Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

The events in this chapter have been taking place since the Chamber of Secrets. The timeline of this chapter is from Sally dying to the end of Chapter 24, bringing you up to date with what Narcissa has been doing with her time.

To Master the Dark

Chapter 25 - Interlude - Narcissa Malfoy

Interlude - Narcissa Malfoy

She didn't like Albania. She was used to opulence, extravagance, comfort.

But Black blood ran through her veins. If she had to chase shadows, exhaust rumours, track down ghost - she would, and she would prevail.

And she did. She finally narrowed her search. One dark ritual and copious amounts of blood later, Narcissa had achieved her goal.

She made contact with the Dark Lord.

(0)

She built a plan, even as she built a homunculus for Voldemort. It took time, the Dark Lord was barely alive.

Once the Dark Lord had a body, he could hold a wand, cast magic. But he needed her, was dependent on her.

One day she stunned the snake that followed the Dark Lord everywhere. She placed the Dark Lord's wand out of his limited reach.

He didn't like it. Not one bit. But he heard her out. He had no choice, she knew this. If he attacked her wandlessly, she would give him up to Dumbledore, this she swore.
He agreed, she gave him back his wand.

They both cast spells, magical oaths that would see them lose their magic if they ever broke it.

Narcissa would help resurrect Voldemort. He knew the necessary rituals, but he needed her to carry it out. In return, it would be her privilege to kill Harry Potter. Voldemort would never hurt, torture or kill Narcissa or her son, Draco - directly or indirectly.

Once Potter was dead, Narcissa would take Draco and leave England, along with enough of the Malfoy fortune to allow her to live like she had before. The rest of the money would be Voldemort's to use as he wished.

Narcissa knew Voldemort hated her right then. She had forced him into something - and Voldemort hated being forced into anything at all. She had threatened him. In due time Voldemort was sure to figure a way around the extensive wording they had used, but she was hoping to be far away by then.

England could have Voldemort. Voldemort could have England. They deserved each other.

(0)

She met Sirius at Florean Fortescue's ice cream shop. He looked much better than he had in the pictures she'd seen. In the pictures, his hair was long and dirty, his beard wild, face pale and thin.

Sirius had cut his hair, trimmed his beard. Colour had returned to his skin. He still looked a bit haggard...but it were his eyes that spoke volumes. Once those eyes had sparkled with mischief and charm...now they were dull, tired. There was a certain hauntedness to them.

Everything considered, he was looking quite well for someone who had been incarcerated in the very depths of Azkaban for over a decade.

"Hello Sirius."

"Narcissa," the man returned, his tone lacking any warmth.

They walked to the counter, just as they had done many times, many years ago.

Florean approached, barely hiding his curiosity as seeing the two of them together.

"A double chocolate please," Narcissa said. "With sprinkles."

By her side Sirius stiffened.

"Peanut butter and strawberry please," he said.

They took their ice creams, walked over to a table and sat down. For a long moment, the cousins looked at each other.

Then Sirius slid the bowl of ice-cream across to her. Narcissa did the same.

"You haven't forgotten," Sirius remarked, his voice low.

An idle flick of her wand raised a privacy ward.

"Neither have you," she said.

"How could I?" Sirius chuckled - and there was a hint of genuine mirth. "How many times did we come here, order exactly the same thing, eat at exactly this table?"

"Many times. One too many times for your poor teeth."

Sirius laughed, then caught himself. Seeming to realize who he was talking with, he immediately stopped laughing, his eyes boring into hers.

"What do you want Narcissa?"

"You used to call me Cissy," she whispered.

"That was before…" Sirius shook his head.

"When you were expelled from the house, I protested," Narcissa met his eyes. "Mother slapped me. I didn't protest again."

"What do you want?" Sirius repeated. But he was no longer looking at her, he was looking down at his ice cream. She was dragging up old memories, clawing them out painfully, excruciatingly.

And she knew it. Inside, Narcissa smiled. He was so easy, always had been…

"Sirius, I didn't know you weren't a death eater."

"Lies," he hissed. "You married Lucius Malfoy, You-Know-Who's right hand man!"

"Sirius, please." She swallowed, allowing her voice to crack ever so slightly. "Just hear me out."

For a few seconds, she thought she'd gambled too much, that Sirius was going to leave. Then he sighed, and she knew she'd won.

"You have two minutes," he said.

"Lucius was handsome, he was charming. You know how I - how we- were brought up - why wouldn't I be swept off my feet? I jumped at the proposal. We married. I thought ours was a real marriage. It wasn't. To Lucius, it was a marriage of convenience. He treated me well, but there was no passion there, no love…

"And then The Dark Lord came. A charming, powerful man. He never marked me, but I was married to his right hand man - and that was enough. I didn't realize how brutal he was, what his true intentions were, how twisted and cruel he really was. I don't think any Death Eater truly did. Not till the war broke out in full - and by then it was too late. Far too late.

"I couldn't leave - how could I? We still had desires, Lucius and I - and we used each other. He had mistresses too - but I only had him. He wanted an heir, I wanted a child - and so I got pregnant…

"I never knew what was happening, what his plans were. I didn't even know who was in the Inner Circle - I only knew Lucius and Bella were. They always wore masks. If there was a meeting, I'd be locked on the second floor. I probably only saw The Dark Lord with my own eyes four or five times. Lucius never spoke of the war. I had no information, a prisoner in my own house.

"When you were arrested, I asked Lucius. He said he didn't know whether or not you were a Death Eater - but that there had been a mole, high up in Dumbledore's ranks. He would have had to be close to the Potters for Voldemort to break the wards on their house.

"Sirius, I didn't love Lucius. But I loved my son - I love Draco. So I stayed. Where else could I go? And now he's dead, I'm free. Sirius, I'm finally free."

Sirius bent his head, looking down at his untouched ice-cream. The seconds ticked by. Finally he raised his head.

"I'm staying at the old house," he said. He grinned at her expression, and Narcissa was reminded of the boy he once was. The children they were.

"I have nowhere else to go," he explained. "I've been trying to clean it up - the blasted house elf hates me…" he trailed off, raising his eyebrows at her. "You might be able to help with that."

"I can most certainly try." She smiled warmly.

"Have you spoken to Andi?" Sirius asked.

"No," Narcissa answered. Andromeda would see through her - she always had been able to. "I can't, not yet. We fought when she left the house - both with words and wands...later Sirius, give me some time."

Sirius nodded.

"Shall I come by...Wednesday afternoon perhaps?" She allowed the right amount of hesitation to creep into her tone.

Sirius looks hesitant, but then smiles. It is a small smile, guarded - but Narcissa knows she's won.

Hook, line and sinker.

(0)

"If I could meet Potter, I'd thank him," she murmured once over lunch. Sirius reacted - just a little bit - but she didn't miss it. He knew something.

(0)

Sirius hated Kreacher. The house elf had no love for Sirius either.

Kreacher loved Narcissa. To the elf, she was the last true Black. While Narcissa had no love for the creature - Kreacher was just a house-elf, not worthy of any real consideration - this was an opportunity.

On the fourth meeting, Sirius allowed her to stay in her old room. She slipped him a little something to ensure he wouldn't wake up in the middle of the night, and searched the house.

Kreacher helped her. It didn't take long to find the letters. Sirius was writing to Harry Potter.

The letters from Harry didn't say much - they were short, casual. But they were setting up a meeting.

(0)

It wasn't difficult for her to find out when and where Sirius was going to meet Potter. She had Sirius' trust now. The man was starved of friendship and affection, and he had always had a soft spot for her back when they were children.

She committed the place and time to memory.

(0)

She only knew the man as Mulliv. Lucius trusted the man. She'd met him a fair few times - and used his services once too.

Mulliv was what you'd expect from someone of his profession. Tall, well-built. Menacing, imposing…perhaps not the brightest, but he wasn't hired to think.

She thought long and hard about hiring Mulliv. She was very capable, powerful and skilled enough to easily match Mulliv in a duel.
Sirius was rusty. Potter was only a child...but he had killed Lucius.

Lucius Malfoy had been a powerful wizard, and Potter had killed him. Stabbed him to death. If the fight became physical, she would need Mulliv.

Not that she planned to let the fight draw out - she needed to be quick. Having back-up was wise. Just in case went south - so she hired Mulliv.

Potter would pay.

(0)

A/N:-

All the hate and xenophobia spilling out from Britain voting to leave the EU is very depressing, so I had to get a bit of writing done to distract myself.
Edit: I mean the hate and xenophobia after the result - the many reports of harassment of Asians, Poles and Romanians that have come through since.

Thank you very much for reading.

Cheers,

timefreak