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With a cold, calculating look in her eye, Narcissa Malfoy scanned the contents of the brief letter she’d received earlier that evening. She was barely able to decipher the messy scrawl, slowly she made out bits and pieces of the letter, her expression darkening as she did so. Scowling she crumpled the letter in her hand, tossing it into the fire. For a few moments the flames took on a bluish hue as the paper was consumed.
The plush, imported Persian carpet muffled the sound of Narcissa’s heels as she stalked across the study. Her talon-like nails barely missing scratching the teak table as the agitated woman snatched up the bottle of brandy, sloshing a large amount into a glass. Narcissa was not really one for drinking, but this occasion called for it.
Gently massaging her temple with one hand, Narcissa slowly sank into the nearest lounge chair. This was becoming much more complicated than she had planned, and she was not pleased about being caught unaware. The woman downed the entire glass of brandy in one large, unladylike gulp, setting it down forcefully on the coffee table. Luckily neither Lucius nor Draco was home– Lucius was working late at the Ministry again, while Draco was still off at school. If either of them uncovered her little scheme, even if they were willing to cooperate with her, it would put everything in jeopardy.
It had started out simple enough. Narcissa needed a favor done, and for the right number of galleons, she’d found a willing accomplice in the Ministry. Her double agent had accepted the offer quickly, as she knew he would. Even the most staunch Ministry supporters would think twice before refusing such a large reward. And this man was, from what she had gathered, no big fan of the Ministry.
Six months ago, she’d accompanied Lucius, along with other high-ranking Ministry officials, including the Minister of Magic himself, on a visit to Azkaban. Certain members of the press were invited to come along as well, some sort of celebration and big media piece on the six month anniversary of Voldemort’s defeat. Cornelius Fudge, who’d somehow managed to get himself reelected, had taken them on a tour of well-known Death Eater’s cells. It was then that Narcissa saw her.
Bellatrix Lestrange. A highly violent, dangerous criminal, Fudge had pronounced her. Although she was not a woman ruled by her emotions, it took all of Narcissa's self control to keep her from giving even the slightest hint that it was her older sister locked up in that cell. None of the others in their group associated Bellatrix Black Lestrange, the raving madwoman, with Narcissa Black Malfoy, the calm, composed wife of a Ministry official. Lucius himself did not even seem to notice or make the connection; if he had, he had not said anything to Narcissa about it later.
The image haunted Narcissa throughout the whole tour. She’d always been the slimmest of the three Black sisters, but now Bella was so gaunt and emaciated that Narcissa looked huge compared to her. Her skin was sallow, bags hung under her eyes. She was only forty years old, but she could have easily passed for sixty. Seeing her sister, like this, after all these years, Narcissa felt her stomach clench. The knowledge that somehow, through bribery, threats, you name it, she would get Bella out was the only thing that kept Narcissa from becoming physically sick right then and there.
Immediately Narcissa had contacted someone– anonymously, of course– in the Ministry who was willing to assist her. She knew that the Ministry was packed with spies, informers and double agents, but to be honest, she hadn’t expected it to be quite that easy. She’d been able to confirm that her mysterious accomplice held a rather high position in the Ministry, high enough to carry out her plan. Still, that was all the information she was able to gather. She couldn’t exactly ask Lucius for help. He’d been able not only to get himself out of serving time in Azkaban for his Death Eater activities, but to retain his prominent position at the Ministry. He and Narcissa had made the decision that Lucius, at least on the outside, would remain clean and law-abiding until this new hunting down remaining Death Eaters phase passed.
But enough reminiscing. Thinking back on the cause of her present situation did nothing to improve it. This...man, whomever he was, was taking everything too far. Initially, Narcissa had paid quite a handsome fee to get his services. Recently, however, his price had grown exponentially. Narcissa had never lacked for money, and even with the man’s abominable rates it hardly hurt her purse. Still, Lucius was getting suspicious. Her withdrawing large amounts of galleons, even from her own private accounts, was not going unnoticed.
Picking up a quill, she began penning her reply.
Ares-
He’d always signed his letters Ares, after the Greek god of war. How fitting, Narcissa mused, scowling. Well, this was war.
It seems by now you must have amassed a large sum of money, siphoned from my personal accounts for the work I have hired you to do. However, your head has swelled to quite ungainly proportions in recent weeks. In past months I was willing to pay a little extra provided I received my money’s worth. Unfortunately for you, it appears your well of information is drying up rapidly, and I have no patience to tolerate fools who waste my time and money.
Perhaps I need to clarify my instructions. Read this well, if I have to tell you again it will result in dire consequences. You will send me new, pertinent information in your next correspondence. You will not even dare to demand a raise, nor presume that I will comply so willingly. I need to act, and act quickly. If you are not in control of the situation, then you useless to me. Expendable. It will not be difficult for me to find you, and I assure you, once I do you will suffer for having lead me along on this wild goose chase of yours.
You have three days to determine whether or not a transfer can be made. Do not fail me.
-B
Satisfied, Narcissa folded the letter, sealing it tightly. The owl that had brought Ares’ letter hooted dolefully, and Narcissa attached her reply to its leg, smirking to herself as it soared off into the night.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Author’s Note: I’ve been trying to write something about Narcissa Black Malfoy for ages, the character utterly fascinates me. And no, I do not think she is the doormat she is so often made out to be in fanfiction. The way I see it, she is just as wealthy, cold, calculating and manipulative as Lucius–perhaps even more so.
This fic is in response to Doomspark’s Black Widow challenge.
This fic is in response to Doomspark’s Black Widow challenge.