Chapter Forty of 'I Give You a Wondrous Mirror'- Marian
Thank you again for all the reviews!
Chapter Forty-Marian
Harry crouched breathing in the silence. He was still tense, still quivering with the need to snatch a wand-
And now his enemy was asleep. Permanently asleep, if he recognized the curse that Narcissa had used correctly. Lethargus aeternus, eternal coma.
He could not really believe that it was over, and that Draco was here now, and that Andromeda was down, and that the children were not injured.
Well. Not physically, anyway.
Harry shook his head, dazedly, and started to drag himself to his feet. Draco’s eyes locked on him at once, and then he appeared to Apparate. Harry realized it had really been a rapid bound across his aunt’s body a moment later, when he felt Draco’s arms curling around his shoulders and supporting him tenderly. He put his weight on his right leg, and hissed. It seemed that the wound there had broken open yet again, and so had one on his hip that he didn’t specifically remember Andromeda casting.
Al was next to him, lifting his arms and crying soundlessly, begging to be picked up. Harry started to bend to do that, but Draco said quietly, “You’ll tear your wounds open again,” in a tone that could not be disobeyed.
“I have to, Draco,” Harry said, and then started. He had not realized his voice would sound that hoarse, or that hollow. He wondered if some of the hollowness came from the wounds in his cheeks that exposed part of his teeth and gums.
Draco lifted a hand to those cuts before he could, slowly drawing his wand along them and pressing the hanging flaps of skin back into place with a murmured healing spell. Harry nodded his thanks and then stooped down and scooped Al up before Draco could oppose him. Draco sighed, but just tightened his grip on Harry’s elbow, as if to say that he could hardly object to such things when he was a father himself.
“Are the children injured at all?” he asked Harry.
“If they were, do you think I would have let you tend to me first?” Harry arched his brows at Draco, then glanced at the door. Another of the statues that had come at Andromeda was peering in at them. This one resembled a model of Draco’s father, and held a large splinter of stone in its hand. Harry eyed it with a new respect. Despite the success of Andromeda’s dragon-fire spell, he didn’t think magic would ordinarily be able to defeat one of these creatures. “Are the Salazar’s Snakes and the others being taken care of?”
“The army I called up from the crypts will do that.” Draco’s face was slowly lightening, as though he could shake off the gray shock and return to emotions now. He abruptly crushed Harry in a fierce embrace, even as his mother brushed past them in order to pick up Scorpius with one arm and Lily with the other. “God,” he whispered into Harry’s ear, “I was so worried about you.”
“And I about you.” Harry turned his head, letting his cheek rest in Draco’s hair for just a moment. They couldn’t wait too long. They had the children to take care of and other responsibilities, as well, such as figuring out what they would do with Andromeda. “I thought you might lose your mind in the darkness.”
“I was stronger than that.” Draco’s lips were moving lightly enough against his ear to tickle. “Thanks to you.”
Harry sighed softy and let his eyes fall shut. He could accept, now, that recovery might be possible.
*
Draco had a terrible time convincing Harry to sit down and let him heal his injuries. It seemed that Harry wanted everything else settled first: the children taken care of, Teddy talked to and hugged and reassured, Narcissa questioned on the nature of the spell she’d used, the statues asked about what they would do now the enemy they’d been summoned to defeat was gone. Draco finally hauled Harry into the room where Narcissa and Teddy had been held prisoner, forced him into a chair, and set about healing him while everyone else crowded around, so that Harry could see and talk to them all as necessary.
The sight of Harry’s injuries made Draco nauseated, as did the faint, recurring tremble in his limbs that Draco knew to be a sign of the Cruciatus Curse. Andromeda had tortured Harry in front of his children-their children. And Harry had accepted the pain as though it were expected, and still managed to keep her attention fixed on him, so that the children were spared any of her spells.
If he had not been in love with Harry before, he would have been now.
Draco’s own hands trembled as he brushed flakes of dried blood from Harry’s hair and set about healing the cuts Andromeda had put on his scalp. Harry gave him an affectionate look and gripped his wrist, hard.
The children were settled. James stood next to his father, clutching Harry’s robes with one hand and content to be quiet. Al sat in his father’s lap, his thumb firmly in his mouth, his head buried against Harry’s chest. Narcissa had cuddled and soothed Lily, and Scorpius was content as long as he could rest on his grandmother’s shoulder and watch Draco.
And then Harry called Teddy over, and embraced him, and spoke softly to him.
Draco had barely had a chance to study him, this cousin of his. Teddy Lupin was a quiet boy-understandably-with regular features, who wouldn’t have stood out in a crowd. Draco thought he had the Black nose, though, and there was something about the corners of his eyes that seemed to come straight from Narcissa herself. His hair was deepest black-purple right now, and abominably curly, and he avoided everyone’s eyes, staring at the floor.
Only when Harry said, in a slightly exasperated voice, “Teddy, of course we don’t think that you knew anything about what she was doing!” did the boy look up a little. Some life crept back into his face.
“You believe that?” he whispered. “Because, Harry, really, I didn’t. I didn’t know anything.”
“Of course not,” Harry said softly, and his hand rose and stroked Teddy’s hair in a way that reminded Draco of the way he handled his own children, or Draco, or, really, anyone who needed to feel calmer. He made a wonderful people person, Draco thought, as he leaned on his lover’s shoulder. Harry gave him a quick, faint smile before he turned back to his godson. “If anything, I think she would have been desperate to keep you out of it. You were the one link back to a normal life she had, the one promise that things would calm down again when she was done killing.”
Teddy swallowed. Then he said, “I-I thought she acted strange. She couldn’t bear any mention of Mum sometimes, and then sometimes Mum was all she could talk about. But she told me that people just took grief differently. When I lost her, I’d know that.” His eyes slid closed, and he wrapped his arms around himself and shuddered helplessly.
Harry hugged him again, and held him until he stopped shivering. Then he let him go, tactfully, Draco thought, because no boy that age would like to be held and made to feel dependent for too long. “What happened when she burned the house and took you away?” he asked softly.
Teddy shook his head. “She cast some sort of sleeping spell on me. I woke up once on the dragon’s back, and I could smell the house burning behind us, but when I tried to twist around, she put me to sleep again. The next thing I knew, I was here.”
Draco hissed between his teeth. Andromeda had been able to enter because he’d knocked a hole open in the wards for her and Teddy. And he had thought it was Marian.
Not that my traitorous wife will receive a warm welcome from me, simply because she was not the one to betray this particular secret. She certainly told Andromeda other things that helped her to try and incapacitate me.
“You don’t need to worry, Teddy,” Harry said firmly. “I’ll adopt you. You’ll be part of my family as long as I have a family. Do you understand? I’ll be your godfather, and your father, too, if you’ll have me.”
Teddy hugged Harry then, bowing his head and blinking hard in an effort not to cry. Draco waited for the optimum moment, when he didn’t think it would be resented, and leaned around Harry to put a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. Teddy looked up at him, still blinking.
“And the same thing goes for me,” he told Teddy. “Harry and his children will be staying in Malfoy Manor for the foreseeable future. I understand if you don’t want to stay here because the memories are so awful, but-“
Teddy shook his head. “I-I was helped, here. I would hate to go back to our house, though, because every corner is full of memories.” His voice sank, and he looked away for a moment, his fingers working together.
Narcissa stepped forwards, her face set in the serene expression Draco knew well. She used it to mask great emotion. She had worn that look the first night Harry and his children came to stay in the Manor, and when Lucius went to prison, and when the Dark Lord commanded her to join his entourage in Draco’s seventh year. “You are welcome here, for my part,” she said. “I should have got to know my sister again, and then perhaps things would have turned out differently. And I would like to get to know you.”
Teddy turned and leaned on her without hesitation. It was probably different with a woman, Draco thought, and especially with a woman his grandmother’s age or near it. “Thanks,” he whispered. “Yes, I want that.”
“It shouldn’t be hard,” Harry said. “Andromeda was your primary guardian, but I’m named second on your birth certificate, because I was godfather.” He shifted and looked up at Draco’s mother. “And now, Narcissa, can you please tell me what spell you cast on Andromeda?”
*
Narcissa stepped forwards slowly and looked Harry in the eye. Harry looked back. He could see no trace of the concerned sister under that mask she wore, but then again, he wasn’t sure he would want to. Narcissa seemed inclined to the same instincts he was in a situation like this: be strong, so that others could collapse. Harry just needed answers, and he sensed that she would give them without hesitation.
“It’s called the Eternal Coma spell,” Narcissa said calmly. “There is no returning or waking from it. She’ll sleep for the rest of her life, until she dies of old age.”
Harry didn’t miss Teddy turning away from the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t sure he could offer the lad any more comfort. Besides, Teddy’s emotions were not so easy to discern, from the brief glimpse Harry had had of his face. Concern? Regret? Relief, even? If his grandmother was asleep-
She could not stand trial. She could not wake to reprimand Teddy, or make his life worse. She couldn’t bring any unwanted attention to him from the papers.
Of course the Blood Reparations Department would have to know the truth, because they were the Ministry officials most involved in this case, but they would be able to tuck it away far more quickly and neatly than if the Department of Magical Law Enforcement had brought Andromeda before the Wizengamot. The Masked Lady could remain the Masked Lady to the world at large. Her followers would be the ones blamed for the majority of the attacks and crimes, and that was just fine with Harry. Pure-blood and Muggleborn supremacists deserved whatever came their way if they were idiotic enough to try and foster war between the factions, or work together for the sole purpose of causing war.
And that, of course, would be why Narcissa used the spell, other than the delight she probably took in causing her sister that single moment of intense fear before she fell asleep.
Andromeda asleep wouldn’t bring any negative attention to the Malfoys, either. And it wouldn’t force Narcissa to watch her sister be put in Azkaban beside her husband, as she surely would have been. Andromeda could be put into St. Mungo’s, paid for by the Malfoys but cared for by other people.
Narcissa had thought of all those consequences and made the best decision she could in just a few seconds.
Harry was unable to prevent the respect from creeping into his eyes. Narcissa inclined her head and smiled at him a little. Then she put Scorpius gently down on the stool behind her and aimed her wand at Harry.
“You still have some wounds untreated, Harry,” she said. “And I think that one of our ancestors needs to speak with Draco.”
Harry glanced up. Sure enough, another statue, female this time, leaned in from the doorway across the room and beckoned Draco. He couldn’t help reaching up to touch his lover’s hand, offering him support and reassurance if he needed it.
Draco smiled at him, squeezed his wrist, and walked towards the statue. Harry studied his back. Only a short time past, Draco’s shoulders had been hunched under the weight of intolerable burdens-apathy and a profound lack of interest in the outside world among them. Now he walked like a warrior.
And he was. He had faced and conquered his own internal fears alone in whatever room the Snakes had put him in. He had summoned help for them and saved them all.
Harry suspected his face was melting into hopeless love as he stared after Draco, but Teddy was looking aside, his children were too young to really understand, and Narcissa diplomatically said nothing about it.
*
Julia cocked her head at Draco the moment they stepped through the doorway, and then shut the door. Draco was startled for a moment, but shrugged it off. For all he knew, Julia was about to say something that only the current head of the Malfoy line should hear, and that would certainly be her privilege as the leader of an undead, immortal army.
Mostly immortal. He winced at the thought of the metallic puddle that was all that remained of Abraxas. Lucius had confirmed, curtly, that there was no way to raise Draco’s grandfather or bring him back, and turned away. Draco had not pressed.
“Why didn’t you tell me about the life-debts?” Julia said now.
Draco blinked, unnerved. “You can sense them?”
“Smell them,” Julia said. She was staring at Draco with those living eyes, and he was more certain than ever that being born several generations after her was the right idea. “They’re hanging around you and your Harry like the smell of white-hot iron. Mingled, piled on top of each other, some of them years old, half of them unfulfilled. You know that the only choice in such a situation is to give yourselves to each other. Why haven’t you?”
“Harry is bound by the strictest set of marriage vows,” Draco said bitterly. It felt good to have someone to complain to to whom this was all new, someone who wouldn’t turn away from the truth or flinch like Granger had the habit of doing. “He can’t touch someone other than his wife with desire, or he gets the most horrendous itching. We are lovers, because the debts have provided us with dreams that are nearly as good as the real thing. But the marriage vows won’t simply cease, and Granger-a friend of Harry’s who’s fairly good at research-said that they’re as stubborn as the life-debts. The last time we were near Harry’s wife, Ginny Weasley, the debts and the vows together nearly tore him in half.”
Julia reared her head back like a striking snake. “The solution is simple,” she said. “Only lure this Ginny Weasley here, and I will kill her.”
Draco felt a wave of temptation so intense that it stole his breath. Then he shook his head. “Harry would never forgive me,” he said ruefully. “Even though you’re right, and it is the simplest solution.”
Julia tapped her fingers against her hips with a sound like bells being clashed against stone walls. “And you are sure this Harry is worth the aggravation in remaining together with him?” she asked. “Understand, I think him handsome and dedicated enough to you to make a good Malfoy spouse, but one must consider the political standing that you gain from him, and how peaceful your life will be if you take him to bed.”
Draco grinned. For once, there was an advantage to the fact that his ancestors had been down in the crypts for several generations. “Actually,” he said, “Harry saved the entire wizarding world from the latest Dark Lord ten years ago. The political currency from dating him can’t get much higher.”
Julia nodded, looking grudgingly impressed. “And you care for him?”
“Love him,” Draco corrected. “Yes.” Then he held his breath, wondering if his ancestress would think that a weakness her nephew had to overcome.
Julia stood in silence for some moments. At last she said, “If you will not consent to the death of his wife, then I wonder what the woman we found cowering in the back of a closet on your second floor still means to you. She wears the ring that speaks of a Malfoy wedded spouse, but she does not look like one.”
Draco swallowed. “That would be Marian MacFusty,” he said. “She was my wife, yes, and the mother of Scorpius. But she vanished some time ago, apparently either murdered or kidnapped. I quickly learned that she was working with my enemies. She had used blood magic to create a hydra that nearly destroyed me. After that, she seemed remorseful and sent us what warning of attacks she could. But she still turned her back on me and betrayed all the confidence which spouses should repose in one another. I ask that you not kill her, if only because that would mean another murder charge against me.”
Julia nodded again. “But you will come with me to speak with her. Both because it is necessary before we return to the crypts, and because I wish to see what happens to the smell of the life-debts when she is around you.”
Draco barely had time to give his assent before Julia clasped his hand and hauled him gently but inexorably along.
*
Marian sat chained to a chair in the center of the small, dusty alcove where Julia led Draco, her wrists bound so tightly that they were already turning red. Draco wondered for a moment where Julia’s army had got chains, and then decided, very carefully, that he would not ask.
She started up when she saw him, but of course the manacles yanked her back into her seat again. “Draco,” she whispered, with almost no voice behind the words. She didn’t bow her head, though, and her eyes didn’t overflow with tears, which were both things Draco would have expected before this little adventure with the Masked Lady. She continued gazing straight at him, her face filled with an odd sort of hunger. That was explained when she asked, “How is Scorpius?”
“He survived,” Draco said quietly. “Uninjured in body, though he was forced to witness Harry’s torture, and so I suspect he may have some trauma.” He folded his arms and contemplated his wife. He had expected to feel a fiercer hatred. Now, though he knew Marian had wronged him, it was more a distant, weary unconcern, the desire to have things done and over with so that he could return to the life unfolding in front of him. “No thanks to you,” he added.
Marian flinched and looked away. “I know,” she said. “I didn’t know what the Masked Lady was when I betrayed you to her. You have to understand, Draco. I was desperate. I didn’t think I would ever get a chance to touch my son again, as long as he remained in your custody. I struck back where I thought I could, and when some of her minions approached me and offered me vengeance in exchange for information, I thought I had to accept it before the offer was retracted.”
Draco grunted and tilted his head. “And it didn’t occur to you that this might end up hurting Scorpius more than it hurt me?”
“Not until I realized the Blood Hydra would strike wildly.” Tears stood in Marian’s eyes, but did not fall. “The Masked Lady had reassured me that only you would be hurt. Not even Narcissa. I didn’t want to hurt her, and the Masked Lady was very anxious to avoid it, too, for some reason. But I knew she was lying to me when I managed to coax one of her servants to give me more details about the Blood Hydra. And from then on I sent notes with warnings of her attacks whenever I thought I could get away with it. That wasn’t for very long, unfortunately. The Lady tightened her watch on me.”
Draco nodded. “She’s defeated. And she was my aunt Andromeda Black Tonks, which explains her reluctance to hurt Narcissa and her interest in Scorpius and you sufficiently, I think.”
Marian just stared at him in shock. Then she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
Marian shook her head. “I just-blood shouldn’t turn on you that way. I know how I would feel if one of my aunts betrayed me. It’s one thing when you’re entering an arranged, passionless marriage-“ her eyes flashed at the words, as if she actually imagined she could hurt Draco with them “-but blood relatives are supposed to stay loyal to you.”
Draco felt a flash of irritation. Where had this reasonable woman been for the last two years? He could have attempted reconciliation if Marian had acted like this. He might never have ventured outside the house, might never have met Harry again-
And then he was grateful that this Marian hadn’t been around after all.
“Well,” he said, to center himself, “she’s gone. And I’ll consider what we’re going to do with you. It won’t be death, but I don’t know what it will be, yet. I can’t just forget what you did to Scorpius, or to me.”
Marian nodded, staring at him intently. “I know. I understand.”
Draco stepped out of the room and shut the door behind him. He thought he would have preferred a woman who kicked and fussed and screamed to this too-calm one. He glanced at Julia, who stood with her arms folded; she had remained out of Marian’s sight, probably so as not to panic her.
“What do the life-debts smell like?” he asked curiously.
“They are stronger than your marriage vows,” Julia said instantly. “And, I believe, they are the equal of your lover’s. I could sense the magic stirring when you were around your wife. It wanted to get you away from her and push you back towards your lover-only natural, since it has worked to unite you with him. But it was missing two essential presences to be able to complete its work.”
Draco frowned. “Harry, of course. But the other person?”
“Harry’s wife.” Julia leaned towards him, her mouth folded into that intimidating smile. “Bring Ginny Weasley into contact with you and Harry at the same time both of you are near your traitorous bride. Then, you will see what the magic has planned to ensure that it completes its work and allows the marriage vows to continue to exist.”
Chapter 41.