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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
- 18
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Part Eight
The owl fluttered around her bed-curtains and shrieked in her ear. Narcissa sat up, extending one hand so that she could find her wand. Agitated owls sometimes attacked the humans they were meant to deliver the letters to.
But this one only landed on her arm and extended a foot, hooting softly. Narcissa removed the letter and frowned at the writing, which she didn’t recognize. But the signature at the bottom, when she unfolded it, was Dawlish’s.
Minister Fudge is gathering up a special task force to go after Harry Potter. He says they’ll arrive at Hogwarts at midnight.
It was twenty minutes to midnight when Narcissa flicked her wand and lit the crystal globe next to her bed. She narrowed her eyes for a moment. Then she stood and began dressing in the appropriate battle-robes, not hurrying. She would not allow news like this to hurry her.
Into the pockets of the robes went several vials of important potions, a few of the devices that she used in her career as an assassin, and something special that she had saved up to use on Aurors. A rope draped across her shoulder. Narcissa tucked her wand into its holster against her side and paused for a moment. But nothing else occurred to her as something she needed.
She slid silently out the window of her quarters and used a rope to climb most of the way to Gryffindor Tower. She ended up going through a lower window, picking her way through the bedroom filled with snoring first-year boys, and taking her place next to the portrait hole. There was a small chance that the Aurors would try to come up the outside of the Tower to Harry’s window instead, but Narcissa had set alarms there when she first arrived to be the Astronomy professor.
Then she waited.
*
At five minutes after midnight, she heard the tread of footsteps outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. Narcissa silently coiled the rope around her arm and cast a spell that made the stones waver and glow and part like water to her sight.
The task force was six Aurors and a small woman in the robes of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Narcissa suspected she was there to oversee the Aurors and lend an air of legitimacy to the enterprise.
Narcissa wanted to sneer. But she had no time for such nonsense, so she kept watching through the spell as the small woman bustled around the Aurors, telling them in a low voice that they were only to attack Harry Potter, no one else.
“The Minister does not want families in good standing to have the right to complain about how their children are treated,” she said in a stern voice, and paused to stare into the face of one Auror who might be as intelligent as Goyle on a good day. “Understand?”
“Yes, Madam Comet,” said the Auror in a tone of long-suffering.
Comet. Narcissa had heard of her, as a sort of assistant to Amelia Bones. She wanted to shake her head at the waste of time and talent. Miranda Comet had potential, connections, and allies. That she would choose to follow the Minister in such a foolish task suggested that perhaps Madam Bones had made one of her rare mistakes.
It would not keep Narcissa from killing her.
She watched as the Aurors lined up opposite the portrait hole. The Fat Lady had long since fled from her picture, a sensible thing to have done (and which made Narcissa wonder if, in life, she had actually been Sorted into some House other than Gryffindor). The Aurors aimed their wands and braced themselves, counting down under their breaths. They would hit the wall with a combined blast of spells when they reached ten, Narcissa was sure.
Narcissa struck before then, spilling a potion at her feet and casting a complex illusion charm on the rope she carried and swung towards the wall, as well as a Sonorus Charm on her voice and another spell that would prevent noise from traveling up the stairs of the common room.
“WHO DARES DISTURB THE SANCTITY OF MY HOUSE?”
The Aurors lost their concentration and gaped like fools as Narcissa’s illusion stepped through the wall. It wasn’t hard to imitate the hard features and harsh blue eyes of Godric Gryffindor, famous from a painting (not a portrait) that had hung on the wall of every Headmaster. And if her disguised voice didn’t sound like his in life, well, no one knew what Gryffindor’s voice had sounded like in life. It was enough to see him stepping towards the Aurors and looming menacingly over them, as large as a Cerberus.
Madam Comet’s mouth dropped open, and she looked as though she didn’t know how to speak anymore. Narcissa’s illusion turned and glared at several of the Aurors, while Narcissa moved the rope carefully in several directions, controlling the way the giant Gryffindor cocked his head and folded his arms.
“We—this can’t be real,” blurted one of the Aurors.
“Of course it isn’t real.” Comet appeared to have recovered herself. She cast a Dispelling Charm in front of herself, powerful enough that the illusion would have wavered in most cases. But Narcissa had used the variation that focused on a physical object, and with that object on the other side of a wall, Comet had no chance of separating it from the illusion.
“It looks real,” said the Auror who Comet had been particularly scolding before.
“I am real.” Narcissa let her own voice fall so that it was no longer pure thunder where it emerged from the illusion’s mouth, and made the giant scowl at the Aurors. “I heard that you were coming here to destroy one of my Gryffindors. Is that true?” The last word shook a bit of dust down from the stones of the ceiling.
“Not destroy. Certainly not.” Madam Comet appeared to have recovered herself faster than any of the Aurors, perhaps because she was the only woman in the corridor. She smoothed down her official robes once and then took a step forwards and curtsied to the giant Gryffindor. Narcissa thought, from her face, that she still didn’t believe the illusion, but had chosen to go along with it for now. “Only arrest someone who is a danger to the Ministry and all our world, um, sir.”
“You need to bring six Aurors to arrest a student?”
Comet’s eyes narrowed a little, but she maintained the smooth mask. “This is an exceptionally dangerous student, sir. If you knew the full story, I think that even you would vote for making sure he’s removed from the school and loses the ability to influence other students.”
“Tell me who it is.”
Comet grimaced, but did so. “His name is Harry Potter, and I promise that he’s as much a disgrace to Gryffindor House as he is to every other—”
“The Harry Potter that fended off the man who claims to be the last descendant of Slytherin?” Narcissa laughed, a deep booming sound, and made the illusion fling his arms wide and shake his head. “What makes you think that I would ever believe evil of him? He’s carrying the tradition of fighting evil and Slytherin House forwards into the future! One of very few students in my House who’s done so, in fact! You’ll have to come up with a better story than that.”
Comet gripped her wand tighter. This time, Narcissa felt the magic building up, rather than heard it. Comet was casting the spell nonverbally, and Narcissa was sure that it was the version of the charm that would dispel even an illusion tied to an object.
Too bad for her that the rope was still on the other side of a wall, which blocked the crawling foxfire green light of the charm easily.
Comet took a step backwards, her hand trembling on the wand before she appeared to notice and shoved her wand deep into a robe pocket. “You can’t allow a dangerous student to remain in the school, sir. No matter what he’s done against a man who might be the last descendant of Slytherin.”
“Tell me how he’s dangerous.” Narcissa had to admit she enjoyed the looks of confusion on the Aurors’ faces as they glanced back and forth between the illusion and Comet. They might not believe it, either, but they would be wondering why Comet couldn’t make the illusion simply vanish if it was a fake. “What else has he done besides fight in a war that the lot of you shoved on his shoulders too young?”
Comet squawked for a second, and then got herself under control with a frankly impressive gasp. “He’s rebelled against the Ministry, sir! Made insinuations that the Minister cannot allow to stand!”
“It sounds to me as though the Ministry has been lying to itself about the return of Tom Riddle long enough. If someone is forcing you to wake up and realize that you’ve been wrong, including that precious Minister of yours…”
“Sir! Please do not speak about Minister Fudge that way!”
“Why would I care who’s Minister, especially when they have a name like Fudge?” Narcissa made the illusion give Comet a look of such withering contempt that she actually did step back and blink, looking more than slightly unnerved. “What I care is that he’s acting against a student in my school, in my House, who’s only fifteen years old. A fifteen-year-old needs six Aurors to arrest him?”
“If you understood how dangerous the extent of his political influence is, then you would agree with us.”
“But I do know a lot about the situation, and I do not agree with you. You will take your Aurors from the school at once, madam. And not bring them back. Tell your Minister Fudge that he should battle adults.”
“I don’t know who you really are. But I know you’re not Godric Gryffindor. And I don’t have to obey any order that an enemy of the Ministry gives.”
This time, the dispelling charm was powerful enough that it really would have succeeded if the wall wasn’t in the way. But still Narcissa’s illusion remained, and there were sounds in the distance that she had been waiting for. She smiled and pulled back her control a little.
“I think you might be able to have a reception of your own, as befits enemies of my school.” And Narcissa made the illusion vanish and took the Sonorus Charm off her own throat, but maintained the spell that let her see through the wall’s stones into the corridor. She wouldn’t miss this for anything.
“What is the meaning of this, Madam Comet?”
Oh, good, Minerva recognizes her. Narcissa made herself comfortable against the wall and watched as Comet tensed for a second before turning around and inclining her head. The Aurors shuffled and looked a second away from casting Disillusionment Charms on themselves in the vain hope of blending in with the stone.
“We are here on a mission from Minister Fudge to make the school safe. We are here to arrest Harry Potter, in other words. We can’t imagine who thought it was a good idea to leave him here this long, but he’s had enough time to hurt and corrupt the other children.”
“You came at midnight? And without informing me of the need to arrest a fifth-year student?” Minerva’s voice was low enough that even Comet’s expression faltered for a second, before she sighed and shook her head.
“It’s common knowledge that his foster mother teaches in the school, Headmistress. If we’d given warning, then she might have helped him escape. And the last thing we want is to chase a fugitive.”
“You’re still legally required to give notice so that I can admit you to the school and you’re not uninvited guests.” Minerva took a step forwards as if she was going to shield the portrait hole from them. “And you’re required to notify the student’s family members when they’re underage.”
“This is hardly an ordinary situation, Headmistress McGonagall—”
“It seems to me an extraordinarily ordinary one. One motivated by fear and jealousy and all the other things that have haunted Mr. Potter since he became a student at this school.”
Narcissa gave a thin smile. It seemed that Minerva had finally awakened to the fact that this was part of an ongoing pattern of persecution, not something Narcissa had made up to make Harry feel “special.”
“Minister Fudge is not jealous of Mr. Potter. How dare you say that.”
“He doesn’t have to be the jealous one to send Aurors into the school. Only the fearful one. Leave, now, before I throw you out. Apply to visit at a normal time in the daylight, the way other Aurors arresting someone actually dangerous would do.”
“We’re here now. You might as well let us arrest the boy. The charge is fear-mongering and sedition against the Ministry—”
“And what of all the other students?”
“Other students?”
Minerva folded her arms and nodded. “The ones who also saw You-Know-Who appear at the gates of the school and Dark Marks melting off fellow students’ arms. What of me? I haven’t gone around proclaiming to the paper at every turn that You-Know-Who is back, but then again, neither has Mr. Potter. Are you going to arrest everyone who says something the Minister doesn’t like?”
Comet glanced over her shoulder, but Narcissa already knew no support would be coming from that direction. She had chosen Aurors to accompany her whose qualifications were loyalty and brawn, not intelligence.
Comet turned back and frowned. “If you’re going to insist on us following outdated procedure that no one needs when there are enemies of the state in the school, Headmistress—”
“We disagree both about the presence of enemies here and the date of the methods,” said Minerva, with a sweet smile Narcissa hadn’t known she had in her. “But we do agree on you following them.”
Comet remained still enough for a moment that Narcissa tensed for the attack. And then she sighed and nodded slowly enough that it almost masked her putting her wand away. “If that’s what we have to do for you to listen to the Minister and follow the law, Headmistress.”
“I was listening to the Ministry and following the law long before you came here,” said Minerva. She shifted in a way that, not subtly, blocked the portrait hole from the sight of the Aurors. “I think you should leave now.”
The Aurors trailed away down the corridor. Comet followed, not without looking at Minerva again and again. Minerva never moved.
When the intruders had passed out of sight, Minerva did bow her head and sigh. Then she turned towards the portrait hole.
Narcissa made herself quietly vanish with a Disillusionment Charm. Minerva opened the portrait hole and climbed past it to head towards the stairs. Narcissa followed. After what she’d just witnessed, she thought that Minerva wouldn’t make trouble for Harry, but she did want to be sure.
Minerva did indeed approach the fifth-year boys’ bedroom, but spent a moment knocking and calling. Narcissa smiled at the sound of shuffling and muffled shrieks as the boys evidently dived out of sight, or wrapped themselves in blankets, or perhaps hid objects that weren’t supposed to be in sight. Then Longbottom’s weak voice said, “Come in, Headmistress.”’
Narcissa leaned in behind Minerva. The boys were sitting up in their beds, staring at her. Harry’s eyes focused on the slight shimmer of movement that Narcissa gave on purpose, so he would know she was there and watching. He smiled, nodded, and then focused on Minerva again.
“There were Ministry Aurors here who intended to arrest Harry,” said Minerva quietly, and then waited until their gasps—and some undignified swearing from Weasley—had died away. “I want to know if any of you sensed anything or made a motion to defend yourselves. They seem to have been held here by an apparition of Gryffindor. Did you create it?”
Heads shook. Longbottom looked as if he wanted to faint on the spot for being accused of anything. Harry was the one who said, “No, Headmistress. Really. We’ve all been up here and asleep the whole time.”
Minerva looked at all of them and sighed. “I could ask many questions and I’m afraid that I would find you were telling the truth.” She shook her head. “I want you to be cautious. If anyone from the Ministry comes to question you, don’t answer anything. Come and get me right away. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Headmistress.” Some of the boys were slower about saying it than others. Minerva looked them in the eye until she had it from everyone, even Weasley.
She paused before she left, and added, “I won’t let them take you, Harry. Minister Fudge has lost his mind, thinking he can send a strike force of Aurors into Hogwarts and kidnap you from under my nose. I promise I won’t let them touch you.”
Harry gave her a smile as weak as Longbottom’s. Narcissa knew that had far more to do with his lack of trust in Minerva than any actual weakness. “I understand. Thank you.”
Minerva sighed one more time, and then turned and went downstairs. Narcissa wished she could give Harry a hug, but aside from putting all the boys to sleep at once—too sudden for there not to be suspicion later—there was no way to do it. She caused one more shimmer of movement, and saw Harry’s smile strengthen.
Minerva walked down the stairs and almost to the portrait hole. Then she stopped, took a deep breath, and turned around.
“Mrs. Malfoy,” she said. “We should talk.”
And she turned and walked outside again before Narcissa could respond.
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Narcissa Militant