Chapter 2

Author's Note: Not mine, unfortunately. Please review!

"What's the matter, Mother?" Draco, dressed in Quidditch robes and carrying the scent of morning sunshine, strode into his mother's sitting room. "Are you ill?"

"Oh, Draco, it's you." Narcissa, still clad in her ivory silk nightdress and matching peignoir, peered with bloodshot eyes between the fingers that hid her face. "No, I shall be fine. Merely feeling a bit odd today."

Draco's pale eyes darkened with concern. "Would you like a potion for something? I can have the house-elves... "

"No!" cried Narcissa with a vehemence that startled the both of them. "No potions!"

"Oh." Her son was quite taken aback. "All right then. May I sit with you, Mother?"

"Of course, darling." Narcissa patted the seat of the ottoman before her, and Draco settled down, somewhat nervously. "My dear, handsome boy. Look at you." Smoothing her son's white-blond hair, sweat-dampened from the summer's heat, she gave him a small smile. "So very like your father. I do miss him terribly."

Not used to this sort of sentimentality from her, Draco gave his mother's arm a sort of awkward pat. "I know." His lips twisted into a bashfully pleased grin. "Am I really just like Father?"

"Oh, indeed." Having become embarrassed at her forthrightness of emotion, Narcissa attempted to lighten the mood. "And the mother of a certain Pansy Parkinson couldn't agree more."

Two rosy spots appeared on his pale cheeks. "Oh... right... er, how was the ball?"

"What, don't want to talk about your lady-love, then?" teased Narcissa gently. "Well, all right. It was a nice time... " Oh, that it was, you cheating bitch... "I saw your Potions master." And betrayed your father with him too.

"Snape was there? With all the Death Eaters?" queried Draco incredulously. "Did you talk to him?"

"Well, it was a masque after all." Narcissa paused. "Yes, I spoke with him at length." I fucked him senseless in your father's bed as well. "He mentioned something about an abysmal Potions final."

"It wasn't my fault! That Gryffindor idiot Longbottom spilled an Invigoration Draught all over my notes!" He scowled at her. "What are you doing, keeping tabs on me at parties now?"

"I'm your mother, Draco, it's my job. Now don't give me that look!" Straightening her spine, Narcissa glowered at her son. "You're lucky it's me and not Lucius whom you're giving that unbecoming stare."

"Were you and Father a love match?" he blurted out, the Pansy Parkinson-induced pink on his cheeks fast becoming red.

"That's a very personal question, Draco!" Narcissa reproved. "Whatever made you ask such a thing?" With pursed lips, she nonetheless continued in the hope of forgetting the likes of Severus Snape, if even for an hour. "Well, since you asked... not exactly. It's true that we were the match of the season, Black's youngest daughter and the new master of Malfoy Manor, and extraordinarily well-suited to one another, but I can't say it was love exactly. Not for me and certainly not for him... though he did nearly fight a duel over me." Finally the woman's eyes smiled as she recalled the antics of their younger selves. "I'm sure he would have won anyhow."

"A duel! Who was he going to fight?"

"Severus Snape," Narcissa choked in a strange, thin voice.

"Who?"

"Severus Snape. They were rivals for my hand."

"Professor Snape? The Potions master? But why?"

"Well, I'd wanted to marry your father since I clapped eyes on him at a party when I was just out of Hogwarts, but Severus and I are... were... old school friends. He was two years ahead of me, and I was always curious about him... " But you had all your curiosity fulfilled didn't you, Narcissa, my girl?

"Oh. Well how did you stop the duel?"

"I chose your father," she stated simply, "and honestly, between Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape, it was really no contest. Snape is a second son, and even if he were not, Snape Hall is a crumbling old place barely fit for habitation. Gods, it was worse then than Kreacher tells me the House of Black is now. At any rate, I chose well with Lucius. He and Snape joined the Death Eaters to protect us purebloods from the Muggle taint, but Snape was a coward. That's why he's free now."

"But Father talked his way out of Azkaban before. He turned away from the Dark Lord, too."

"Draco, I'd just had you," Narcissa told him soothingly, catching his chin between her thumb and forefinger briefly, "so he was needed here. He had an heir to see to. Besides that, he went back to serve the Dark Lord, but Snape remains with Dumbledore as a blood traitor."

"But you're not, er, curious about Snape anymore?"

"Draco Malfoy! Bite your tongue!" cried Narcissa furiously, "have I taught you nothing about discretion? About propriety? Circe's wand, Draco, you're a Slytherin; you ought to have a bit more subtlety than that. And just for the record no, I haven't one bit of 'curiosity' about Severus, that is, Professor Snape any longer." Especially not now that I've finally given in and let him do what he was finally bold enough to after all these years. Gods... Unforgivables aside, I put up absolutely no fight whatsoever.

"Sorry, Mother," mumbled Draco, breaking into her thoughts.

"Oh." Narcissa had nearly forgotten his presence. "Just be more careful in the future. Well, come on then, Draco, go take off your Quidditch things and dress for breakfast. I shall be down in a moment."

Fondly, she watched her son leave but immediately buried her face in her hands once again as soon as he was out of sight.

Oh, my darling Draco, why must you burden me with questions about love today of all days? The morning after I finally learned the answers to my unasked questions about Severus Snape... Salazar's sword, the blood traitor bastard is even better in bed than I suspected, damn him. And now Draco wants to know whether I love his father? What on earth? Unless things with Pansy Parkinson are more serious than I'd thought...

"Mistress?" The squeak of Glaber, one of the Malfoys' dozen or so house-elves, interrupted her musings. "Is Mistress Malfoy wanting Glaber to help her dress?"

"Fine, fine," said Narcissa irritably as she raised her wand to summon her gown and stepped inside it so the servant could fasten the buttons in the back. "Summon my carriage straightaway after breakfast, Glaber, and when Draco goes out, have the linen changed in Mr. Malfoy's suite."

"Why does Mistress wants Glaber to clean Master's room? Master is Azkaban."

"As if I'd forgotten that, you idiotic creature. Just do as I say and don't question it, or I'll give you more suits of clothes than you can count!"

"Not clothes, Mistress, please, not clothes!" the house-elf begged her with watery eyes. "Glaber is sorry."

"Glaber had best be sorry." Narcissa smoothed her powder-blue satin skirts and clasped a delicate diamond necklace around her throat. "Now get downstairs and fetch those thestrals from the stable. I shan't be long."

* * *

Mrs. Malfoy's palms dampened her fine white gloves as her carriage alighted in Hogsmeade later that morning, and she nervously straightened the short veil that was attached to the tiny hat perched atop her elegantly piled blonde hair and obscured most of her face. True, she could have just Apparated there and made the process far simpler, but she'd rather have her sojourn seem like nothing more than an innocent shopping trip, a plausible excuse to leave the house. She'd even had a house-elf accompany her there to complete her pretense.

The servant opened the door when they had reached Gladrags Wizardwear and handed Narcissa down onto the crowded sidewalk. Unfortunately, the masses did nothing to conceal her, not with the Malfoy crest so prominent on her carriage door, but Narcissa did not worry overmuch. Favoring the other pureblood ladies with a cool smile, she drew herself up into a regal pose and strode into the shop.

Narcissa spent several bored minutes picking through rather unremarkable dresses and robes when she finally settled on a few items for her son. Though well aware that many young wizards, even purebloods, were dressing in Muggle clothes in their leisure time, the thought of seeing her Draco in jeans and a sports jersey was enough to bring tears to Narcissa's eyes.

She carried the items to the front of the shop, where she carelessly tossed a few Galleons onto the counter as payment. So distracted was she that she nearly handed the bag of robes to the house-elf, who eyed them with a look of extreme revulsion.

"Oh! Silly me!" she laughed mirthlessly to the shop assistant. "Though it's not that I don't need to threaten them with it at least ten times a day... " Having recovered her aplomb, Narcissa waved her wand to open the door and proceeded back into the sunshine. "Now," she hissed at Glaber, "you were lucky that time, but tomorrow I may not be in such a brilliant mood. Get in the carriage and stay there." When the door had opened, Narcissa cast a Banishing Charm on the new robes and sent them flying inside after the elf. With a snap of her manicured fingers, she had Apparated to the darkest, most shadowy corner of the Three Broomsticks beside a table occupied by none other than Severus Snape himself.

"Ah, Mrs. Malfoy, fashionably late as usual, I see."

Narcissa curled her lip at him, showing off her perfect white teeth, and sat without waiting for an invitation. "I believe you know why we're here, Severus." She pulled the veil even lower over her face.

"Well, my dear, I admit I wasn't at all surprised that you would seek out my company again so soon." Snape eyed the woman with unmasked desire, but his words were laced with sarcasm. "But now I am quite confused indeed, Narcissa. You've not even kissed me yet."

"Keep your bloody voice down!" Narcissa drew her wand. "You may remember that I know the Unforgivables."

"Naturally, Mrs. Malfoy, but I'm certain that Slytherins such as ourselves would not be so indiscreet as to use them in public. That sort of rash passion is so very Gryffindor, don't you think?"

"Indeed," Narcissa managed through her gritted teeth, "but since you mention rash passion, let us think on you for a moment. But where to begin? Ah, yes. A man who dons only a stupid velvet mask as disguise before proceeding into the thick of his enemies so that he can at last seduce the wife of one of their most prominent men... "

"A wife, I might add, who put up only a superficial fight with no real intent of actually denying me." The corners of Snape's mouth curved humorlessly. "A wife who quite obviously wondered what she had forgone all those years ago."

"Fuck you, Severus."

"Very original, Narcissa. I take it I've hit upon the truth? Otherwise you'd have a more compelling argument for me than 'fuck you, Severus.' Am I right? Judging from the way you were writhing beneath me last night, I rather suppose I am." Snape's features once again settled into a triumphant sneer.

"You're pathetic, Severus. You go to parties and seduce married women, and when you trounce their arguments against it, you sit there looking for all the world as though you just gave Potter a 'T' in Potions."

"I assure you, Mrs. Malfoy, that it is not ordinarily my habit to seduce other men's wives. Yes, I thought it prudent to Apparate back Hogsmeade this morning before you woke. If that's what this tirade is about... "

"No, Severus, indeed I was quite glad you'd gone. I merely felt compelled to tell you never to seek me out henceforth. First of all, I am married... "

"Yes, but now that you've long since given your dear Lucius an heir, you're rather free to pursue other fancies, are you not? As long as you are reasonably discreet, I don't expect he would mind."

"That's where you're wrong, Severus. Lucius would certainly mind an errant wife, even if she were 'reasonably discreet' as you say. He doesn't like to share, especially not with blood traitors."

"Ah, but he is in Azkaban, my sweet."

"Not forever," she said stubbornly, "and besides, I have no wish to betray him further. He's been a good husband to me; I owe him at least that. Anyhow, you are my son's teacher and his Head of House. Even if I were to have an affair, it couldn't be with you."

"You've already had an affair with me, Madam Malfoy, and the idea of my teaching your son certainly did not seem to bother you then."

"You're a second son and a blood traitor!"

"You were aware of my non-heir status when you nearly married me, Narcissa Black, and though you attempted the Killing Curse last night, I doubt my allegiance to Dumbledore was much of an issue when I was touching your... "

"Enough!" cried Narcissa. "Do you want the entire world to know? For a Slytherin, your subtlety seems somewhat lacking. Perhaps it is the blood traitor in you. Whatever it may be, I have no interest in it or you or any sort of illicit relationship. Good day, Severus."

"Go ahead, Narcissa, get back to Malfoy Manor. Just know this: I won't be giving up so easily. I've waited nearly two decades for this and can bide my time." He stood along with her, bowing over her hand and removing the white glove from it by slowly tugging the fingertips. Rather than kissing the smooth white skin, he took her pinky finger into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue and sucking it while the flustered woman above him gave a shocked gasp of pleasure.

When Snape had replaced the glove, Narcissa gave him a malevolent stare that did not quite hide the flicker of desire that lingered in her eyes and swept out of the inn gracefully before Apparating into thin air.