This was written for Hogwarts, where I am a Slytherin (sneaky serpenty snek), Assignment #1 of Term 11. Alchemy Task #3: Write about a Muggle and a wizard (witch) working together.

Summary: Narcissa didn't know what compelled her to visit Lily Potter's grave, but visit it she does. She meets someone, learns there's more to life than being an obedient little pureblooded wife, and makes a decision that will change everything.

Warnings: Canon character death (and mourning), tough relationships, divorce/separation. This is light compared to most of my stuff XD

Word Count: 2170

Who We Find (When We Let Go)

Narcissa took a deep breath as she looked down at the grave. She didn't know what could have possibly compelled her to come here.

Maybe it was the memory of the young girl with vibrant red hair, only in her second year at Hogwarts, standing taller in the face of animosity than Narcissa ever could. Narcissa had never been hated for her blood—Lily had. Insults were thrown at Lily on a daily basis. She was physically pushed around. She never once crumbled.

Maybe it was the fact that they both had sons who were too young to understand what death is. Draco was at home with the nanny, but seeing the grave littered with messages of support for Harry made Narcissa want to hold on to her own little boy and never let him go.

Maybe it was because she felt somewhat at fault. Sure, she had done nothing to the Potters herself, but Lucius had joined Voldemort, and Narcissa hadn't done anything to stop him. She could've taken a stand against the Dark Lord. She hadn't, though. She had stayed the perfect, silent little pureblooded wife. If only she had done something, maybe Lily would still be alive.

"You're blaming yourself, aren't you," a voice said from behind Narcissa, shocking her out of her thoughts. She turned around quickly to see a young woman, maybe a few years younger than her, with timid shoulders and dark hair. There was something familiar about her that Narcissa couldn't quite place.

She raised an eyebrow. "So what if I am. Are you going to tell me to stop?" she asked, looking over the woman once more and realizing that she must be from the other half of Lily's life. The Muggle half, considering the way she was dressed in faded jeans and an oversized men's undershirt. This woman looked like hell.

"Of course not," the woman scoffed, wrapping her arms around her stomach. Her arms were bony. "I'm blaming myself too, and I certainly didn't kill her. I don't believe you did either."

Narcissa was silent for a moment, and the woman seemed to take that as an invitation to step up beside her. "How did you know her?" Narcissa asked, needing to break the heavy silence that had descended between them.

"She's my sister."

Narcissa wasn't expecting that. She spoke carelessly. "I didn't know she had a sister."

The woman scoffed, rolling her bloodshot eyes and prompting Narcissa to glance at her. "Of course you didn't. I wasn't special like her nor was I included in her special life," she said, her tone hostile. However, she seemed to physically deflate. "I wasn't a very good sister either. Maybe…" she trailed off.

"Narcissa Malfoy," she said, turning to the woman and holding her hand up. She wasn't sure what prompted her to do it, to ask this Muggle to shake her hand. It went against everything she was taught.

Maybe she was doing it for Lily.

Lily's sister eyed Narcissa for a moment. Fear crossed her features, then curiosity, and finally desperation—Narcissa wondered why that was there, but she didn't question it openly. With a nod, the woman grabbed Narcissa's hand in a surprisingly strong shake.

"Petunia," she said. She paused, seeming to contemplate something, before straightening her back. "Petunia Evans."

…

The next time Narcissa went to Lily's grave, Petunia was already there.

The woman was wearing the same faded jeans and men's undershirt, both clothing items stained and wrinkled. Her hair was tugged up into what could only be considered a messy bun, though it seemed the majority of her hair was falling out of it, and she wore no makeup.

She was curled up beside Lily's grave, fast asleep.

Narcissa felt as if she were intruding, but she couldn't bring herself to turn away. She wasn't about to leave this woman alone and vulnerable.

So she stayed, sitting on a bench not too far away, just waiting for Petunia to wake up.

It didn't take very long—maybe Petunia could feel eyes watching her. There was embarrassment displayed on the woman's face, but Narcissa waved her hand, as if brushing the matter aside.

"Come back to my manor. We'll have some tea," Narcissa insisted after walking over to Petunia and reaching a hand down to help her up.

Petunia took her hand and her offer. Narcissa smiled.

…

It took Petunia a fairly long time to get used to Side-Along Apparition, but after a week of Narcissa offering her a hand and some tea, she was able to go with Narcissa without throwing up immediately after getting to the manor.

By the end of week two, Narcissa wondered what her life would be like without Petunia. It wasn't as if they were close friends. They were just… consistent.

Their tea time was virtually uninterrupted. Lucius would never have stood for it, but he was too caught up in ensuring he didn't go to Azkaban for following the Dark Lord to notice. Social status was far more important to him than his home life.

Narcissa was alright with that.

While they had plenty of time to talk, teacups in hand (Draco occasionally bouncing on Narcissa's leg), Narcissa didn't learn much about Petunia.

The only thing she really knew was that she was struggling to keep her garden alive, and that she could only spend an hour with Narcissa at a time. Her marriage also seemed to be on the rocks, as she wore her wedding ring with the diamond facing into her palm instead of out to the world. Narcissa didn't push. She figured Petunia would tell her in her own time.

To the same extent, Narcissa was just as secretive. She didn't talk about Lucius, nor did she talk about the war that was seemingly over. The only thing she talked about was Hogwarts, each day telling Petunia a different story about the classes and castle. She talked about magic, in general, as well.

Petunia listened with eager ears, always seeming a little embarrassed about her curiosity for the wizarding world. Her embarrassment didn't stop her from asking questions, though. She asked all the questions she could think of—what did this spell feel like, or what did this spell do.

Narcissa loved it.

She loved sharing something that the woman listening found so interesting. She loved being the one with the knowledge. She loved having Petunia's eyes on her, waiting with bated breath.

By week three of their daily tea time, Narcissa looked forward to nothing else. All that mattered was sharing her world with Petunia.

The first day of week four, when they met beside Lily's grave, Petunia was looking more haggard than ever. She was standing behind a twin stroller, the shades covering two young figures. Petunia, while having begun to dress herself up in nicer, albeit Muggle clothing, was back in her faded jeans and oversized men's undershirt.

Narcissa frowned.

"I'm sorry," Petunia said, looking like she hadn't slept in hours. "Mrs. Figg couldn't watch them today, so…" she trailed off. Tears had begun to well up in her eyes, filling Narcissa with immediate concern.

She had to think on her feet—there was no way she could Apparate all three of the Muggles. "How about we go to your house today?" she asked, trying to school her features into a calm and encouraging look. "I'll go back home and get Draco and some tea, then the three little ones can play, alright?"

Petunia seemed a little shocked, maybe a little overwhelmed, but nodded anyways. "That would… be lovely," she managed, giving Narcissa a small smile.

After learning where Petunia lived, and warning her about Floo magic, Narcissa hurried home, gathering Draco and her favorite teas. And she ran into Lucius.

"Where have you been?" he asked, his tone harsh, as it had consistently been since the beginning of the Dark Lord's rise.

Narcissa shrugged him off, holding Draco close. "I'm meeting with a friend," she said, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she saw Lucius's eyes grow suspicious. "A friend from back in France," she quickly lied.

It was a convincing enough lie, her family had plenty of French ties, and while the Malfoy's had French ties as well, she didn't think Lucius would press her on who the friend was.

Fortunately, she was right. He wouldn't have stood for her meeting with a Muggle.

He let her go with a wave of his hand, and she smiled cautiously, sweeping off into the living room. She held Draco, stepped into the fireplace, and called out, "Number 4, Privet Drive."

…

It took a week of the women bypassing Lily's grave and simply meeting at Petunia's home for Petunia to open up to Narcissa.

"My husband left me," she said quietly one afternoon, wearing a pink dress. She had started dressing up a little more, though Narcissa could tell she wasn't as comfortable in nice clothes. She wore them to hold up an image of social status.

Narcissa was quiet for a moment, returning her gaze to her teacup. She was searching for the right response.

Petunia interrupted her before she could even open her mouth. "Thank you."

The witch looked up at Petunia in confusion, not understanding why the woman would be thanking her.

Petunia interrupted her thoughts once more. "For… Well… Since meeting you, I've slowly been able to put my life back together." She smiled, though it was a sad sort of smile. "I know you weren't aware of it, but I've seen our tea time as a way of us… working together? It has made me come to terms with how I failed Lily, and it has also made me heal."

It took a moment, but Narcissa finally smiled. "I'm glad I've been able to help," she said.

She would have continued, mentioned how nice it was to have an honest to Salazar friend, but commotion struck the three two-year-olds playing in the play pen beside the couch. Dudley had stolen Harry's hat, and Draco was trying is best to retrieve it from the larger boy's clutches. Narcissa would have laughed at their antics if Harry hadn't been silently crying. She couldn't see his face, but she could tell by the subtle shake of his shoulders.

While Petunia stood up to retrieve the hat, as well as scold Dudley, Narcissa picked up Harry with the intent of bouncing him on her knee. It was once he was in place that she saw it.

The lightning scar, spanning across Harry's forehead. It was red-lined and angry looking.

"Oh," she whispered, eyes slightly widened. She hadn't thought this was Lily's Harry, though she cursed herself for not catching on sooner. She had thought Harry and Dudley were twins.

Petunia sighed and stood up, shaking the hat out before slipping it onto Harry's head. When she saw Narcissa's expression, she smiled wryly. "He's why Vernon left," she explained, sitting down. "My husband… my ex… told me he wouldn't stand for any magic nonsense, so I told him I wouldn't stand for his nonsense. Left the night Lily died."

Getting over her shock, Narcissa began bouncing Harry like she originally intended. She reached for Petunia's hand almost out of instinct.

That's when Petunia started crying. "He left me… alone to raise two children. I don't know how—"

"You won't be doing it alone," Narcissa interrupted, her voice calm as she squeezed Petunia's hand. "How about we work together on this, properly this time, okay?"

…

It was the most impulsive decision Narcissa had ever made, and it was also the most important.

She didn't allow herself to think about it. She didn't allow herself to worry, or fret, or lose sleep. She made it the day she learned about Harry Potter—the day she swore she would never leave Petunia alone.

Maybe it was her way of making up for her passive part in Lily's death. Maybe it wasn't. She couldn't know for certain. But she did know where she was meant to be.

She managed to pack everything that she cared about before Lucius got home from work. Half of her wardrobe and all of Draco's room, along with some books, her teas, some family heirlooms, and other various nicknacks, all fit in her magically altered trunk. She didn't take the Floo, not wanting to startle Petunia, and instead flew by broom, trunk shrunk and safe in her pocket and Draco settled in front of her.

With the cloud coverage and the disillusionment charm she had cast, she wasn't worried about being spotted by Muggles.

It was dark when she knocked on the door of Number 4 Privet Drive. Petunia answered, back to wearing her worn jeans and old shirt. "Narcissa?" she questioned, eyebrows furrowed.

Narcissa gave a weak smile, willing herself not to doubt her decision. "Working together would be much easier if we live together, yes?"

Relief seemed to wash over Petunia's features, and she opened the door a little wider, letting Narcissa in.