Chapter Text
Narcissa Malfoy was the image of pureblood finery, elegantly dressed, diamonds dripping from her earlobes and adorning her neck, hair piled neatly on top of her head, her perfectly manicured nails tapping impatiently on a side table as she sat in front of the fireplace waiting on a call from her son. Why he couldn’t just pop home and speak to her in person she didn’t know. He’d been away for almost two years and then, finally, he’d returned home, only to dump his things, offer his mother nothing more than a peck on the cheek before he’d left again, muttering something about ‘work stuff to clear up’. Then she’d heard nothing from him again for almost two weeks until an owl dropped by with a letter from her only child informing her that he needed to call her the next day and that he had ‘important news’.
She had no idea what this ‘news’ was all about. She hoped maybe he was quitting the ministry and would finally be ready to return home and help run the Malfoy estate, maybe find a nice witch to settle down with, maybe start a family… She knew his work at the DMLE was important, she knew how much it had meant to him, she knew how vital his work was at restoring order to the wizarding world after the horrors of the war. Her stomach churned at the memories of that time, of what they’d been through, of what he’d been through. She was so happy that all that was behind them now and she was proud of the work he had been doing to ensure those awful days would never be repeated. But it didn’t stop her worrying, didn’t stop her waking up in a cold sweat every night wondering if her darling boy was still alive. Almost two years she’d had to endure that fear while he’d been away, she hoped to Merlin that he wasn’t about to announce another mission. She swallowed and wiped a tear from her cheek just as the flames in the fireplace roared into life. Her stomach flipped and her heartrate soared. She crossed her legs at the ankles, straightened her skirt and lifted her chin. She tried not to look how she felt… worried, as her son’s head popped through the flames.
“Hello mother.”
Narcissa’s mouth twitched, “hello Draco, finally felt it was time to let your mother know you’re ALIVE then? Your mother who has been patiently waiting since you briefly graced me with your presence after being away for nearly two years?!”
“Mother I…”
Narcissa waved a hand to silence her son, “no, no, don’t you worry about me, Draco. Have you any idea what it’s like to worry like this? Any idea what it’s like to not know if your only child is alive or dead?” She rolled her eyes and threw her hands in the air dramatically, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry mother, I had… work stuff to sort out…”
“Work stuff?!!” her pitch was rising, she was losing her well-practiced composure, “well, that’s good, as long as your ‘work stuff’ is sorted before you spend any time with your poor old mother!” She looked down at her lap and shook her head, “you wouldn’t understand Draco, you’re not a parent.”
Hermione gasped in the background and quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. Narcissa looked up at the fireplace again, “Draco, who was that? Is someone with you?”
“Er, yes mother, th-that’s what I needed to talk to you about.”
Narcissa narrowed her eyes, “go on…”
“Well, I… er… I’m sort of seeing someone…”
“Seeing someone? Draco you’ve been home for less than two weeks!!” She eyed the face in the fireplace suspiciously, “unless it’s someone you’ve brought home with you…”
Draco shook his head, “no, no, it’s nothing like that, it’s someone I’ve known for a long time…”
Narcissa’s eyes grew wide, “oh? Is it someone I know?”
“Yes, well, it’s someone everyone knows…”
“Oh Draco, for Merlin’s sake spit it out, WHO?”
Draco hesitated, “Mother, I’ve been seeing Hermione Granger.”
Silence. Narcissa stared at the flames. She didn’t move. She’d had too much training to let her jaw drop. Instead, she straightened herself up and spoke a little softer, “Hermione Granger? War heroine Hermione Granger? Brightest witch of our age, Hermione Granger?” Despite her perfect poise, her jaw was beginning to tremble.
“Yes mother, that Hermione Granger.”
There was silence again. Narcissa looked down at her hands. Hermione Granger? When had this happened? She was sure she was married to that Weasley boy? A total waste if anyone had asked her. She remembered her from the war, from that awful night at the Manor, guilt twisted in her gut as she thought of the vile way her sister had tortured that poor girl. And how she’d taken it, strong, resilient. And then she’d learned of how instrumental she’d been in Voldemort’s downfall and had become fascinated to learn more as the Daily Prophet triumphed her every achievement since the war. She remembered her son mentioning them working together and she’d noticed a spark in his eyes whenever he’d tried to casually state that he was “working with that Granger girl again this week”, as if he didn’t care, who was he fooling?! And then he’d returned from his mission and rushed straight to her! But wait, hadn’t there been rumours that she’d had a baby? Narcissa’s heart began racing along with her thoughts.
She looked back to the fireplace. She spoke again, gently, “that’s… that’s wonderful Draco, I’m so happy for you.” She lifted her chin and allowed herself a small smile. She then clasped her hands together and stood up, her chin was back in the air again, “then you must bring Miss Granger along with you to Dinner this evening, I insist.” She nodded her head determinedly as she made her request, though she knew Draco would be well aware it wasn’t an invitation they were allowed to turn down.
Draco smiled, “we’d be delighted to join you, mother, thank you for inviting us.”
Narcissa’s shoulders relaxed, and she smiled at him and nodded, “I’m so glad, I will have dinner ready for seven, so you’d best arrive at six.”
Draco nodded back, “I’ll have Hermione’s fireplace connected to the Manor mother, if that’s ok? We don’t really want to be seen in public just yet.”
Narcissa nodded, “yes, yes of course Draco.” She watched as her son turned away and grinned, she knew that grin, she dreaded that grin, it was the same grin his father would make, the grin that told her he was up to something…
“Oh, and Mother,” Narcissa looked up, feeling somewhat apprehensive as he continued, “you’d better set an extra seat at the dinner table… we’ll be bringing your grandson,” and with that he withdrew his head from the flames and disappeared, the flames roaring as the connection was severed.
Narcissa stared at the fireplace and despite her training, she allowed her jaw to drop open.
It was a few moments before Narcissa was able to close her jaw and regain her composure. Grandson? GRANDSON? She had heard that right? Grandson? Her jaw started to quiver as she processed the information. She had a GRANDSON? She stiffened her jaw again and straightened herself up before shouting for her house elf.
At 6pm on the dot Draco Malfoy came tumbling through the fireplace in the grand hallway at Malfoy Manor, desperately clutching a highchair, a pushchair and a bag of other baby paraphernalia.
Narcissa squeezed her hands together and raised an eyebrow as she observed the scene before her. Her son was home again, she’d barely seen him since he’d returned from his mission and now, here he was, her boy, but now he was so much more, apparently he was a father? She fought back tears as she took him in.
“Draco, it… it’s good to see you son.” She reached a hand towards him, but Draco was preoccupied as he set down the equipment. When he’d finally freed himself from the clutter, he stood up tall and straightened his suit.
He ran a hand through his hair and then stepped forwards to take his mother’s hands in his. He leaned over to her and she moved her head for him to kiss each cheek.
She smiled at him and placed a hand on his chest, she then looked over his shoulder at the equipment he’d brought with him.
He smirked at her and shook his head, then nodded in the direction of the baby gear, "Granger and her bloody muggle contraptions.” He rolled his eyes and looked at his mother again.
She looked up at him, “Draco, grandson?” She could barely form words, and her bottom lip quivered as she spoke, “did you say you were bringing my grandson?!”
He smiled at his mother and squeezed her hands, “yes mother, you have a grandson, he’ll be along shortly.”
Narcissa bristled, “but, when, how? How old is he? How long have you known? And are you SURE it’s… er… yours?”
As the words left her lips there was another flash of green from the fireplace and Hermione Granger stepped through the flames holding Scorpius in her arms.
Narcissa gasped and a tear rolled down her cheek as she brought her hands to her mouth. She took in the boy, the hair, the eyes, the chin. It was like being transported back in time, the boy was the image of his father, the image of her own child at that age.
Hermione smiled, “hey Scorpius, meet your grandmother.”
Narcissa let out a whimper and walked over to them. Her hands trembling as she reached out and stroked the boy’s hair. Hermione glanced at Draco, who nodded at her, then she returned her eyes to Narcissa.
Narcissa looked at her and swallowed. Then a smile spread across her face as she said in a shaky voice, “Hermione Granger, it would be my absolute honour if you and… Scorpius,” she stroked the boy’s head and beamed at him, “if you and Scorpius would join me for dinner this evening?”
Hermione looked at Draco again and then looked back at Narcissa, “it would be my pleasure, Mrs Malfoy.”
“Narcissa,” Draco’s mother replied softly, as she continued to stroke her grandson’s hair and stare into his captivating grey eyes, memories flooding back to her of her own, early years of motherhood, “call me Narcissa.” She looked at Hermione again and smiled before she allowed the floodgates to open, and the tears to drench her face.