Chapter 17

The courtroom was dark and cold. Large round glass balls were spotted around the chamber, little flames flickering inside, casting their dull eerie glow around the dungeon room. They created long dark shadows, making ones face look unnaturally pale, highlighting the shadows under the eyes and cheekbones. It made us look like ghosts, but not the real kind with their soft glowing silver light, but the kind one found in old movies, with gaunt macabre faces and which moaned and howled all through the night making you shiver in your bed.

The Minister for Magic was settled in a tall ornate wooden chair, dressed in his long black judicial robes. He wore a solemn expression, making him look tired and worn out, as if it was all becoming rather too much for him. He looked old. It was widely rumoured that he would be stepping down as Minister. He had made a fool of him self. We had made a fool of him.

In the middle of the room, surrounded by the steep tiered seating in which we, and the numerous Ministry officials sat, were a number of hard dark wooden chairs, with chains encasing their occupants in them. I recognised them all, my husbands friends. And in the middle, was Lucius, his face already a deathly grey, his entire body shaking. His hands gripped the arms of the chair so fiercely it looked as though they must have been welded to the wood and iron. They had been in Azkaban less than a month, but already some looked dangerously close to breaking point. Their faces, having been deprived of sunlight, were turning the greyish purple of death, their skin becoming sallow, their eyes red and blood shot. Their clothes where already growing too big for them, weight dripping off them like wax from a melting candle. They were trembling, nerves close to snapping. And Lucius was no exception. Though he tried to sit tall, grasping at his last shreds of pride, I could still see him trembling.

Draco sat rigidly besides me, his face a blank mask betraying no emotion, just as I had taught him. His fists however were clenched tight as he struggled to contain his bitterness, his anger, and, though I knew he would never say it out loud, his fear. But only I could see all of this. Sabina on the other hand was struggling to hide her emotions in order to appear strong. I couldn't blame her. The courtroom was a frightening place, especially for a six year old. Her hands were shaking, her eyes, wide with fear, were glistening with unshed tears. I took her hand discreetly in my own and held it tightly. We must not appear broken. We must look strong.

Fudge cleared his throat. I could see the betrayal he felt shining through his eyes. He had trusted Lucius, and we had abused that trust freely, and without regret.

"All those in favour of finding the defendants guilty of all charges?" Every hand in the room rose, then, so did his. I hadn't expected anything different.

"The Ministry of Magic finds you guilty of conspiring with He Who Must Not Be Names against the Ministry of Magic and against the wizarding population. You are here by sentenced to a life time's imprisonment in the wizarding prison of Azkaban." As his hammer came down the loud "bang" of wood on wood made Sabina jump. I closed my eyes and sighed.

When the door of the courtroom opened we were ambushed by a gaggle of loud voices and bright flashing lights. A tidal wave of reporters and their photographers came crashing down upon us. I took my children's hands in my own and walked. People jumped out of our was as I powered through the sea of vultures, all of whom were shouting questions, snapping photos and asking for statements. I stepped into the great gilded fireplace, paused to look blankly at the cameras so that they could get their damned photo, and then dropped the flu powder. I called for home.

We appeared in the fireplace of the main living room. Draco stormed out of the grate, his anger, I could see, was close to erupting.

"How could this happen?" he demanded. "How could he let this happen!" he shouted slamming his fists against the wall. His anger was infectious.

"He didn't let anything happen Draco," I snapped following him out of the grate. "Your father only wanted to do what was best for this family."

"How is this what's best?" he shouted. "The Dark Lord hates us and now we are left unprotected whilst Father is locked up in bloody Azkaban!"

"Don't talk about your father like that!" Rage boiled up inside me and I found that I too was shouting. "Do you think he planned for this to happen? Are you really so insolent as to truly believe that he planned to get locked up in Azkaban? He loves us more than anything."

"Not as much as he loves the Dark Lord obviously."

"How can you even think that!" I raged. "He was trying to protect us by gaining favour with the Dark Lord."

"Yeah?" said Draco incredulously "Well he fucked that one up didn't he!" Then, I snapped.

"How dare you!" I screamed. "You have no idea . . ."

"Stop it!" Silence rang across the room. Tears were streaming down Sabina's face, her hands trembling violently as they covered her ears. She hadn't even moved from the fireplace. "Please stop," she cried. My anger vanished as quickly as it had risen.

"Sweet heart, I'm sorry." I moved forwards but as I did so she shrank backwards. I had frightened her. And I hated my self for it.

"Darling . . ."

"Oh bloody hell why does it even matter?" Draco interrupted, grabbing my attention once more. "She's not even really part of this family. She's not a Malfoy." He stalked forwards so the he was towering over her as he glared down at her tear stricken face. "I don't even know why you kept her," he spat. At his words Sabina fled the room before I could do anything to stop her. I looked disgustedly at my son.

"Out," I said, my voice cold, like stone. "Get out of my sight," I hissed. And he left.

It took me almost an hour for me to calm my self, but eventually I forced my self to venture up stairs. I walked down the corridor and pushed open my sons door without knocking (he had given up all his rights to privacy after that frightful little display) and found him standing by his fireplace, staring unseeingly into the crackling flames. It was a habit he had inherited from me.

"Have you calmed yourself?" My voice was colder than ice. He nodded, not looking up. "Are you able to talk rationally?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"Speak up Draco don't mumble," I snapped. I was still furious with him.

"Yes mother," he said, turning to face me.

"Sit down." He did as he was told, knowing better than to anger me further at this point.

"That," I said, all but spitting the word, "was disgusting." He looked down, avoiding my sharp gaze. "I have never seen you behave in such a repulsive way, especially when talking to family." I said, stressing the last word. "I did not raise you to behave in such a way towards your family. You must never talk to your sister like that, no matter what the circumstances. Your father would have been disappointed." At the mention of his father anger flickered across Draco's face.

"This is all Potter's fault," he growled. I couldn't help but agree. Potter and his band of misfits had destroyed everything for us.

"Be that as it may," I said, "you had no reason to attack Sabina like that. She is your sister weather you like it or not." Silence lingered between us for a moment. I let out a little sigh. I lowered myself to his level so that I could look into his light grey eyes. His fathers eyes.

"We didn't simply adopt her because we felt like it Draco. It's your fathers fault her parents are dead and I am the one who saved her life. She has no one else. And if that doesn't matter to you then fine, but her life is now in my hands. There was nothing else we could have done."

"I know," he said. "I was just angry."

"You must apologise," I said as I stood up. I made for the door and stopped when I reached it, looking back at him sternly. "There will be consequences for your actions," I added. He looked at me smugly for a moment. His father had always been the one to enforce discipline.

"Oh yeah?" I looked around his room, and then flicked out my wand and caught his Nimbus 2001 in my free hand. His eyes narrowed.

"You can have it back when I see fit," I said, and it vanished.

I could hear Sabina's crying from outside her room. The sound of it tugged at my heart. I opened the door quietly and slipped inside.

"Go away," she mumbled thickly into her pillow.

"No." I sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed. As I went to stroke her blond curls from her tear stained face she batted my hand away angrily.

"Sabina please don't," I said tiredly. "Don't be rude to me."

"Why not?" she yelled. "Draco is."

"And he was punished for it," I said sternly. "It's very unattractive and being rude gets you no where. A Malfoy is not rude Sabina."

"Well I'm not a Malfoy am I," she said sadly, tears shining in her dark blue eyes. "And your not my real mother," she whispered. "And I'm not your real daughter." I sighed heavily and looked into her beautiful little face.

"Sabina, do you love me?" I asked. She nodded. "And I have never asked you to call me Mother, or Mama, yet you still do." Again she nodded. "And why is that?"

"Because," she thought for a moment, "Because you tuck me in at night, and read me stories, and teach me piano, and do other mummy stuff," she said, making me smile.

"So you see," I said, "I am your mother, and you are my daughter, even though my blood doesn't run through your veins."

"But how can I be a Malfoy if I have no Malfoy blood?" she asked. I smiled and said,

"I have no Malfoy blood." She looked at me, confusion spreading across her little face, creasing her brow. "I was born Narcissa Black." I explained. "I have Black blood, so I am a Black, but I am also a Malfoy because I married Lucius. Your blood is pure and I love you just as much I love Draco. Lucius loves you too. I am a Malfoy, just as much as you are."

"I love you Mama," she said, and I pulled her into my arms and held her tight.

"I love you too." She sighed, her fingers touching the silver locket at her neck.

"He's never coming back is he? Draco told me about prison. People never come back."

"Yes he will," Draco said from the door, making us both look up.

"But you said . . ."

"If Aunt Bellatrix can do it, so can Father." He said stubbornly. She looked at him hopefully.

"Really?

"Really."

"Do you promise?"

"I promise." He said.