RENEGADE

The Aurors came at night. Bartemius Crouch Senior led the charge.

They never saw it coming.

Nobody knocked, or flooed forward to announce their presence, the evidence she would later learn strong enough to grant them a warrant. And that they had been smart enough to know any prior warning would have meant Lucius would never have been caught.

Thankfully they apparated straight to the South side of the house, where the master bedroom and Lord and Lady’s quarters were. Draco didn’t need for a stranger to appear at the foot of his bed, a stranger with a ministry badge, a wand and an eagerness to rid of the Malfoys.

Her hair had been freshly washed and she had finished rolling them into curls, Lucius had been mentioning how he needed his own cut. That perhaps they could go try the newest restaurant in Diagon tomorrow, how glad she was Draco was home, that all that nasty Hogwarts business was over.

Kissing gently she had rested against his chest, reading through her latest book on blood runes he had bought her the week before. Cassandra Parkinson was expecting an engagement, there was a new scandal with the Travers heir and the youngest Burke was in a spot of trouble with the Artefacts office for using a love potion on a muggle. Lucius had added his opinion with each piece of trivial gossip, she always enjoyed him doing that.

Only when she mentioned that the first of the seven summer balls would be held by the Rosiers did they come bursting in.

She half expected to be annoyed at Lucius for being called into work but when Auror Moody walked through the door a strange gut feeling had appeared in the pit in her stomach. The truth could only be something significantly worse. 

”Excuse me.” She had said calmly, pulling her pale silk gown around herself at their entrance. “May I ask what you are doing here.”

“Mrs Malfoy, I think it best—” a dark haired younger man she recognised from her time at Hogwarts, perhaps a Shacklebolt or a Shafiq began speaking.

“Cissa.” Lucius spoke up, his face still and ghostly white. “I will deal with this.”

“Whatever you say can and will be used against you in a Ministry Court—” The younger man beside Moody attempted to continue.

“Lucius Malfoy, you are under arrest.” Moody interrupted, spitting each word out of his ugly mouth, as it began turning up in a delighted snarl.

“Whatever for—”

“Eleven counts of blackmail, one count of reckless endangerment and assault. Possession of a restricted or dangerous dark artefact, illegal under law 151 and attempted murder.”

“What on Salazar are you speaking about, Lucius was cleared of his charges. A court found the imperius curse had been used?”

“That was then, this is now. Fraid a Runespoor doesn’t change its scales, Mr Malfoys has been a very naughty boy!” Moody smirked looking one second off a cackle escaping his mouth.

“Enough.” Bartemius commanded. Bringing forward at least a dozen additional Aurors around him, filling up the bedroom. “Will you do this the easy way or the difficult one?”

“The fun way you mean—” she heard Moody say under his breath.

She heard no screams of complaint from Lucius. He met her eyes, his own brimming with guilt. Whatever they accused him of he had done it and by the sounds of it he had run out of chances. Her mind shuttered around her and a tidal wave of despair hit all at once.

Standing as calmly as possible she stood out of the way. She would not be charged for obstruction of justice. A long time ago when Draco had been first born she had warned him that she would stand by him as his wife as long as it would not bring their son harm. For almost two decades they had been a team. Always honest. Forever loyal. That would cease tonight. Whatever crime he had done she did not care, only that he had lied and been stupid enough to be caught. 

“We will need you to come down to the ministry, my apologies ma’am.” The same dark haired man as before said, even sounding somewhat apologetic.

Nodding her dissent she grabbed his arm, turning away from Lucius. She would protect the most important thing they had, their son. For all she loved him he was now on his own, Lucius had left their deal and now she would have to leave him. Salazar, it was shaping up to be a long night.

———

Narcissa had never felt betrayal quite like when she caught her sister in the upstairs broom cupboard at night when going back to get her potions book.

Worse a boy had been with her, something a third year Narcissa had found fairly scandalous. What was unacceptable however was who he had been. A mudblood. A Hufflepuff. Unworthy.

“Cissa you can’t tell anyone.” Andy had whispered desperately, tears almost falling down her face, gripping her cheeks so tightly the nails had cut against her skin. It was guilt. All it did was sting. She smelt blood but that could also have been coming from the force at which she’d bitten down her tongue so as not scream out.

“It’s alright,” the scum had murmured, stroking Andy's hair with dirty hands.

He had crouched down to speak next to her and smiled, his teeth slightly crooked and his mouth no doubt made for lies like the rest of his kind.

“I’m sorry you had to see this but it’s important you don’t say anything yet.”

“Cissa.” Her sister had pleaded. A thousand words and excuses and promises shared through a glance.

“Never again.” Narcissa had uttered desperate, like a promise not even strong enough to convince herself. 

“I understand.” She had answered head down, eyes shut. Narcissa too wished she could forget this encounter.

Instead she nodded and kept the secret as if it were her own shame gnawing at her very core. Carried it around like an old friend, a stain of dishonour or a dead weight. Andromeda never explained and Narcissa never asked. She made sure to never look at the light haired man across the hall who her sister had looked at so adoringly. Most of all she pretended it never happened.

Soon it will all end, she told herself in reassurance. It didn’t matter. She would not have to worry. 

Andy would marry Edwin Fawley. It would never come up again. Perhaps as a private joke, probably not even then.

It would be forgotten, a badly thought out experimental adolescent adventure. Something she could convince herself was some absurd childish nightmare.

Andy ran off at odd times, she followed her to the library desperate to talk. To even distract her. But she had enough friends and did not need her baby sister to keep her company it seemed. Narcissa did not do a good enough job to hide how much it hurt. 

When they spoke, it was around the gaping chasm that was the shared knowledge of that night. And when Bella at family dinner that Christmas had cornered them and demanded to know what was wrong, she had ignored her tears and did not buy her pitiful excuses. But she had stood beside her sister and did not say what she had seen.

Confident it had been an uniformed mistake. Every day of the next year passed with the sun rising and her faith being restored that she was one step closer to the wedding, to it all being in the past.

It was a growing plant of poison and it infected her every thought. Even her friends had caught on to something strange. Medea even having given up trying to guess what was troubling her though spent a good amount of time keeping her company.

None of it mattered though. The following year after keeping it close to her chest, a mere five months before the ceremony she had announced it at Christmas. Denying her duty and leaving her family for that boy. 

Please, please, please. Narcissa had prayed to Merlín himself. To make her sister forget him. That this could have never happened. But he had not listened and now everything was ruined.

She loved him, she lied.

She would not marry, be with any other, she promised.

Bellatrix screamed and swore murder. Narcissa stood silently already sensing defeat.

I want you to accept him, Andy had bargained.

Tell me I am still your sister and daughter, she continued to beg.

A choice. Their parents said, minds as set as Narcissa’s own. A last chance given. A shaky desperate attempt to save their family.

A boy or the House of Black.

She chose wrong.

Narcissa didn’t chase after her this time. The secret was gone but the shame only grew larger. It threatened to swallow her whole.

———

“How long will I have to wait,” Narcissa asked the man whose name she had recently found out was indeed Shacklebolt. A man who had been in her classes, Runes, Arithmacy and Potions. A Hufflepuff. Pleasant enough but too difficult to gain answers or a read from. Honourable. Lucius had certainly never bribed or bought him out. Well as far as she knew. Unfortunately for her.

”I’m not sure.” He replied sitting calmly opposite. An expression of pity on his face she loathed.

To distract herself she attempted to remember any secrets she had seen or heard to use as leverage against him, though none came to mind. He was intelligent, had an acceptable family name and obviously worked at the ministry. Was he a societal disgrace, why else had he never come to a Malfoy ball? 

“Are you married?” She inquired.

“Uh, no.” He answered slowly in his confusion.

“Why?” Narcissa wondered aloud, most men were happy to talk, sometimes too much she had found. And yet he sat still and thoughtfully, not screaming for answers or pacing. He had seemed respected among the other Aurors but perhaps that was not the case. 

“I uh—” he paused as if searching for something to say.

“Have not yet found the right woman?” Narcissa guessed. She felt sorry for him, there were many eligible young women he could have been set up with had he ever attended.

“Well you could say it like that I suppose.” He took a long sip of his water cup.

“Ah, you are one of those homosexuals. How modern.” She deducted, happy to have finally figured him out. He had never seemed interested in her at school, she should have guessed this years ago. 

“Pardon.” He sputtered out, a little water falling from his mouth in shock almost choking him.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I personally have no problem with it.” How could she, though perhaps that could be seen as her own folly of youth.

“Ah, that’s…good. But I myself am not gay.” The Auror she had forgotten the first name of explained while wiping his mouth with a Shacklebolt engraved handkerchief.

“Mmm.” She did not care either way, but annoyingly his name seemed to escape her. “Could you pass the file please?”

He did so quickly. Helpful.

Kingsley was written on the front. Ah yes, how had she forgotten. Lucius had mentioned him once, but she could not remember why. 

Looking at him, she thought again how he had yet to take a wife. He was attractive with a dark kind set of eyes that could not be mistaken as soft instead seemed clearly intelligent. Kingsley, she repeated again in her head letting it roll and rot around. 

“We took Arithmancy together did we not?”

“Yes we did.” Shacklebolt said shortly looking up at the clock, she was running out of time.

“Your name numerologically it relates to a three.” Narcissa blurted out unladylike to fill the silence. “It’s a pure number, signifying success, intuition and stability.”

“I remember.”

“Mine was the same.” She mumbled, unsure why. Perhaps it was the late night or the fact she was still in her lacy nightgown sat in a cold ministry chair in an empty room opposite a man she had spent very little time with. Knew next to nothing about. Worse, she worried whether it was nerves, that the sick feeling in her stomach relating to Lucius and the sentence he may have or his crimes. She did not think of Draco, still hopefully asleep as it was still only just past midnight. It was a new day it seemed,  one in which she would have to tell her son, who looked up to his father as if he were Merlin reborn, that he was likely in a Ministry holding cell. The world seemed turned on its axis. Everything seemed to be spiralling faster and faster.

“Pardon?”

“My name, it reduces to three too.” Narcissa ignored the searing look Shacklebolt gave her. She had been top of the class, for some reason she hoped he remembered that. Maybe then he would not treat her like she was some sort of victim, she would have preferred he thought her guilty and evil than weak.  

“Number three, it's ruled by Jupiter if I remember correctly.” Shacklebolt tilted his head as if trying to fit her into his mind. “I used to sit behind you, you always got every question right.”

“It was my favourite subject.” She said simply.

“Our teacher thought you were a genius.” Shacklebolt caught her eye and the genuineness she saw reflected back scared some small part of her. “Though that seemed to be the case in all the classes we shared.”

“Oh, well. Thank you.”

“I thought you would do a Masters. After Hogwarts.” He inquired matter of factly.

“No. I mean…I got married.”

Awkwardness fell again between them at the reminder of her husband. The truth was she had gotten into the prestigious l’Oracle University in Paris, she could have studied experimental potions, blood runes, looked deeper into the numerological makeup of magic through arithmancy. Publishing papers and researching in academia. But Lucius Malfoy, a man she had always admired, a good match, had brought forward a betrothal. She would never have been able to have persuaded her parents to go to France to study after that, it was not the done thing for a woman of her station. Her duty was to uphold the House of Black and fulfil the task she had been bred for as a Lady and wife. It was not so much a choice but more an expectation, to protect the family and the blood. Truthfully some parts excited her, she enjoyed her part as a hostess and her prominent role in society, the balls and ministry galas that were honored with her attendance. Even having a husband that she had grown to love, that had let her navigate through life in politics and the public eye. 

Perhaps if she had gone to France her life may not have been plagued by war and grief. Or sisters that disappointed her and friends that became distant and a husband whose actions had placed her in this current predicament. But she would not have had her son, the most important thing in her life so perhaps it didn't matter. She had no time for what ifs, this was what she had left and she would protect it for as long as air still lingered in her lungs and her heart kept beating. 

“I saw it in the papers.”

“I am sure you could have seen it in person. You would have gotten an invitation alongside your family.”

“Mmm, most probably. Anyway, I was not in the country.”

“Oh.”

“Yes I went travelling…after Hogwarts.”

“How…bohemian.”

“It was certainly enlightening.” Shacklebolt stared back again. “And then there was the war.”

“Yes. The war.” 

A silence stretched between them. She dreaded to think where this conversation could go if they began looking deeper into their war time activities. 

“Lady Malfoy.”

“Call me Narcissa.” She interrupted, this was no time for formalities and the Malfoy name was useless here. Let her be defined as a girl he once knew rather than the wife of a suspect. 

“Narcissa.” Shacklebolt corrected himself. “I need to know now of any awareness you had of your husband's actions, they are not in doubt, I promise you this is not like before he is going down. But in order to fully keep the integrity of this case I need to hear everything you know.”

“What is it you need?” 

“Your full cooperation. Otherwise the first problem will be the charges that get brought up against him may well extend to you. Specifically if you knew anything and never informed the ministry.”

“Under Law 63B married couples don’t have to disclose private dealings.” She corrected him, Narcisa knew her rights. It was always best to learn an enemies weapon. 

“I never knew you had studied the law.” He scrutinised gazing at her searchingly. “But that’s irrelevant as in section C. It clearly outlines that this becomes void when charges of criminal offences such as violent crimes like attempted murder he has been accused of and dishonesty offences like the bribery and destruction of property. That non disclosure then becomes criminal negligence and prosecutable as prohibiting justice. Which then can escalate into harsher sentences particularly in cases such as these.” 

“Are you threatening me, Auror Shacklebolt.” Narcissa uttered cooly, having seen enough ego filled men in her day who played their cards the same way.

“No. This is not a threat.” He said, shaking his head in earnest before looking down at her with a serious expression. “It’s a warning.” 

“How bad is it?” Narcissa could not meet his eye. “Are we going as far as a large fine or…”

She could say the name of the place. Which tore the soul of her sister, a prison they kept evil and mad. Somewhere you went to and never returned. As simple as being put down.

Her mouth shut firmly and her body went still. It meant you were as good as dead. Draco would be devastated. It would break his heart. Some small piece of her that said this was not true shattered. 

“Forget Lucius.” Auror Shacklebolt interjected. “It’s bad enough they might take you there with him.”

No. No. Narcissa could handle it if they were simply sentencing her and Lucius. Salazar, they had done enough in their life to deserve it. But it would destroy Draco, he would be as good as dead. Orphaned and alone. She would break the world up completely before she ever let that happen. Dementors be damned. The Ministry. They would run and she would kill anything that stopped her.

But that was a drastic, last measure. For now she would play her part to save herself from the fallout of Lucius’s sentence and protect her son. 

“I’d like a lawyer.”

Auror Shacklebolt's face blanched looking slightly pale with a small bead of sweat threatening to appear. 

“That’s the second problem. Barty Crouch he wishes to make an example of your husband and Minister Fudge the close relationship he had to Lucius means he can’t step in or it becomes political suicide.” 

Cowards she thought, feeding her husband to the wolves after all he did for them. After how far he went to store power and collect secrets to secure the Minister's position. She would not forget this betrayal. 

“Malfoy Manor after the agreements of this meeting is being seized by the ministry for the investigation. They are going to be taking anything that could be seen as dark magic or linked to the case.”

“How does that prevent me from procuring a team of solicitors?”

“Because they aren’t stopping there. If he gets sentenced the ministry will freeze all the Malfoy vaults and properties using the Lawful Criminal Act in order to prevent the uhh rich paying off their charges. Separating everything owned under him as Lord Malfoy in holding.” 

“Are you telling me that if my husband gets sentenced the ministry is taking everything the Malfoy name holds.” 

That was hundreds of millions of galleons stolen by the ministry. This was illegal and intolerable and would not be allowed to happen. It would cause an open revolt. 

“Oh no.” Shacklebolt said quickly. “The assets are simply frozen until a new Lord Malfoy can take his place or the current Lord passes.”

A new lord, they would have to wait until her son's seventeenth birthday, which would be another four years. Or Lucius’s death though that would be difficult to predict, unless she got left into a room with him currently as her want to kill him grows with each terrible consequence of his reckless actions. 

“Do they expect us to live on the streets of Diagon Alley?” 

“No, the Ministry is operating on the basis you have enough to survive up to that date. Especially with your own family money. Otherwise a ministry approved allowance may be enacted.”

The small House of Black funds she had saved in her own vault would suffice, with the rest tied up by her idiot cousin sitting in Azkaban but there should surely be enough for them to live on. Albeit on a smaller basis though but that did not help their living situation, perhaps a Black property. She had always liked the Manor in Monaco. 

“But none of that can be discussed till we reach an agreement.”

“Fine but I’ll need some things first.” 

He slid over paper and a quill in suggestion. She wrote down a list of names and things that would need to be put into place. 

Sliding it back over she watched as his eyes lit up in confusion at the first bullet point. Ah he had been paying attention to her in school, enough for him to question if she truly had finally gone mad. 

Oh well the rules had changed for Narcissa but thankfully she had always been proficient at adapting to her current circumstances. And she still had quite a few wild cards left to play.

———

The world became colourless after that night, the new year arriving with one less sister and a dead numbness that ate at her very core.

“What are you reading?” Medea asked, lounging against her in their room. 

“Just revising the Golden Ratio and its impact on Egyptian Runes.”

“Fun.” She said sarcastically her curled auburn hair laying against the pillow like a soft halo, her light brown eyes almost looking through Narcissa. 

She ignored the careful observation of her best friend. Medea would not understand, her brother Theseus would never have betrayed her unlike Narcissa’s own sister.

Medea crawled closer and positioned herself behind her so Narcissa could lie between her legs and lean against her chest.

A soothing motion was forming with Medea massaging her sharp nails across her head in circular motions. It was a comforting reminder of something they had done to help the other relax since they were too little to remember when it started. It would not solve her problems but it did help her feel better. 

“Are you stressing about OWLS already?” She complained when she got bored. 

“Well some of us do have to revise.” Narcissa laughed, finding Medeas sulky expression humorous. “Don’t pout.”

“I’m not!” Medea denied though she couldn’t stay serious for too long before she started giggling too. 

“You're ridiculous.” She lightly sighed, putting her book down enjoying the attention of her gaze. It was like basking in a heat of fire sometimes reminiscent of an explosion and other times a sunny day. But it always kept her warm and she found even the somewhat destructive nature it usually accompanied strangely familiar.

Medea only nudged her lightly to stop her staring, before sitting up on the edge of the blanket to pick up the letter by the bedside table she had received from her brother. 

“What’s Theseus said?” Narcissa asked curiously, she had never been good at reading her facial expressions.

“Elina is pregnant. It’s a boy.” Medea said with a small smile lighting up her face.

“Is that…good.” Narcissa wondered aloud. Perhaps it was her own projection but the thought of her siblings having children of their own frightened her. Let alone a new heir to their family.

“Of course Cissa.” Medea said before leaning fully back stretching out across her lap like a satisfied kitten before smirking up at her. “It means Father has less of an incentive to need to marry me off.”

“Aren’t you excited for marriage?”

Medea scoffed before gently caressing her hand across her cheek and brushing a hair out of her face like how you would as a young child to your favourite doll. 

“What's there to be excited about?”

“I don't know, having children, being a lady of a manor, falling in love…”

“Hmm.” Medea shrugged as if not finding the sound of it all that romantic. 

“Isn't that your dream?” Narcissa asked, genuinely confused.

Something flashed before Medea’s eyes that was unreadable before she closed her eyes and let her face loosen. 

“All I want is to travel the world with you. See things…be someone.” 

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s my dream is it not.” Medea turned to lean her head into Narcissa’s shoulder and shut her eyes as if willing her to be silent.

“Yes.” Narcissa whispered, closing her own eyes, surely Medea could dream big; it did not mean that she wanted that as her reality. “When…” she spoke up after a moment of silence. “We get married and have children, will we still stay as close as this. Stay as best friends.”

Medea didn’t answer for an excruciatingly long few seconds, Narcissa worried she was already asleep.

“Yeah.” She said her eyes tiredly trying to stay open. “I’ll stay as you want me to do.”

Narcissa watched as her breaths slowed and drowsiness overtook Medea, ignoring how her last strange sentence had made her. She could not imagine a world without her in it.

Sleep overtook her and she wondered what kind of world Medea was dreaming up tonight and if it had a place for her in it. Narcissa hoped so because the auburn halo of hair beside her belonging to the most fiery person she had ever met lit up her world in a way that reminded her she was alive. And she wasn’t sure what she would do if she did not have it. 

She had already lost enough.