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Narcissa Militant	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 17885 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Part Three
“It was stupid, really.”
Narcissa raised her brows in silent commentary, and Draco flushed, looking down as he rubbed at his hand. Narcissa reached out and calmly moved his fingers away from the hand so she could see it. Yes, there were bleeding words there beneath the bandage, which, like Harry’s, was soaked with Murtlap Essence.
“Telling me it’s stupid doesn’t tell me what you did to earn detention with Dolores.” Narcissa prepared tea calmly. They were in her private quarters, and no one else was due to come here this evening. She thanked all skill privately that she wasn’t a Head of House, with student due to burst in at any moment because they were dating someone, it wasn’t working out, and they weren’t intelligent enough to resort to knives or poison.
“I was talking to Greg outside class and I happened to be imitating Minister Fudge.” Draco sighed and took the teacup with a little nod of thanks. “Umbridge overheard me and gave me a detention for ‘accurate portrayal of the government.’”
Narcissa considered the situation, both what it had turned out to be and what the detention would have been for were Dolores not under the Reverse Intentions Curse, and nodded slowly. “Not as bad as it could have been.”
“Really?” Draco sat up on his chair and seemed to tremble a little.
Narcissa nodded to him again and gave him a tray of biscuits. At least he waved his wand to check for potions this time, a habit she was trying to encourage him to take more seriously. “Yes. You could have earned detention for openly saying the Dark Lord has returned.”
“But I believe Harry.”
“Yes. And he must speak it. And so must I. But that is not something I wish for you yet.”
“Why not? I’m just as brave and I can bear as much pain as he can!”
Narcissa gave him a fleeting glance, and Draco looked down and flushed. “Fine. But I bore this pain and I didn’t come crying to you.” He waved his bandaged hand in the air. “I only told Harry because he saw me and forced me to tell him.”
“I am still waiting for the explanation of why you wished to hide it.”
Draco hunched in on himself. Then he said, “I know why you didn’t want me to talk about—the Dark Lord being back. There are too many people in Slytherin who might be his supporters. And Harry’s in Gryffindor, so he doesn’t have to deal with that, and you’re a professor and the Slytherin students can’t hurt you the same way. But Mother—people are asking me anyway. They’ve been hexing me and seeing how well I can withstand the pain. I wanted to show you that I wasn’t going to whine about this when I hadn’t whined about that.”
“Your telling me the truth is not whining,” Narcissa said quietly. “And your giving me the names of the students who hexed you is not tattling.”
“But—”
“I am not going to kill the students who did that,” said Narcissa, and she frowned a little when she saw the relief on Draco’s face. Had she given the impression that she was that ruthless? Then again, she supposed Draco might have forgotten the efforts she had made to spare the Gryffindor students who had taunted Harry in his second year. It was so long ago, for the young. “I want their names for another reason.”
“What, Mother?”
“Do you want to know? Keep in mind that a few of your classmates may know Legilimency.”
“I’ll get better at Occlumency!”
Narcissa studied him and determined that was the truth this time, unlike the summer holidays, when he seemed to inherently resent doing anything except the assigned homework he must do. She nodded. “Very well. I plan to expose their parents as either Death Eaters or Death Eater sympathizers.”
Draco’s eyes got very wide. “But what if they’re only saying it to fit in? Or they don’t really believe it even though their parents do?”
Narcissa smiled at her son. A few years ago, she knew, he would have been incapable of that much nuance. Knowing and loving Harry had been good for him. “That is why I need their names. I can investigate more easily then.”
“You can even investigate what their parents say to them in private?”
“Your classmates are not the only ones who know Legilimency, Draco.”
Draco blushed as she gently drove home the point he really should have known, and nodded. “All right. I just—I don’t want anyone to be accused or have their lives ruined if it really isn’t true.”
“I will determine whether it is or is not, and their parents will suffer the appropriate consequences. There is no true reason for the children to do so, unless they are interested in following the Dark Lord or already Marked.”
“There are a few seventh-years I think might be.” Draco whispered that truth even here, in her private quarters.
“You can feel the magic around their arms?” Draco nodded, and Narcissa smiled, honestly impressed. That was a talent she had not honed as she should, with her other training and not having a strong gift for it; Draco, not concentrating on the discipline the way Harry was, could now do something she could not. “Wonderful, Draco. Please give me their names, and I will keep a special eye on them.”
Draco told her the names, and drank his tea, and ate his biscuits, and only asked his next question when he was ready to leave. “What’s going to happen to Umbridge?” he asked quietly, eyes distant, as he stood with his hand on the doorknob.
“She will be taken care of.”
Draco abruptly spun around and hugged her. Narcissa blinked and patted his back. She hadn’t realized Dolores had so unnerved him.
“Mother, you’re wonderful and terrifying,” Draco whispered, then rushed off.
It is nice to be appreciated, Narcissa thought, and went humming to her next task.
*
Harry insisted on having another detention with Dolores so that he could scout her office Narcissa disapproved, but he came straight to her for more Murtlap Essence and a few Dark spells that would ease the effects of the blood quill. And he told her what he’d discovered.
“All of those cats can tell her what I’m doing even when she’s not there,” Harry said, and translated when Narcissa stared at him. “The cats she has on the china plates hanging on the walls. I put down the quill to stretch my hand for a minute while she was in the corridor, and she came back in after I’d picked it up and scolded me for stopping.”
While Narcissa was not entirely sure that it was the cats who had told Dolores that and not something else, she had to admit she could find no way to be sure that it wasn’t. And it would make Harry take extra precautions that were all to the good.
“She could be a powerful Dark magic user if she wanted,” Harry admitted. “I saw her put up a privacy charm when someone Flooed her while I was in the detention. It’s one you mentioned, that day when I asked you about blood-fueled magic.”
“Ah, yes.” Their discussion had been about what blood magic could do other than hurt someone. Privacy charms had been something Narcissa told Harry about, but since he seemed reluctant to perform the small sacrifices needed beforehand, she doubted he would ever use it. “Could you see what she’d killed?”
“No. She must have done it too long before I got there, and hidden the body too well.”
Narcissa nodded. As long as she didn’t hear reports of any students’ pets going missing, she probably wouldn’t know what Dolores had killed, either. “Very well. When do you want to make the assault on her office?”
Harry closed his eyes and kept them closed while he carefully rubbed Murtlap Essence into his cuts. Narcissa watched the words until she was sure what they were under the bandages and the motion of Harry’s hand. I must not tell lies.
Well. Dolores would have taken that particular revenge because of being compelled to tell the truth—the objective truth, not the one she chose. Narcissa smiled. She intended to bring the woman down if Harry’s conscience floored him at the last minute.
“I’m going to wait until Halloween,” Harry decided, and opened his eyes. “No one will be upset with me if I don’t want to celebrate that day. I’ll just tell them celebrating my parents’ murder isn’t all right with me.”
Narcissa nodded. “And what equipment will you need for the assault?”
As they discussed it, a small owl fluttered through the window and straight towards her. Narcissa opened the message without stopping her part in the conversation. She recognized Sirius’s owl, and she didn’t think it was urgent.
I’ve discovered a possible means of getting rid of a Horcrux in a living being.
“Well, more urgent than I expected,” Narcissa murmured. Since there was nothing else in the letter, she put it aside and made a mental note to write back to Sirius as soon as she could.
Harry had stopped talking. Narcissa glanced at him and elevated an eyebrow. Harry shook his head. “I thought you’d reply to the letter.”
“I had to look at it. But whenever you’re talking, nothing is more important than you.”
Harry’s face lit up as if someone had set off fireworks for his birthday. Narcissa wondered, again, how his family could have been so spiteful as to be able to ignore that.
Well, Dolores will be excellent practice for them. Perhaps it’s best that they won’t be his first kills. He would never have managed to make them suffer as they deserve.
*
Narcissa sat calmly on a windowsill on the side of the Astronomy Tower, looking towards Gryffindor Tower. When she saw the small shadow coming out of a window on that Tower, she stood and reached up to the brooch at her throat. It clasped her cloak shut, and to the unobservant eye, that was all it did. It was also made of bronze and formed in the shape of a crescent moon, both a metal and a motif so common as not to be worthy of a second glance.
But when she swiveled the brooch to the left, so that the horns of the moon both pointed downwards, she could step confidently off the windowsill and float towards Harry. She felt only a slight bob from the wind. She smiled a little, pleased that it had worked. She had only previously tested that charm a short distance above the gardens of Malfoy Manor.
Harry had slung one leg over his broom, and was watching her come. He grinned at her. “You’ll let me do it?”
“I will not interfere unless it seems as if something’s beginning to go wrong,” Narcissa promised him. She kept to herself what she thought would go wrong, namely, that Harry’s tender conscience would prick him. Her statement would still be true if his magic failed or there turned out be more of a problem getting into Dolores’s quarters than he’d anticipated.
Harry nodded and closed his eyes for a minute. Narcissa recognized the marshaling of his inner forces and waited quietly. Then Harry opened his eyes and kicked off from the Tower, and Narcissa followed behind him, casting Disillusionment Charms over them both.
Harry landed quietly enough on the windowsill of Dolores’s office. Then he took out his wand and began to cast the numerous charms that were necessary to disarm the protections someone as paranoid as Dolores would probably have placed on every entrance. Narcissa floated back and tensed only once or twice, when she thought Harry was going to forget something and then he surprised her by casting it perfectly.
When Harry paused, Narcissa tilted her head. Then she smiled as she saw his strategy. He hadn’t confided everything to her.
She nodded, and Harry stopped looking back at her and smashed the window.
The tinkle of glass pieces on the room’s floor was nothing compared to the sudden scream that echoed through the corridors. It would sound even louder in Dolores’s ears than it did in this section of the castle, Narcissa knew. And it would bring her running from the Halloween feast.
Harry could have set a trap that would kill her later, and Narcissa would have urged that in some cases, but the woman had hurt Draco. Harry cast a Hardening Charm on his cloak and hands and squeezed through the broken window without being cut, dropping to the floor. Then he straightened up and drew out his wand.
His smallness of size was something for which Narcissa would always curse the Dursleys and their withholding of his food, but on the other hand, if not for that, he wouldn’t have fit through the window, and he wouldn’t have been so lithe and deadly and prone to make his enemies underestimate him. At the moment, he hardly looked threatening, a skinny fifteen-year-old holding a polished holly wand.
Only Narcissa—and Draco—saw him as not skinny, but slender. And waiting was different from merely standing.
Dolores burst through the door, panting and more red than pink. She saw Harry and the broken window and slid to a stop, staring. Harry stared back. His eyes were beginning to flare with the power he was calling. Narcissa was the one who had taught him the tactics to call up his magic and hold it in instead of releasing it right away.
“You are here,” Dolores said, and she must have just intended surprise, not hatred, because the Reverse Intentions spell didn’t activate.
Harry nodded a little. Now Narcissa would be surprised if someone didn’t notice the subtle green glow coming from his eyes. But Dolores wasn’t in the mood to notice such things at the moment. She might never be in the mood to attribute power to her opponent, Narcissa thought.
She stalked slowly forwards, her stubby wand swinging in her hand. “You are going to pay for telling the truth, Harry Potter.” Not even the unwanted truth she was speaking seemed to distress her.
Harry only looked up at her. Finally, Dolores jerked to a stop. Perhaps it was the remote, placid expression on Harry’s face.
“What are you playing at, Potter?”
“You have harmed me,” Harry said, and his words were ritual in sound. Narcissa smiled slowly. She was so proud of him. “You have harmed the one I love, the one I claim as mine. You will harm more people if left unchecked. I am here to make you pay for that.”
Dolores sneered. “You could do that.” Her face went pinker this time, and she drummed a hand on her desk. “I meant to say that!”
“Of course,” Harry said. Narcissa worried for a moment that the interruption to the ritual would disrupt the power Harry was gathering, but from the way he stood a little straighter and smiled, that hadn’t happened. “I am here to execute you.”
The magic burst forth and poured from him. The room was lit with a shifting green light that, for a moment, Narcissa could only compare to the Killing Curse. Then she shook her head impatiently. No, of course not. This light was too vivid, too bright. It looked like trees burning with low-intensity fire.
“Execute? Little boy—”
They were the last words she spoke.
The green magic sprang out, tracing lines that consisted of the broken glass on the floor—Narcissa hadn’t even recognized the pattern Harry had made sure to break the window in—the quills on the desk, and the stones on the floor. Narcissa approved. The entrance Harry had forced, the instruments that had tortured him and Draco in symbolic form, the ground of the place that Harry belonged to and Dolores was an intruder in.
The whole room was flaring now, and Narcissa felt the blowback as another wind even outside where she hovered. Dolores’s mouth was dropping open. She looked as if she would begin to scream or hysterically sob in seconds.
But the magic rose up around her, seized her head and her heels at the same moment, and crushed her.
Dolores did scream then, but the sounds were so faint as she began to die that Narcissa didn’t think anyone would come to investigate them. She did cast a Silencing Charm at the room’s door, because that was the only spell she could manage without looking away from the execution.
Dolores became a smaller and smaller package, muscle and flesh forced to compact size in a tiny, floating ball. She still glowed brilliant pink, but that might be her cardigan more than anything else, Narcissa thought, detached enough to admire Harry’s handiwork. By the time the green magic flickered and faded, Dolores was a glittering ball, sharp-edged where the broken bones shone through, and most definitely dead.
Harry took a huge, whooping breath and began to topple over. Narcissa immediately cast a modified Summoning Charm that pulled him out of Dolores’s office and back to his broom. The last thing they needed was him leaving some trace that an Auror could pick up.
Harry leaned against her as Narcissa floated down onto the broom herself and steered it back towards Gryffindor Tower. “That was hard,” he whispered, and was quiet, and then he said, “Was it worth it?”
“You are the only one who can answer that question,” Narcissa told him, bowing her head so her hair whispered around him.
Harry said nothing until Narcissa had deposited him on his bed, there to await the return of his friends and the “news” of Dolores’s death. Then he reached out and caught her hand. Narcissa tilted her head curiously towards him.
“It was,” Harry said, and no more.
- 13
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- 15
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Narcissa Militant