeps with it. He named it Salazar," she added, hoping in some ridiculous way the name might pacify him. She felt herself beginning to break down. She took a few gulping breaths and tried not to cry, but her eyes filled with tears. She glanced at Lucius, who looked...who looks, she thought, almost as if he's about to break down himself. Lucius sat completely still, not looking at her, no longer employing the Malfoy Stare. Instead, his eyes darted around the room, never settling in one spot. His demeanor appeared to be cracking, ever so slightly.

"Narcissa," he said with a drawl, "it is important that you trust me. It is, by the same token, important that I be able to trust you." He finally looked at her. His face, remarkably, showed a hint of anguish. As soon as their eyes met, the tears rolled from hers.

"I'm sorry, Lucius."

Taking his wand, he softly hissed, "Evanesco." Salazar was gone.

"Lucius," she said softly, "Draco has slept every night with his snake. What am I going to tell him? How am I going to explain?" She watched her husband give a tiny, nearly imperceptible flinch at the thought.

"You should have thought about that long ago." His eyes narrowed at her.

"It's only a toy, Lucius. What's the harm in it? Does it really matter where it came from?"As she asked the question, he sat back in the chair and looked at her with some disbelief. "Yes, my sister sent it," she continued, anger rising. "Yes, she married a Muggle-born." She spat out the despised words. "But she's my family, Lucius. My family. Black family blood counts for something. Black blood is pure blood," she stated emphatically. "Draco has Black family blood."

"I am well aware, Narcissa, that Black blood is pure blood. I married you." He stood up and began pacing the room. After a bit, he spun around and looked at her dead-on with frosty, gleaming eyes. "But let us not forget, that not everything Black is worthy of admiration. True, Bellatrix is in Azkaban as a result of her service to the Dark Lord and his worthy agenda. Her husband and his brother, the same. Noble, indeed. But as for-"

Sirius. He was going to mention Sirius and The Betrayal of the Family Name. Again. This was all straying too far off the mark.

"You're right," she held up a slender, perfectly manicured hand to stop him, "and he sits in Azkaban as well."

Lucius placed his hands on the table, leaning over. "Our son is a Malfoy. He will not play with a Muggle toy, of any sort, regardless of its origin."

"Lucius? What about when Draco starts school? He's going to have to be around half-bloods, and Muggle-born students. What then?"

He resumed pacing. "He'll know how to handle himself. I have no doubt about that." A vague answer that did nothing to calm her.

"I do worry about that." She stood and walked over to her husband, stopping him by placing a hand on his arm. "I worry about him all the time," she confided. "There are so few pureblood families left. We are a dying breed, Lucius."

"We need not lower ourselves to accept half-bloods into our circle so that Draco can learn to play nicely. Really, Narcissa." Lucius gently took her hand in his. "When the time comes, he will manage quite well, I assure you." Lucius brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "I will see you tonight," he said, and then Disapparated.

***

Narcissa spent the rest of her miserably begun day with Peony Parkinson and her daughter Pansy, who had come to the Manor for a visit. The women talked and watched their children play together.

"Don't you think they are simply a perfect match?" Peony simpered. She'd been trying to lay the groundwork to betroth her daughter to Draco from the day the baby was born. It was too bad, really. Narcissa didn't care all that much for Peony. She wasn't terribly intelligent, and her child was a spoiled brat and a fair bit unattractive, as well. However, she was a pureblood, and given the slim pickings in that arena as of late, it did make a difference. And, hopefully, she might outgrow her plain appearance. No doubt, somehow, Pansy would indeed end up a Malfoy. But I don't have to like it, Narcissa thought.

"Pansy's dress is lovely, Peony," she said. "But do you think pink is the best colour for her, with her warm skin tone?" Truthfully, it looked positively dreadful. Some people can't even buy fashion sense.

"Pansy adores pink! It's her favorite colour! Do you know, I tried to buy her something blue, and she simply sat down in Madam Malkin's and cried. My poor baby," she went on, "positively cried her heart out." Peony's voice always sounded as if her sinuses were clogged.

Oh, save me. Narcissa took a deep breath and gave an ingratiating smile.

"Narcissa, what a lovely gown. I just adore-"

She's about to start sucking up. I hate that. Does she think I can't tell what she's up to? Narcissa cut her off.

"Peony. Have you done something with your hair?" Her companion looked, well...different.

"Yes! Do you like it? I feel it gives me a more, oh, I don't know. Regal appearance?" Peony preened and patted her newly highlighted hair and seemed to be awaiting lavish compliments.

Is that supposed to be blonde?

"I liked it better before," Narcissa said truthfully.

"Yes! I thought so too. I was actually planning on changing it back tonight. I feel it makes me appear, well, a bit...harsh."

"But now that you mention it," Narcissa continued, unable to help herself, "it does brighten up your eyes. Somewhat."

"Yes! You know, I did notice that. Actually I was thinking of keeping it, with a few minor adjustments, of course."

"Of course."

The women now sat in silence. There really wasn't much to talk about with Peony Parkinson. They'd covered fashion and beauty, in a manner of speaking. If Peony held true to her usual pattern, the next subject would be Lucius.

"Narcissa, how is your husband? I hear he's now on the Board of Governors at Hogwarts."

Narcissa only smiled in reply. Pansy might get my son, Peony, but you had better back off my husband.

"I believe it's time to eat. Shall we go inside?" Narcissa ignored Peony's Lucius question and rose from the table, motioning to the children. "Draco, darling. Pansy. Come now!" She led the group inside.

As they dined, Narcissa felt Peony's eyes boring into her. The woman watched her constantly. It seemed as though she probably wouldn't know how to breathe without guidance, and it was beginning to grate.

Draco, apparently, was none too happy with their luncheon guests himself. Looking at Narcissa, he mouthed quietly, "Mummy, is that food going to fall out?" Draco indicated Pansy with a quick eye movement and tiny lift of his chin. Narcissa looked. The little girl had her open mouth packed full of fruit salad and was nearly sloshing as she chewed. Draco turned and stared at Pansy with a frown, his expressive eyebrows knit in disgust. Eventually she swallowed, releasing Draco from his surveillance. Raising his eyebrows and turning back toward his mother, he rolled his eyes slightly.

Narcissa was astonished and amused at the same time. Yes, Draco was just so...Malfoy.

***

As she made her way to the nursery that night, Narcissa wondered what she was going to tell Draco. It would be his first time without Sal, as far as he would remember, and he was very attached to the toy. It wasn't going to be easy.

"Mummy."

"Darling," Narcissa replied, as she bypassed the armoire and went straight to his bedside. "I need to tell you something." She slid into the bed and cuddled next to him. Adjusting the blanket, she was astonished to find...Salazar.

"Draco! Where did you get this?" she asked, stunned. "Your father took this away today. I was going to tell you."

He didn't reply right away. His sleepy eyes narrowed slightly, and then he raised an eyebrow. It seemed he was pondering how best to say whatever it was he wanted to tell her.

"I know, Mummy," he whispered. "I...well, I..." he hesitated.

"Draco, please. Tell me. Did he give it back to you?"

"No, Mummy. I Summoned it," he said slowly.

Narcissa felt a jolt of disbelief go through her body. Accio? How could Draco have Summoned Salazar? How could he have performed such a spell without training? Even experienced wizards had difficulty retrieving a vanished object without having at least a vague idea of its location. Her little boy had apparently performed powerful magic, indeed.

"Did you know where it was?" she asked. Unbelievable.

"No. I just...thought hard about it. And then...I said Accio Sal, and he was here." Draco seemed to think this was nothing special. In fact, it seemed he was more concerned with being scolded than anything else.

"Draco, darling. How did you know to do that? Who taught you Accio? How did you know where Salazar was? I'm not angry. I just want to understand."

He was quiet for a moment, apparently considering his response. She wondered if other children were so introspective when it came to dealing with people. He always seemed to be sizing up a situation and evaluating the best course of action. All of this at six years of age.

"Father told me he took it away. It made me so angry! Why can't I have Sal, Mummy?" Draco had avoided answering her question. His face reflected confusion and anger, and he was beginning to pout.

"Your father believes that you're getting too big for such a toy, Draco," Narcissa said. She hoped to steer the conversation far away from talk of anything Muggle.

"That's what he told me. I don't care. Sometimes I just don't care what he says."

Oh, no. Narcissa leaned back against the headboard. This was worrisome. It was difficult enough to handle the similar natures of her husband and son. If they should come to odds with each other, the result could be a lifetime of unpleasantness. She'd witnessed enough of it in the Black family.

"I know he can be very demanding, Draco. He wants only the best for you--for both of us. And, he believes very strongly in family, and the family name. You must believe as well, Draco. Family is the most important thing there is. You must listen to what your father says about our name, and hold true to all of it. You must never, ever betray your family or the name of Malfoy."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing herself saying. But in her heart, as much as she wanted her own influence in things, and as much as she wished it wasn't true, the name of Malfoy would determine the entire course of her son's life. He would never be able to escape it. She loved Draco more than anything, and if being true to that love meant she had to shelve some of her own beliefs to somehow ease his way, she would.

"I think it would be best, darling, if we don't mention Sal to your father." That's an understatement. I'll take it to my grave.

"I don't care if he knows. I don't care. If he takes him away again, I'll just Summon him back. Mummy?"

"Yes?"

"What if...what if, I'm not a good Malfoy? Will Father stop loving me?"

Narcissa's heart broke. Draco had just hit upon the very thing that frightened her the most. If he were to get to school, and not be top of his class. If he were to fail to understand, believe, and adhere to the notion that purebloods were above all others. If Draco were to, for some reason, befriend half-bloods. The thought chilled her to the bone, because, in truth, she really didn't know how Lucius would handle it. And any of the things she'd just thought of would, in his opinion, be major scars upon the name of Malfoy.

"I think that you will be the most honourable Malfoy ever, Draco."

Draco seemed to accept her words, owing partially to his fatigue. It had been a long day. He nodded, closed his eyes, cuddled his 'infernal Muggle toy', and drifted off to sleep.