The Mystery Wife

"Darling!" Narcissa beamed as she stepped through the Floo and into the exquisitely tasteful taupe and celadon livingroom she'd crafted for Draco and Severus in the new Parisian house. She kissed Draco on each of his cheeks. "You're looking thin," she bemoaned.

"Narcissa, it's only been a week," Lucius chided her as he stepped through in her wake. "He can't be looking any thinner than he was. Happy birthday, Draco. Is Severus around?"

His eyes took in the livingroom at a glance. Son, check. Wife, check. Tasteful celadon and taupe living quarters, check. Severus... not so much in evidence.

"She said she had errands she needed to run, but she'd join us tonight," said Draco.

"She's leaving us a little family time with you," Narcissa smiled. "Kind of her."

She and Lucius drifted gracefully onto the nearest sofa.

"How is it, so far?" Lucius asked before Narcissa had a chance to.

"It's going... a lot better than I thought it would," Draco replied, flinging himself into the armchair next to the sofa. "I'm a bit tired, though, I must say. I've been studying like mad. Everything's alright at home?"

"So far," Lucius nodded. "The Aurors have finally come sniffing around. Harry Potter was with them. He apparently managed to secure you a full pardon, and Severus has been exonerated. Posthumously, of course. Potter did an interview in the Daily Prophet, it was actually almost touching."

"It was a good gesture on the boy's part," Narcissa agreed.

"Even if the Prophet did turn the story into the sort of pure romantic schmaltz that would have disgusted Severus, had he read it."

"She, dear," his wife corrected him.

"Whatever," Lucius shrugged. "I will have to go through yet another trial, but this time around I might actually be acquitted without having to Imperio or bribe a soul. I was, after all, dragged out of Azkaban by the Dark Lord himself, I went unwillingly, and I continued to serve him unwillingly, because there was no choice in the matter. At worst, I might be made to serve out the remainder of the sentence for which I was already there."

"Another two years," Narcissa said quietly, biting her lip. "Dearest, are you sure..."

"Quite. Two more years in Azkaban is nothing against the family honor, and our ability to remain in England."

Draco swallowed hard. "I want to come back for the trial. My testimony would probably be discounted, all things considered-- if not actually laughed at-- but I want to be there, at least."

Lucius blinked at him in surprise. "No. Thank you, but no. The trial is likely to be an ugly thing. I don't want Narcissa there for the same reason."

"Would you rather we not be there for your sake, or for ours?" his son demanded. "I'd understand the first. It's the second I'm not going to agree with."

"Both, actually. If I'm to be torn to pieces by an angry mob, figuratively or literally, I'd rather you didn't see it."

"And I'd rather simply avoid it altogether," Narcissa argued. "Severus had the right of it, dearest. England is not the world."

"It is to me. All my stuff is there, and everyone speaks English."

Draco was surprised to have to smother a laugh. It was shaky, but it was a laugh.

"Well, I should think that your staying voluntarily to be brought to trial in the first place ought to count in your favour." He went a little pale, but continued, "And it's not as if anyone can testify that you even did anything illegal, after you were dragged out of Azkaban. They're going to have to look elsewhere for a scapegoat, if they want one that badly."

Lucius' expression was almost pitying. "Would that it were so, Draco. The bloodlust of the mob is not so easily answered. The public mood is a delicate thing, difficult to steer at the best of times. Right now, everyone is happy and relieved that the war is over, myself included. We're still in the honeymoon period, but it won't last. There will be a middling period in which escaped Death Eaters are sought out with a literal vengeance. There will be trials, there will be scapegoats, there may even be executions. Once that's past and people have had a chance to grow bored by it, little attention will be paid to the remaining trials. My best hope lies in delay."

"Or getting it done now," Draco suggested. "Before Potter's attention wanders. He seems to be in a forgiving sort of mood, at the moment."

"If I thought I could get it over with in the next two to three weeks, yes," Lucius sighed, letting his head drop onto the back of the insanely comfortable black leather sofa. "As that cannot be guaranteed, delay, prevarication and hiding in plain sight will be the order of the day. But enough of our woes. How is Severus? You said it was going much better than you thought it would?"

"Sevanna's fine," Draco replied, and shrugged as casually as he could manage. "In so far as someone adjusting to being a different gender can be. We're... actually getting along. I mean, he's-- she's-- always been a good teacher, but we're getting along even when she's not teaching me. Although all bets are off before she gets coffee in the morning. I've learned how to make good coffee, purely in self-defense."

Lucius barked a laugh. "So she's finally shagging you properly?"

"No!" Draco yelped, turning instantly red. "What part of 'I will not be taking advantage of you in such a fashion' did you forget? Because I can tell you SHE hasn't forgotten it."

"Pity," Lucius murmured. "I think she's being a perfect idiot about it, personally. This would not even be an issue if she were a pureblood, but there you are. She inherited these bizarre notions from the lower orders. She must be made to see her duty to you in this."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Oh, being shagged as a duty sounds brilliant. Hours of humilating fun. No thank you."

"Well," Narcissa murmured, "think of it not so much as a duty...it's custom, Wizarding tradition. Rather like an arranged marriage. After all, you can find happiness in an arranged marriage. Lucius and I certainly have."

Lucius nodded and laced his fingers through his wife's. "Absolutely. If Narcissa and I decided not to make love for any reason, it would be a defiance of tradition, and of the sacred vows that bind us. So is this, Draco. It denies you the chance to repay your Mistress, thus upsetting the balance of the relationship. And no son of mine need be a charity case."

Draco turned an even darker shade of red and scrunched down in his chair. "He-- she-- whatever-- doesn't want that from me. I'd be more of a charity case if you talked her into it. No. I'm going to have to find another way to repay the debt, that's all."

There was a soft answering snort from Lucius. "Thestral shit, she doesn't want you," he drawled. "Trust me, she does. She thinks she's being honorable. You are simply going to have to change her mind, make her see you as a man, not a boy."

"It really would be sensible, dear," Narcissa agreed, a little frown creasing the tender skin between her brows. "Sevanna wasn't raised to know our ways. I could talk to her if you like, woman to woman."

Draco shot upright in mingled indignation and alarm. "WHAT?! No! Bloody hell! Talk about being treated like a boy instead of a man -- my mother's going to the teacher to complain about my not being taught properly? This is not an improvement! Just leave it alone, please!"

"But someone must be able to guard your best interests," she said, her frown deepening. "Your father and I acted as your witnesses, and that, too, is traditional. Theoretically at least, it keeps abuses from cropping up in the system. Unless...I'd say if you didn't want her, we'd just let it alone, but unless I miss my guess, the attraction is a mutual one."

Half a dozen moments in the last week flashed past Draco's inner eye, mostly of the head-banging and howling sort. He buried his face in his hands, his embarrassment having reached a level of white-hot incandescence that before now he would have considered impossible.

"Merlin," he moaned. "I've done some horrible things in the last two years, I know... but was I really this bad?"

Frankly, yes, a voice in his mind answered, and it sounded suspiciously like Sevanna's.

"Of course not, darling," Narcissa pouted supportively. "And we're only trying to help. But if you want to handle it your own way, in your own time, we'll let you do that."

"And talk to Severus instead," Lucius muttered very faintly under his breath.

"Well, son, what would you like to see and do for your birthday?" Narcissa asked brightly. "Paris is a wonderful city. Has Sevanna been showing you around? Is there anything you haven't seen yet, or anything you'd like to see again?"

"We explored a bit when we first got here, but mostly I've been studying. I don't have much time before the NEWTs, you know. And I have not only the honour of the Malfoys to uphold when I go back, but probably all of Slytherin House on top of it." Draco frowned pensively at the fireplace, then sighed, shrugged, and got up. "Never mind. Sevanna says I'm doing well; I can take the day off. And I'm being a bad host. There's an eighteenth-century coffeehouse near the Louvre that we're fond of, if you'd like to start there. And then we could wander and pick out a place to have lunch. There's loads of brilliant restaurants around here."

"Sounds wonderful, dearest," Narcissa beamed at him, as innocently as if she hadn't just been trying to badger him into shagging Severus Snape.