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Children of the Sun	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 12412 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
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Part Eight
“You look less delighted than I would have thought, my dear.”
“Of course I’m glad that young Mr. Potter is writing to me.” Narcissa sipped from the cup of tea she’d had the house-elves prepare in an experimental way, and then sighed. It didn’t hide the taste of the cosmetic potion. “I’m only puzzled about the reason. That he wants to help Quirinus Quirrell…”
“Help.” Lucius lounged against Hecate’s side, his hand trailing over the thick scales on her neck. “And what does he think is wrong with poor Professor Quirrell?”
“Possession.”
“By…?”
“A powerful spirit is all the letter says.” Narcissa put the parchment aside and looked at her husband over the dining table. Venus leaned against her side, the way that Lucius was leaning against Hecate, but Narcissa only stroked her head absently. She did not feel the need of comfort right now, exactly. “And I do wonder what kind of spirit could be powerful enough both to possess someone capable of teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts and to escape the Headmaster’s eye in the school.”
Lucius’s breathing quickened a moment later. “A spirit perhaps powerful enough to punish those who fight against it?”
Narcissa let her eyes flicker to her husband’s left arm, and then she nodded. “Precisely.” She stood. “Well, Mr. Potter has invited me to a private meeting, with all the assurance of someone who has the right to do that. Perhaps he is interested in picking up his political mantle after all. Perhaps this letter asking for help for Quirrell is only a ruse.”
“Rather a clever one for him to have come up with on his own.”
“Yes. Although Draco may be helping him.”
“And not telling us about it?”
Narcissa inclined her head in recognition of that likely impossibility, and then turned and walked towards the fireplace. She would Floo into one of the Hogsmeade shops that had a public hearth and make her way to the school from there.
Venus gave a low, rattling growl next to her. Narcissa stroked her neck for a moment until the snow leopard was calm.
“I know that you will defend me on the unlikely chance that this turns out to be a trap,” she told her familiar.
Venus flashed her rune-carved fangs, and followed Narcissa into the flames the moment she cast the Floo powder.
*
“I want to be there,” Draco had said.
Harry had looked at him hard. “Why?”
“Because you have no idea what my mother can do.”
“Can you defend me from anything she might do in a way that Golden can’t?”
That had made Draco wilt a little. “No,” he muttered, and he sounded resentful.
Harry had nodded, and touched his friend’s shoulder. “It’s okay. If you want to do something while I’m meeting with your mother, could you try and get some more Slytherins on our side? I know not that many of them want to connect with me since I fought Voldemort, and some are still scared because they think I’m going to control their snake or lizard familiars. You’ll talk to them for me, won’t you?”
Draco had immediately brightened and promised that he would. Harry was waiting near the edge of the grounds with Golden. He’d been to visit Hagrid, and he had a reason to be out there. And he trusted Narcissa Malfoy to come up with an excuse as to why she was visiting Hogwarts if she had to.
But she came walking towards him with no trouble, appearing so suddenly that Harry thought she must be under a charm to make it hard to see her. She was a tall woman with long pale hair and a silver snow leopard at her side. Harry nodded. She was the kind of woman Aunt Petunia would have liked to be, regal and knowing.
“Mr. Potter.” Mrs. Malfoy made a little nod to him that went almost down to the height of her shoulder, and she bent over with her hands on her knees, too. Why was she…Oh. Bowing. Harry wanted to sigh, but he had to use this right now. “I am Narcissa Malfoy. This is my familiar, Venus.”
“She’s beautiful,” Harry said, with a smile, and the snow leopard gave him what seemed like a confused glance. Probably people with golden familiars aren’t supposed to praise silver ones or something. Harry held his eyes still and nodded to Mrs. Malfoy. “Can I talk to you about Professor Quirrell?”
“Of course, Mr. Potter.” Mrs. Malfoy drew her wand, and Golden moved in front of Harry, but all she did was cast a shimmering line in the air. “Now we can be neither seen nor heard,” she explained, and sat on a rock facing the lake. “What do you know about the spirit that has possessed poor Quirinus?”
“It’s Voldemort, so we need to use a powerful ritual to get rid of it.”
Mrs. Malfoy turned paler, which Harry hadn’t known was possible, and clenched her hands in her familiar’s ruff for a minute. Then she nodded and forced her hands to open. “Very well. You—you realize that we cannot simply fight him.”
“I know. That’s why I’m talking about this ritual. But right now, it’s going to take a long time to put together because some of the ingredients are expensive. I wanted to know if you could buy some of them or gather some of them.”
Mrs. Malfoy blinked several times. Venus gave a little growl but subsided when Mrs. Malfoy touched her neck again. “That is an unusual request. What would I gain from this?”
“I would be grateful. I don’t know what that’s worth to you, but if you wanted some money or something—”
“The favor of someone who commands a golden familiar will be more than enough.”
“I don’t command Golden. We work together.”
“Golden…I had somehow expected a more sophisticated name, Mr. Potter.”
Harry snorted. “I gave it to him when I was three and he won’t let me change it. If you can convince him to be called something else, feel free.”
Mrs. Malfoy actually let her jaw fall a little, and then snapped it back up. Harry had the impression that didn’t happen to her very often. He smiled patiently, and Mrs. Malfoy inclined her head and murmured, “Golden, then. Very well. Are you intending to go into politics when you get old enough, Mr. Potter?”
“Yes,” Harry said firmly. He knew he didn’t mean that exactly the way most people around him did—the way that Cormac’s relatives were in politics in the Ministry, for instance. They meant they wanted to change minds and maybe bribe people and get some attention and power. Harry meant that he wanted to change laws and get people more equal and to stop bowing to wizards and witches just because they had golden familiars.
But for right now, there wasn’t that much difference. He would help people like Mrs. Malfoy and Cormac’s relatives until he got to the point where they couldn’t help each other anymore.
“Will helping one person help you achieve that?”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Malfoy waited. Harry just kept his silence. He knew she would probably imagine some devious plan. Draco had kept doing that until Harry corrected him. And Professor Snape liked to imagine plots, too. The difference was that he saw plots that were happening, like the way Headmaster Dumbledore refused to help poor Professor Quirrell.
“Very well. Then in exchange for favors at a future time and your assurance that your friendship with our son will continue, we will help you with this ritual.”
Harry nodded. He thought Mrs. Malfoy didn’t sound entirely happy. Maybe she didn’t think they could do it. She should think better, but Harry would show her that, not tell her that. “Thanks, Mrs. Malfoy. Anyway, this is a list of some of the ingredients that are a problem to get a hold of.” He held out a list he’d written down from the book Hermione had found the ritual in. She’d offered to write it for him, but Harry was the only one who knew which ones to take off because Professor Snape could find them.
Mrs. Malfoy took the list and looked it over. Harry saw her eyes widen, but honestly didn’t know what at. There were lots of things on there that were hard to grow or rare or semi-illegal. “All right,” she said, with a nod, and folded the paper up and put it in her pocket. She studied him for a second. “Why do you want to help Professor Quirrell so badly, Mr. Potter?”
Harry didn’t know what answer she would have expected to that, so he gave her the truth. “Because he’s in trouble.”
Mrs. Malfoy sat back with a faint sigh. “One of the first things you need to know if you go into politics is that it’s never that simple.”
“It is for me.”
Golden nudged him hard in the side. Harry reached out and put a hand on him. Yes, he had seen the way Mrs. Malfoy’s eyes lit up like she’d put fire inside them. He knew what it meant. She thought he was simple. Simple to trick, or she could make him do what she wanted. But it wasn’t true.
“We’ll take that as your motivation for now, then,” said Mrs. Malfoy, and stood up. “Who is helping you on this besides Draco?”
Harry weighed his options for a second. He wasn’t going to tell her everyone, but she would probably discard most of his friends, anyway. So he had to tell her the only adult. “Professor Snape.”
“An excellent choice.” Mrs. Malfoy reached out a hand, and only after a second did Harry realize she wanted him to shake it. The Dursleys hadn’t wanted him to shake anyone’s hand. “Well, Mr. Potter, this was a productive meeting. I will be in touch by owl about what I can find and what I cannot.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy. Please owl me if you need more details about the ritual or Professor Quirrell, too.”
She smiled at him and cast another charm that made her fade from sight, although Harry thought he could still see a little shimmer of movement when she went back up the path. Her familiar growled at Harry as she also faded from sight. Harry sighed and stood up to go back to the school.
Today was a day of meetings. He was going to meet Cormac’s relative from the Ministry department, too, and have to talk about his relatives.
Golden nudged him in the leg and then rambled ahead, sticking his tongue out to sniff for anything small and tasty.
Harry smiled. It was a good reminder that he was never alone no matter what happened.
*
“He really said that? That helping Quirrell is his only motivation?”
“Yes. And I don’t think he’s playing a game, although that familiar of his does shimmer with power. It’s his only motivation. We can easily use him as a figurehead, and teach Draco how to use him, as well.”
Lucius leaned back with a faint smile at the ceiling. Hecate was sleeping next to him now, but he reached down absently and stroked her neck. Narcissa nodded. Her husband and his familiar were powerful; she and Venus were powerful. They might not have as much favor in the public eye as someone with a golden familiar, but they had much more political standing and understanding. In the end, Harry Potter would follow them, never knowing he did so.
“Are we going to gather these materials and go against the Dark Lord?”
“If he is the spirit possessing Quirrell, then he is weak and desperate,” said Narcissa, with a shake of her head. “We can easily spin this as helping him to gain a stronger vessel if he does come back. And I wonder…the Dark Lord had a silver snake and was unwilling to compromise. If we decided that we had more of a future with a child dependent on us, who could blame us?”
Lucius sighed, a happy sound. Hecate whuffled in her sleep. Venus pressed against her. Narcissa smiled, and opened the parchment Potter had given her.
This is our chance. By the time he wakes up, if ever, he will be wrapped too deeply in our web to withdraw.
*
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Children of the Sun