Title: Lineage

Author: Julian-Juliana

Rating: T+ (Some of the content may not be suitable for those under thirteen)

Summary: Following the unexpected death of their son, Lucius and Narcissa embark on an investigation after coming across a series of questionable bank statements belonging to Draco. The investigation will lead the Malfoys on a journey for closure. Much to their chagrin, an inconvenient presence from the past joins them, and they must all learn to adapt for the sake of an eight year old boy.

Warning: Major Character Death, references to sex, language, and mention of drugs and drug-use.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot and a handful of characters. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.

Exhaling softly and looking down at the teacup placed perfectly on the saucer, Narcissa Malfoy gingerly looped her fingers around the steaming beverage and brought it to her lips. The raspberry and lemon flavor calmed her that particular morning. Yet, it was not what she needed in the slightest.

The liquid in the cup trembled from her shaking hands, so she put the tea back on her saucer and let her forearms rest beside it, framing her drink. She scoured the room with troubled blue eyes and tried to remember the last time she took her late morning tea in the Dining Room.

Never, she recalled. She usually drank her tea in one of the tearooms, her favorite being the Glass Room where all the walls were pristinely washed windows overlooking the garden. But it was nearly November, and Narcissa had not felt like informing the Garden Keep to cast a Weather Resistant Charm on the property this year.

She sipped at her tea once more and then put the half-empty cup back, calling for her house-elf, "Mippy!"

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy?" The elf bowed deeply in submission after appearing.

"I'm done with my tea."

"Yes, Mistress Malfoy."

Narcissa stepped away from the table, weighed down by the inquiring glares and glances of the portraits encasing her. Ignoring them, she exited the dining room and walked the empty hallways of the manor, only the preserving of artificial life decorating the walls. Many of the portrait occupants whispered as she passed them. Muttered words muffled from her husband's ancestors flung about her but only one sentence reached her ears clearly.

"She should have had two."

Her heels clicked on the cold, hard surface of the marble flooring leading to her husband's office, her shoes causing echoes to bounce off the walls and alert to any who listened, the Mistress of Malfoy Manor was near.

Seeing the double doors separating her from her husband, Narcissa remembered a time when she had been young and timid enough to feel uneasy when entering Lucius's office without permission or a knock. Those times were gone, having been swept away by the cruel and persistent ticking of the clock. She gripped both door knobs and pushed them open to see her husband frowning over scrolls of parchment. As she walked closer to his desk where he sat, he acted as if he had not noticed her.

She waved her wand and moved a chair adjacently from her husband and sat down slowly. Opening her mouth, she immediately closed it, unsure how to tell him what was on her mind. Nevertheless, she pressed forward after a few seconds. "I saw the healer this morning."

Her husband's frown was still in place, giving no insight as to what he may or may not be thinking. Finally after more than thirty seconds of excruciating silence, he drawled, "And?"

Hurriedly, Narcissa fumbled over her words. "She said it was impossible, and if it were not, a pregnancy would be deathly on my body. She informed me that I have officially passed any hopeful stage of fertility. Lucius, Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

Clicking his teeth in response, she gazed upon her wringing hands, eyeing her wedding ring wistfully and possessively. Letting a jagged breath escape her, she voiced her thoughts. "I understand what this means."

"Hmm?" Lucius looked at her for the first time since she entered the office.

Upset he was making her spell out the situation for him, she scoffed and said, "I know, dear husband, that you will want to acquire another wife."

"I can barely handle one, darling. Why would I want another one?"

"Because." Narcissa blinked in befuddlement. "I can't give you a child. You haven't an heir."

Lucius leaned back into his chair and pursed his lips amusedly. She was unsure what he found funny, but this was not a joking matter.

"So you think I'll rid you for a ripe and buxom, rounded-hipped woman? I dare say, never will I do such a thing. Darling, we have been married for nearly thirty-two years, and for the next thirty-two, we shall remain so."

Heart leaping towards the back of her throat, Narcissa fumbled out with a blush, "But what about your heir?"

Sorrow replaced the playful twinkle in her husband's eyes, the spark dying like a put-out flame, and his loving smirk he only saved for her was gone, as well.

"Let us not worry of such things, my sweet. It is Halloween, a time of celebration. We shall save the dreariness for another day."

Narcissa nodded in response, wondering how she was going to pretend how downtrodden and sullen she felt. Lucius was better at hiding his emotions, and she thought at a particular point in her life, she had been excellent, too. Recent events had changed her, and so easily tears came and progressed into long sobbing fits.

"How about a small jaunt to Diagon Alley tonight? We've decided not throw a Halloween Ball this year, so let us be the ones to go out and enjoy ourselves. Diagon Alley is always pleasant on Halloween night."

Fingers feeling achy and loose from being consistently wrung, she wondered if maybe a bone or two had cracked at her husband's suggestion. "I don't know, Lucius. There will be children there. You understand it's hard for me."

"I know." Lucius smiled tiredly. "I know, but you cannot cut yourself off from the world forever. It's unhealthy, and if he were here-"

"But he's not here," Narcissa cut in sharply. "He's not here, and he should be."

Lucius picked up his quill and dabbed the tip into some ink, returning his gaze to the parchment before him on his desk. "We will be leaving at six o' clock sharp, and I expect you to be ready," he said calmly.

Glowering with a huff, she folded her arms protectively over her ribs. "I don't like being told what to do, Lucius. If I want to stay home tonight, I will."

Quill stopping with a wrinkled forehead, Lucius tapped the tip of the writing utensil on the parchment as if he were figuring out an equation of sort. Narcissa watched as he once again leaned back into his chair, stroking his chin.

"What's wrong?" she asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Hmm?" Lucius stared at his wife with raised eyebrows. "Oh, it's probably nothing, but I've ruffled through Draco's bank statements these past few days."

"Are they not adding up correctly?"

"No, no. They are, but I'm finding some things odd."

"Like what?" Narcissa went over to her husband's side and peered over his shoulder. He splayed out some other scrolls next to the one he was writing on and pointed to a date on each one of them.

"These bank statements are a couple of years old," she said with a frown. "Why are you looking at Draco's statements from so long ago?"

"Because I've already gone through the one's before, and there all stating the same thing," Lucius pointed out and set his quill down with weariness.

"Which is?"

He rubbed his chin once more and narrowed his eyes. "Like I stated earlier, it's most likely nothing but does pique my curiosity. On the first of every month, fifteen hundred galleons are automatically withdrawn from Draco's account."

"That's…odd. Does it explain why?"

"No, but I will set up a private meeting with Draco's personal accountant as soon as possible. Whatever it is that Draco had committed himself financially needs to be seized. In fact, all of his accounts need to be cancelled. I'll Floo to Mr. Berry's office this very moment."

"Would you like me to come?" asked Narcissa, smoothing the skirt of her robe.

"Are you sure you want to? Are you feeling up to it?"

Narcissa hesitantly nodded, and Lucius guided her to the fireplace.

"You are unaware of where the money is going?" asked Lucius to Mr. Berry, a dastardly looking goblin with sharp, stained teeth.

"Oh, I know where it's going." Mr. Berry nodded confidently and pushed a square of parchment towards the husband and wife across his desk. He pointed to a series of numbers with a wide grin. "It's going there."

Lucius thinned his lips in impatience. "And what is that?"

"Well, Sir, it's an account number."

"An account number," stated Narcissa like she was trying to clarify as to what she heard. "Whose account?"

Mr. Berry scrunched his brow and sucked in his lips like he was severely contemplating his reply. "Here's the trouble with that question…I don't know. When your son came to me with this number eight years ago, he didn't provide any other information."

"Mr. Berry, please…" Lucius smiled politely.

"Can we at least stop the automatic withdrawals?" Narcissa inquired. "Obviously, what Draco was paying for, he no longer needs to."

The accountant clasped his small, grubby hands together and said, "Yes we could do that, but maybe…you might want to investigate as to where the money is going first."

"How can I?" muttered Lucius. "You've given me nothing to investigate but a number to which means nothing to me.

Mr. Berry clucked his tongue and bared his teeth in an uncomely smile. "I will let you in on a little secret, Mr. Malfoy, and I hope I have your trust. Despite your son's death, it is still illegal for me to provide discreet information, especially when this matter concerns another account."

"You have our utmost respect and trust, Mr. Berry, as well as our confidence," Narcissa gently spoke.

"Good," clipped Mr. Berry "So in banking, you may know each country has their own set of numbers: nine-zero-five, which means the United States. The next three numbers depends on the area or district: two-three-five is the next set of numbers. These numbers are code for Massachusetts. The next three numbers say which bank the account lies in: seven-two-four means Xelcon. There is only one Xelcon bank in all of Massachusetts, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Salem is where the money is going. Unfortunately, the rest of the numbers attached to the account are meaningless and will in no way help you in identifying the holder."

"But it's a start." Lucius stroked his chin pensively.

Narcissa whispered to him. "I don't think it really matters who the holder of the account is. Fifteen hundred galleons are not worth a curiosity check. You said it was nothing, and I think so, too. Thinking about it, I would not be perturbed in the slightest to find that Draco was investing in a business or a Quidditch team and tied up in a sort of contract."

"We'll never know until we know, 'Cissa. This was obviously important to our son, and I want to know. If it's a business, then perhaps I would want to put in my share. If it's a superb Quidditch team, perhaps they need funds. Our son had a spectacular eye for the best, and there is no reason what was once his, cannot be mine. He was my boy."

Narcissa's throat swelled. Her husband always knew which words were the right ones to say. Dabbing with gloved fingers underneath her eyes, she nodded. "Okay. We'll see where this leads."

"Excellent," Lucius crisply replied and turned to Mr. Berry. "Now if I could just have that account number…"

Mr. Berry grinned nastily. "But of course…with conditions."

"Fancy a trip to Salem?" asked Lucius when returning home through his office Floo, his wife following behind him. She untied the strings of her robe and then paused with pursed lips and wide eyes.

"So soon? Shouldn't we get in touch with a few of our contacts over there first? They might be able to fetch some information for us."

"We can do that when we arrive."

"Or we could hire a private investigator?" suggested Narcissa. "There's no need to leave home. I hear The Sandberg Brothers are quite good, have their own business and such. They're quick and would most likely have all of our questions answered with in a few days."

"Come now, Narcissa. This is not a situation that requires a professional investigator. We only want to know what our son was funding, not where he buried the body." Lucius chuckled darkly and poured himself a glassful of firewhiskey

Narcissa let out a ragged breath and sat down in the nearest chair. Ever since Draco's death, weariness had plagued her limbs, robbing her body and mind of energy she once had. She knew she was not a young and spry girl anymore, but she had never felt old until burying her son.

"Is something the matter?" asked Lucius to his wife.

"I'm…" She rubbed the spaced between her eyebrows. "I miss him. I know you do, too, but I'm trying to be all right. I know I don't want to go anywhere ever, and it's not healthy, but you want to dillydally in Draco's past, so you can recreate him in a sense, and it will not work."

"You're being absurd. I just want to know-"

"Why?"

"Why don't you?"

"Because it doesn't matter. Draco's gone and everything he left behind does not matter without him. This should mean nothing to us. We should stop the withdraws, cancel his accounts and move on."

"In time we will, but think of this as a business investment or a will from Draco. It can be one of his last presents to us."

"Stop!" shouted Narcissa as she covered her ears, tears streaming down her face. "Stop doing that. Stop saying those things. You're just saying them, so I'll see things your way."

"Of course I am. Is it working?"

"Yes! Now stop!" Burying her head in her hands, she heard Lucius set down his glass and shuffle towards her. When feeling his hands on her shoulders, rubbing tenseness out of her posture, she leaned towards his touch with an annoyed glare.

"You love me, you know," he told her with a small grin.

The frowning corners of her lips twitched. "Mmm. You have your purposes."