Rage of Mothers
“Do you know why blood contracts are rarely used anymore?” Narcissa smiles coolly from her cup of tea.
Once, when he was younger, Draco overheard his grandfather call his mother the ‘Ice Queen’, and he hadn’t understood why. His mother is a breath of fresh air. Charming, delicate, warm and polite to almost everyone unless she has a reason not to be. She was always kind and loving to him, even the few times she had sent terror through his blood, she always ended with a hug. Sitting across from her and the other two pureblooded mothers put a new perspective on that nickname.
“Since you answered so intelligently before, I believe you can understand why they’re so useless now.”
Mrs. Katherine Parkinson smiles almost as icily as his mother, but she doesn’t quite have all the malice behind it for intimidation. Belle Zabini, however, would make a fine interrogator.
“As much as I’m enjoying the look on their faces, I think they’ll only be lost until we tell them, Narcissa.”
Her smile doesn’t budge an inch, if anything it widens. “I think you’re right. Do you agree Katherine?”
Mrs. Parkinson seems to have a fire behind her eyes. “Why yes I do. Will you do the honors?”
“I’d be delighted.” Narcissa puts down her tea like they’re merely catching up and not three seconds away from murdering their children. “You see, darlings, the issue with many binding bloodspells is in their names: blood. It’s a fickle thing, really. After all, we are the blood and flesh that created you, so by binding your blood, you’re really binding our- oh look! Draco has clued in! Can you tell us what this means, love?”
Draco stiffens in his seat. He hasn’t quite had time to process just how badly he and his friends messed up this round, or the amount of trouble they were in, but one thing was becoming scarily clear to him. Narcissa was right. Her blood coursed through him, he was a part of her for nearly a year, her blood was so intermingled with his and every person with a brain knows how much flesh was shared between a mother and a child. Father provided sperm and magic, but it was the mother’s body that built babies from within….constructed them with their own blood. And since blood contracts needed a willing person to sign with blood borrowed from their mother…
“When we signed the contract, you knew because of our blood ties.”
Narcissa’s smile is only a little crazed, “Correct! You’ve always been so clever, dear, and since we’ve deduced that the mothers in the room know about their children’s little contract, don’t you think it would be smart to tell us why the contract was produced in the first place?”
“I think you might have to be a little more forward than that.” Belle offers, and for a moment Draco can’t figure out what she’s trying to say. And then his mother’s grin turns wolfish.
“You’re right, Belle. Allow me to rephrase. Why did the three of you enter a blood contract?”
He feels the familiar pull of Veritaserum right before the astonishment that his mother- his own pure and loving mother- used it on him. LuLu didn’t even warn him, the traitor. Luckily he’s been learning how to deal with the potion for a while now.
Everything would be fine, except Pansy and Blaise have no training, and his mother is deceivingly good at brewing.
“It’s because we were worried about Draco!”
Fuck. Three piercing eyes glance at him while he glares at Pansy who gasps at the words that have left her mouth. Blaise keeps his hands over his lips, eyes wide and a little scandalized. LuLu just blinks as though this should’ve happened ages ago.
This is not going to end well for him.
“And why were you worried about my son?”
Pansy bites her lips but still is forced to say, “Because he’s-” Blaise snaps a hand over her mouth, meaning his is useless.
At least he has the sense to not talk about Draco being a spy, because instead his mouth opens and says something equally as bad.
“Because he’s male audiam!”
Thank Merlin they put the Latin clause in there, it would be useful if their mothers weren’t fluent in ten languages.
Narcissa’s eyes narrow, Belle and Katheriene look as though the plush white chairs they’re sitting in have been ripped from underneath them. It’s understandable, only a crazy person would dare to lay a hand on a Malfoy.
“And who in their right minds would think of laying a finger on my son?”
As if by some twisted fate, Lucius makes the mistake of walking into the room with a dazzling smile. “Darling! Sisily told me we had guests, I do apologize for being absent upon your arrival, the Ministry can be quite demanding.”
Narcissa smiles at her husband, and then sees the way Blaise is trying to rip his lips off, the way Pansy is near tears with her eyes cast wide on Lucius, the way Draco shrinks away from the man striding past him. She sees LuLu rise up on her back legs in Draco’s lap, eyes and snarl trained on long blonde hair.
“Darling?” Lucius asks, right around the time the witches by Narcissa’s side seem to clue in.
To her credit, Narcissa doesn’t even flinch. Her smile returns with full force. Draco has no clue what she’s planning until she stands to greet him and picks up Draco’s tea cup.
The one with Veritaserum in it.
“Sorry, dearest, we were just talking about how wonderful the tea I had imported from Italy is. Won’t you try some? I’d hate for you to miss out on something so delicious.”
Lucius doesn’t suspect a thing. Draco feels an odd sense of pride at how easily and perfect his mother’s lie came. She truly is brilliant. His father takes the cup without suspecting a thing, one large swig later and he’s frowning.
“A little too spicy for my tastes.”
Narcissa takes a step back, a smile still unreadable on her face. “We were beginning a new topic when you came in, can I inquire your opinions on it? It’s rather delicate, yet extremely alarming.”
Draco would snort if it wouldn’t give her away.
“If it troubles you I would love to ease your mind.”
Her back is turned just enough for Lucius not to see the way her eyes glimmer into daggers. The smile on her face seems more like a threat than the angry magic that’s starting to radiate off of her.
“Perfect.” Venom seeps into her voice. “We can start with a simple yes or no question.”
Narcissa turns on her heel to give Lucius the full force of her anger. Nothing betrays her until she speaks and the glass candle on the mantle behind his father shatters from her rage.
“Have you been abusing my son?”
Not even the other mothers dare to breathe, they can’t really. Narcissa’s magic flows out from her in violent waves that clog up their throats even though they’re aimed at his father’s trembling form.
He tries to lie at first, Draco sees the cool expressionless stone make its way onto his father’s face. And then the idiot blurts out “Yes.” and Draco has the pleasure of seeing a flurry of emotions crack that mask he’s grown so used to.
Confusion at first, then understanding when his eyes land on the tea. Panic follows those two before fear takes over.
That might have something to do with the way Narcissa’s magic has turned from violent to down right murderous.
“As pleasant as this visit has been, might I suggest you all take your leave now?”
Her kind voice leaves no room for arguments. Pansy and Blaise shoot him sympathetic glances and try to protest against their mothers dragging them from the room. The door shuts behind them with a deafening click.
Narcissa raises her wand, “Imperio.”
“Mother!”
She doesn’t spare him a glance, fully focused on his father. “You will tell me why you harmed our child- my child.”
Luicus’s eyes fade into an eerie calm, like following her voice and doing whatever she said would make him the happiest man on the planet. Draco half expects some long winded excuse about how important being a Death Eater is.
And then Lucius opens his mouth and says, “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know? Or you won’t tell me?”
His father looks wounded, like the mere thought of defying the woman before him was worthy of death. “Of course not! I would never keep things from my dearest flower, but I do not know why I have harmed my little dragon. Much does not make sense, please forgive me if I have disappointed you.”
Narcissa studies him for a moment, and then, as if she had never cared about him in the first place, she says “You will go down to the dungeons and lock yourself in chains within the third room.”
Draco can’t hide his gasp but Lucius doesn’t even notice him. “Mother! You-he-”
“Floo Severus over and wait in your room.” Her icy grey eyes freeze him in place, “I am most displeased this has been kept from me. We will speak of this later.”
He turns and retreats before she changes her mind.
—————
Draco cannot sleep.
Granted he wasn’t exactly trying to, but how the hell did anyone expect him to sleep when his mother was alone with Lucius Malfoy in the dungeons? Sure, he knows how dangerous Narcissa is. He knows what really fertilizes their flower beds, how she casts Unforgivables the second someone she cares for is compromised, how, of all the people in their family, she was both the most dangerous and cunning.
But she was still alone with the bastard that tortured him and then pretended like he had no clue he’d done it.
Lucius is strong, even if he is crazy. He could overtake her and do to her what he’d done to Draco over break. Excuse him if he doesn’t fancy the idea of his mother being beaten.
His imagination is, however, very fond of it and kindly supplies him with vivid images of what could be happening.
So no, Draco cannot sleep, he has no intention of ever trying to, and he will continue to pace around his room despite the nervous glances he gets from the house elves that keep coming to check on him.
And no, he has not been counting the hours since he was sent to his bedroom, so he cannot pinpoint that it’s been seven hours, twenty four minutes, and thirty three seconds when there’s a knock on his door.
So maybe that last part was a lie. Not that it matters to Draco who sprints to open the door, pulling his mother close only to realize it’s Severus he’s captured in his arms.
“I’m pleased to see you too, but I didn’t think you’d be so….overjoyed.”
Draco pulls away with a grimace that matches his godfather’s. “If you don’t speak of it I won’t.”
“Deal. Now put on some shoes and come with me. I think your mother will hex us all if you get so much as a shiver when you walk.”
Bad. Her investigations had gone bad, then.
Draco does as instructed and follows Severus like a dutiful soldier marching off to war. Their footsteps echo like some sort of fucked up drums playing them to their death. They pause at the dungeon doors and even though Draco knows the paintings are watching, he still takes Severus’s hand.
“I’m sorry to take you down here, I wish there was another way. Trust me when I say your mother isn’t too fond of the idea either.”
He doesn’t miss the way Severus grips onto him tightly. “What does she know?”
“She knows what he did to you,” Is the quiet reply, “She didn’t say much else, other than you needing to be here. I assume she wants to save her breath and tell us at the same time.”
Draco frowns, “Let’s get on with it then.”
It’s not as scary as it is in his nightmares, but maybe that’s because the monster that usually lurks in the darkness is tied up, or maybe because he’s not alone this time. Footsteps don’t echo in his dreams.
She’s sitting in a chair that’s definitely never seen the dungeons before, Sisily beside her and urging her to drink her tea. Tears stream down her face and when she sees him she stands so quickly Sisily almost drops the fine china.
Draco meets his mother halfway to happily melt in her arms.
“My little dragon….”
Her left hand cards through his hair, the right pulling him close into the familiar and calming lavender smell that’s been soothing him for as long as he can remember. Draco pulls back just an inch so she can cup his face. He reaches up to brush away the tears.
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
Narcissa shakes her head, “No, darling, I have a tight hold over his mind right now. I’ve put him to sleep.”
“You’re too kind….I don’t think I’d have that type of self control.”
He’s fully prepared to launch a Crucio at the first tuff of blonde hair he sees, and then his mother laughs. It’s a little breathless and has just a bit of a crazed tone, but it’s still laughter.
“I truly thought about torturing him for hurting you…..but I had to know.”
Draco raises an eyebrow that she smooths down. Narcissa steps away from him.
Lucius is asleep in the corner. He must still have his mind controlled if he’s on the dingy stone floor in that suit. Though Draco only has a few seconds to focus on his pathetic excuse of a father when he notices the family pensive right next to him. It swirls with silvers and blacks, and it’s exactly where his mother leads him.
“I’m sorry, so very sorry to ask you to relive it, but I must.”
Severus steps up next to them, “May I go with him-”
“I ask that you do. I’d rather die than let him go through this alone.”
Her hand is firm in his, grounding and kind. It’s ripped away from him before either of them can refuse to let go.
“When you’re back,” She takes his face in her hands once again, “We’ll take your friends and go to our summer home in Brazil. Just us and whoever you want. We can lay on the beach, go shopping, or even stay inside and play those games from your childhood. Whatever you want, darling.”
Draco leans into her touch, “What about Paris? You have duties there.”
“You will always come before anything else. Your father and my duties included.”
Severus clears his throat and takes Draco’s hand. “The sooner this is over, the sooner you are free to indulge.”
“You don’t disapprove?”
Severus looks at him with such kind eyes he can’t believe it’s the same professor that once called Longbottom’s work a ‘disgrace to the abominable piss presented as potions’. “If anyone deserves a break, I’d say it’s you.”
There’s a moment that he looks between them. His mother, kind and calm, tears threatening to spill from her perfect eyes, her chestnut hair still in the bun his father once told her was his favorite. His professor, still clad in black but not the robes that make him seem untouchable, rather a sweater Draco just knows is softer than LuLu’s fur. Both of them are nothing like other people know them to be.
He feels privileged to know them as something more. Something like a secret that draws them closer than friends. That feeling of family that extends to Pansy and Blaise as well.
Draco nods, kissing his mother once on her cheek, and then pulling Severus with him towards the darkening water.