She doesn't know what to say, really. She thinks back over the dinners, the holidays, the couple of times she got to visit Fred and George at their shop, and never once had she been asked, "so what's it like being a 'special' Muggle in the Magical world?" or anything of the sort.
Therion dresses, then kneels down beside Malfoy. Are you alright? he asks him, and the fair wizard replies, ask me later, please... then touches Elsbet's face again. "You're afraid of remembering something painful, and we've told you that we will help you work through that when it happens." She nods, but doesn't meet their eyes. "Elsbet," Therion says softly, "you have to trust us...you know that we would never, ever harm you. You know--" she touches his hand, then Malfoy's, and sighs deeply. "You want to go inside my head, right?" The wizards exchange glances, then tell her yes. "But Severus worked in my head," she says, "in my mind, so that no one else could get in and find the important stuff in there."
She laughs a little, trying to make light of it, but it doesn't make her feel any better. "And so no one could hurt me again." Another exchange of glances, and Therion thinks, do you suppose we could turn his work to our advantage? I mean...we know she's got some skill, at least rudimentary skill, in Occlumency; she's blocked out a tremendous amount of her life-memories. What if we can take what she can already do and blend it with what he's done? Malfoy rises and goes to the door. "I'm a bit peckish," he says, "I could do with a nibble or two." He leaves the room and goes to the kitchen, and Therion follows behind. "We don't need his permission," Therion says evenly, "we're equals in this relationship, in this Family. She needs help, and he's not going to push her--"
He sees the dangerously dark look come over Malfoy's face suddenly but the fair wizard doesn't meet the other's gaze. "I've upset you," he says, running his hand through his coppery mane, as he takes a seat at the breakfast bar. Malfoy gives him a single, sharp, shake of his head as he opens the refrigerator. He takes out two covered bowls and sits them on the counter, then two plates. A knife, a fork, and the small loaf of pumpernickle are set out, and Malfoy sighs. "Therry, I know what you're suggesting, and it may be possible. To blend the two so that she can access her memories safely, rather than risking the trauma of a triggering event." Therion nods. "Like reading Lord of the Rings...It would be so nice to sit and read with her, but I never know what might trigger something."
Malfoy fixes his companion a couple of sandwiches with the ham spread and thick tomato halves, then fixes his own. "You know how deeply and desperately he loves her," he says softly. "The issue is that we have no way of knowing what kind of security measures he has set up to keep invaders out." He takes a bite of sandwich, then turns and gets the pumpkin juice out of the fridge, pours two glasses, then puts the pitcher back. "We could do her tremendous harm not knowing what we're doing, and I can't live with that. Neither can you." Therion finishes a sandwich and swallows the last bite hard. "And there's no place on this planet we could hide from him..." He drinks a bit of his juice, then asks, "do you have any idea what he may have done?"
Malfoy tells him no, and they finish their food and juice in silence. That silence is broken by Elsbet's soft voice.
"Remus might know." They look at her with a mix of surprise and shame, but before they can apologize, she's kissed them both then gone to sit outside in their little yard. Malfoy cleans up quickly, then the two wizards follow her out. They find her sitting beside the pond, its surface shimmering with the light of the full moon. She doesn't look up at them, and they almost hesitate to intrude upon her. Finally, she turns slightly to them and pulls her robe up enough to put her feet in the water. They come to the pond and sit down beside her and do the same, and with their feet in the pond, tadpoles investigating their toes, Elsbet tells them how she thinks Remus might be able to help them.
***
It has been quite some time since her last flight to Wiltshire, and the last time was actually just for pleasure. This time, however, there is a sense of urgency. As she comes in toward the vast estate she sees no dementors, yet the presence of Evil hangs in the air all the same. But much to her relief, he is not there. The Dark Lord is not there. He must be travelling, she thinks, and seeks to make the best of the time she has. As she comes in closer, however, her sharp eyes spy a horrible sight. Bones by the fountain... She lands nearby and stares at them as if suddenly petrified; she can't believe what she's seeing.
Cautiously she approaches the bones, and her predatory senses tell her they have not been bare of flesh long. The ground they lay upon is saturated with evil and pain, and she stoops to pick up a bone with great sorrow in her heart. Gently, she lifts a rib in her huge beak, touches it with her tongue, then realizes someone has seen her. The witch looks at her with alarm, then anger, thinking her a common scavenger, and she rushes forward to chase her away. As the witch approaches, her face haggared and tearstreaked, Galero's mother sets the rib back down then fixes Narcissa with her odd-eyed gaze. Who has done this evil? she demands clearly in the witch's mind.
Narcissa freezes.
Who has done this? The witch hesitates, then hisses, "my sister..." Narcissa's expression changes as she realizes this great bird has not come to pick at the precious bones. She kneels down slowly, watching the enormous, pale grey raven, and asks in a hushed voice, "who are you? You're no animagus..." They eye each other closely for a second, then she thinks, I am...not your enemy. Your sister, however-- Narcissa frowns mightily and makes a sound of disgust. "Bella is a fool," she says quietly, then looks at the grey lady again. Peacocks are sacred to the goddess Hera, white ones doubly so. Gather their bones, Narcissa, and keep them safe. Keep them safe and speak to them a charm, every month at the full moon, a different charm each time. The witch does not question the pale grey raven, suspecting the bird possesses a wisdom far beyond her ken.
She's learned a little something about birds in her time with Lucius Malfoy...
She conjures a cloth and quickly places the bones in the center of it, wraps it tightly, then tucks it carefully into her cloak. The raven takes two of the ghostly peacock tailfeathers, asking the witch if she may have them. Narcissa blinks, then tells her, "of course." The raven looks at the witch for a moment, then thinks, the Dark Lord keeps that snake in the house, does he not? Keeps it close to him? Breathlessly, Narcissa nods. You take the rest of these feathers, Narcissa. You take them and brew them into a potion. I understand it will work best if you cut the bezoar into quarters with a newly forged blade before adding it to the cauldron. Use only the purest water, and brew it until it gives off the aroma of lilies.
The witch's hands tremble as she gathers the feathers, a million questions racing through her mind. Once the potion is complete, pour it into unbreakable vials, and always keep one with you. The feathers gathered, Narcissa looks at the grey lady and asks her, "why are you helping me?" The raven looks at the witch, first with her brown eye, then with her silvery-grey one. Because I do not believe you would have chosen this path if you had known where it would lead you. I do not agree with your Supremist beliefs, but I do not think you are lost. You life has merit, Narcissa, I would not see it sacrificed for a fool's game. And your son needs you.
The witch weeps for her child, so far away from her. When she recovers herself, she looks at the great bird and asks her, "what would you have me do?" To her surprise, the raven laughs. Keep your head, Narcissa! You are a clever woman, and a mother who has already risked much for her son's sake. You are a Slytherin, after all. You know what to do. Narcissa chuckles in spite of herself, and actually manages a smile. "Yes, I am that," she says, then asks, "what are you?" The raven flexes her wings, then picks up the peacock feathers in her beak. I was already old when Hogwarts was founded, though I must say Rowena's House might have suited me. Were I human.
She winks at the witch with her silvery-grey eye, then tells her one last thing before departing. You are not alone, Narcissa, though I am sure it feels that way. Remain strong, and true to your heart, and you will persevere. And I would begin that potion as soon as you procure the blade. She turns then, and raven-runs (which for one of her size is more like a gollop) away from the fountain. She takes wing, flying even further south before she turns back toward home. Narcissa rises slowly, tucking the feathers into her cloak as well, then asks herself where she's going to get a newly-forged knife. As she brushes the grass and the tiny spider from her cloak, she becomes aware that someone is watching her.
She knows who it is without looking.
Rastaban Lestrange.
How she despises him...
"Alone in the moonlight, Cissy?" His voice, and the casual use of her nickname, sets her teeth on edge and makes her fists clench, but at this moment, her displeasure does not show. She turns and heads back toward the manor, keeping herself out of arm's reach. She doesn't know what she'll do right now if he touches her. She doesn't reply, for the words on her tongue might give everything away. Rastaban notices she's cleared away the remains of the peacocks, and he snorts softly. "Still carrying a torch for old Lucius, are you, Cissy?" She rounds on him and meets his gaze directly. "So what if I am? It's none of your concern, Rastaban." He chuckles a little and gives her a wry smile, a smile that makes her stomach turn.
He's attempting to be charming, but he couldn't charm a Muggle.
"Now, Cissy, a powerful witch such as yourself shouldn't be alone, especially not when there are so many eligible options available to you." She draws her cloak closer to her and does not mince words. "I will decide for myself when and if it is time for me to find another partner, Rastaban, thank you very much." She wastes no more time on him, not even to reply to his comment as she leaves. "You know, playing hard to get is quite attractive, Cissy." As she reaches the deck she fingers the handle of her wand and listens for his footfall, but hears nothing. As she passes into the dim light of her home she takes a deep breath, thinks of her son and of what the raven said, and hopes her resolve will not fail her.
Therion dresses, then kneels down beside Malfoy. Are you alright? he asks him, and the fair wizard replies, ask me later, please... then touches Elsbet's face again. "You're afraid of remembering something painful, and we've told you that we will help you work through that when it happens." She nods, but doesn't meet their eyes. "Elsbet," Therion says softly, "you have to trust us...you know that we would never, ever harm you. You know--" she touches his hand, then Malfoy's, and sighs deeply. "You want to go inside my head, right?" The wizards exchange glances, then tell her yes. "But Severus worked in my head," she says, "in my mind, so that no one else could get in and find the important stuff in there."
She laughs a little, trying to make light of it, but it doesn't make her feel any better. "And so no one could hurt me again." Another exchange of glances, and Therion thinks, do you suppose we could turn his work to our advantage? I mean...we know she's got some skill, at least rudimentary skill, in Occlumency; she's blocked out a tremendous amount of her life-memories. What if we can take what she can already do and blend it with what he's done? Malfoy rises and goes to the door. "I'm a bit peckish," he says, "I could do with a nibble or two." He leaves the room and goes to the kitchen, and Therion follows behind. "We don't need his permission," Therion says evenly, "we're equals in this relationship, in this Family. She needs help, and he's not going to push her--"
He sees the dangerously dark look come over Malfoy's face suddenly but the fair wizard doesn't meet the other's gaze. "I've upset you," he says, running his hand through his coppery mane, as he takes a seat at the breakfast bar. Malfoy gives him a single, sharp, shake of his head as he opens the refrigerator. He takes out two covered bowls and sits them on the counter, then two plates. A knife, a fork, and the small loaf of pumpernickle are set out, and Malfoy sighs. "Therry, I know what you're suggesting, and it may be possible. To blend the two so that she can access her memories safely, rather than risking the trauma of a triggering event." Therion nods. "Like reading Lord of the Rings...It would be so nice to sit and read with her, but I never know what might trigger something."
Malfoy fixes his companion a couple of sandwiches with the ham spread and thick tomato halves, then fixes his own. "You know how deeply and desperately he loves her," he says softly. "The issue is that we have no way of knowing what kind of security measures he has set up to keep invaders out." He takes a bite of sandwich, then turns and gets the pumpkin juice out of the fridge, pours two glasses, then puts the pitcher back. "We could do her tremendous harm not knowing what we're doing, and I can't live with that. Neither can you." Therion finishes a sandwich and swallows the last bite hard. "And there's no place on this planet we could hide from him..." He drinks a bit of his juice, then asks, "do you have any idea what he may have done?"
Malfoy tells him no, and they finish their food and juice in silence. That silence is broken by Elsbet's soft voice.
"Remus might know." They look at her with a mix of surprise and shame, but before they can apologize, she's kissed them both then gone to sit outside in their little yard. Malfoy cleans up quickly, then the two wizards follow her out. They find her sitting beside the pond, its surface shimmering with the light of the full moon. She doesn't look up at them, and they almost hesitate to intrude upon her. Finally, she turns slightly to them and pulls her robe up enough to put her feet in the water. They come to the pond and sit down beside her and do the same, and with their feet in the pond, tadpoles investigating their toes, Elsbet tells them how she thinks Remus might be able to help them.
***
It has been quite some time since her last flight to Wiltshire, and the last time was actually just for pleasure. This time, however, there is a sense of urgency. As she comes in toward the vast estate she sees no dementors, yet the presence of Evil hangs in the air all the same. But much to her relief, he is not there. The Dark Lord is not there. He must be travelling, she thinks, and seeks to make the best of the time she has. As she comes in closer, however, her sharp eyes spy a horrible sight. Bones by the fountain... She lands nearby and stares at them as if suddenly petrified; she can't believe what she's seeing.
Cautiously she approaches the bones, and her predatory senses tell her they have not been bare of flesh long. The ground they lay upon is saturated with evil and pain, and she stoops to pick up a bone with great sorrow in her heart. Gently, she lifts a rib in her huge beak, touches it with her tongue, then realizes someone has seen her. The witch looks at her with alarm, then anger, thinking her a common scavenger, and she rushes forward to chase her away. As the witch approaches, her face haggared and tearstreaked, Galero's mother sets the rib back down then fixes Narcissa with her odd-eyed gaze. Who has done this evil? she demands clearly in the witch's mind.
Narcissa freezes.
Who has done this? The witch hesitates, then hisses, "my sister..." Narcissa's expression changes as she realizes this great bird has not come to pick at the precious bones. She kneels down slowly, watching the enormous, pale grey raven, and asks in a hushed voice, "who are you? You're no animagus..." They eye each other closely for a second, then she thinks, I am...not your enemy. Your sister, however-- Narcissa frowns mightily and makes a sound of disgust. "Bella is a fool," she says quietly, then looks at the grey lady again. Peacocks are sacred to the goddess Hera, white ones doubly so. Gather their bones, Narcissa, and keep them safe. Keep them safe and speak to them a charm, every month at the full moon, a different charm each time. The witch does not question the pale grey raven, suspecting the bird possesses a wisdom far beyond her ken.
She's learned a little something about birds in her time with Lucius Malfoy...
She conjures a cloth and quickly places the bones in the center of it, wraps it tightly, then tucks it carefully into her cloak. The raven takes two of the ghostly peacock tailfeathers, asking the witch if she may have them. Narcissa blinks, then tells her, "of course." The raven looks at the witch for a moment, then thinks, the Dark Lord keeps that snake in the house, does he not? Keeps it close to him? Breathlessly, Narcissa nods. You take the rest of these feathers, Narcissa. You take them and brew them into a potion. I understand it will work best if you cut the bezoar into quarters with a newly forged blade before adding it to the cauldron. Use only the purest water, and brew it until it gives off the aroma of lilies.
The witch's hands tremble as she gathers the feathers, a million questions racing through her mind. Once the potion is complete, pour it into unbreakable vials, and always keep one with you. The feathers gathered, Narcissa looks at the grey lady and asks her, "why are you helping me?" The raven looks at the witch, first with her brown eye, then with her silvery-grey one. Because I do not believe you would have chosen this path if you had known where it would lead you. I do not agree with your Supremist beliefs, but I do not think you are lost. You life has merit, Narcissa, I would not see it sacrificed for a fool's game. And your son needs you.
The witch weeps for her child, so far away from her. When she recovers herself, she looks at the great bird and asks her, "what would you have me do?" To her surprise, the raven laughs. Keep your head, Narcissa! You are a clever woman, and a mother who has already risked much for her son's sake. You are a Slytherin, after all. You know what to do. Narcissa chuckles in spite of herself, and actually manages a smile. "Yes, I am that," she says, then asks, "what are you?" The raven flexes her wings, then picks up the peacock feathers in her beak. I was already old when Hogwarts was founded, though I must say Rowena's House might have suited me. Were I human.
She winks at the witch with her silvery-grey eye, then tells her one last thing before departing. You are not alone, Narcissa, though I am sure it feels that way. Remain strong, and true to your heart, and you will persevere. And I would begin that potion as soon as you procure the blade. She turns then, and raven-runs (which for one of her size is more like a gollop) away from the fountain. She takes wing, flying even further south before she turns back toward home. Narcissa rises slowly, tucking the feathers into her cloak as well, then asks herself where she's going to get a newly-forged knife. As she brushes the grass and the tiny spider from her cloak, she becomes aware that someone is watching her.
She knows who it is without looking.
Rastaban Lestrange.
How she despises him...
"Alone in the moonlight, Cissy?" His voice, and the casual use of her nickname, sets her teeth on edge and makes her fists clench, but at this moment, her displeasure does not show. She turns and heads back toward the manor, keeping herself out of arm's reach. She doesn't know what she'll do right now if he touches her. She doesn't reply, for the words on her tongue might give everything away. Rastaban notices she's cleared away the remains of the peacocks, and he snorts softly. "Still carrying a torch for old Lucius, are you, Cissy?" She rounds on him and meets his gaze directly. "So what if I am? It's none of your concern, Rastaban." He chuckles a little and gives her a wry smile, a smile that makes her stomach turn.
He's attempting to be charming, but he couldn't charm a Muggle.
"Now, Cissy, a powerful witch such as yourself shouldn't be alone, especially not when there are so many eligible options available to you." She draws her cloak closer to her and does not mince words. "I will decide for myself when and if it is time for me to find another partner, Rastaban, thank you very much." She wastes no more time on him, not even to reply to his comment as she leaves. "You know, playing hard to get is quite attractive, Cissy." As she reaches the deck she fingers the handle of her wand and listens for his footfall, but hears nothing. As she passes into the dim light of her home she takes a deep breath, thinks of her son and of what the raven said, and hopes her resolve will not fail her.