![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I wanted to post this because I am getting sick of staring at it. So. Here we go. If you remember last time, Harry had a smackdown with Garrett, which Narcissa overheard.
Title: Cause and Effect
Author: me
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Narcissa pays a visit to an old friend.
Disclaimer: The HP characters are not mine, nor shall they ever be, and I am still not making money off of them. Fancy that.
Marriage Arc parts One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten
...
Part 11:
Cause and Effect
Narcissa Calpurnia Elladora Malfoy, nee Black, knew quite a bit more than the average pureblooded dowager about the many, many secrets of possessing great wealth. Most people tended to concentrate almost exclusively on the Malfoy attachments she had so cleverly secured during her youth, and it certainly was still worth mentioning at the average gatherings of the upper echelons of Wizarding society. But Narcissa was a Black, first and foremost, and Blacks knew how to handle money. They knew how to spend and save with finesse, as well as all the tiniest intricacies of it in all its multitudinous forms: just how to finger a shiny new Galleon while in the presence of one’s solicitor… the perfect pause in between “fifty” and “thousand” when discussing one’s accumulation of yearly allowances… the best way to invest money in – and then remove money from – a soaring stock in wands or the latest borderline-dark potion to come into vogue.
But there was another way to utilize one’s wealth, and if one were not of the Black – or Malfoy, for that matter – persuasion, it was a simple thing to miss. Blacks and Malfoys were not, after all, so very hampered by the conventions of modern morality. But Blacks understood naturally (whereas Malfoys had to work at it) just how useful a few well-placed Galleons could be in exchange for the inconsequential details of, say, another person’s life.
Little things, such as purchased Floo tickets, or… oh, a favourite style of shrimp could go a long way, given enough time to accumulate the proper “interest.”
And Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, had exclusive access to the single largest deposit of Wizarding Wealth in all of Britain and half of Europe. Yes, the name of Lucius Malfoy certainly sat in the memories of those who had contributed to that wealth, but it was Narcissa’s Black blood that had taught her husband the means and patience to let the money come to him, just by placing a few well-set markers along the road of life.
Part of the secret – and Narcissa was loathe to let anyone else in on this little fact, even if they did bear her nose and her luxurious flaxen hair, and have Black blood flowing through their veins half the time – was learning to prioritize. Narcissa had been instructed well by her father, and her grandfather before that; she had never had to shoulder the disdain of learning her lessons the hard way. No, that was left to her lesser family members, like that despicable Andromeda, or that disgrace-to-the-bloodline Alphard, whom her father never talked about except to warn her away from such foolish shenanigans under the penalty of torture, death and disownment, quite possibly in that order, but then again, nothing under the sun was certain.
Difficult decisions had to be made, and Narcissa had been faced with quite a few in the very recent past. The latest one had been simply a nuisance, galling and completely unnecessary, if only she’d paid better attention to her son’s activities over the past few years. But in the end, it was only a pureblooded excuse for a Wizarding saviour who stood on the one side.
On the other… a purposeful, spiteful, and most insufferable slander to her firstborn and only son.
Never let it be said that Narcissa Black did not love her child. After all, she was overlooking the scarred waste of pure magical blood he was currently sleeping with in order to demonstrate that love.
During moments when the wine ran a little too free, she’d considered using her enormous wealth to just shove her son’s lover right out of Draco’s life, for his own good, of course. Surely even the great Boy Who Lived had a price. The detestable thing was, Harry James Potter was almost tolerable next to the pompous, self-involved alternative. Funny how things looked under the right lighting spell.
She wasn’t about to give voice to the thought that Harry James Potter did, among other things, treat her son right. Garrett Saffold-Insbrook was another matter entirely. One which Narcissa knew exactly how to rectify. She was a Black after all, and Blacks understood the vagaries of money.
It hadn’t taken much. Just five days of her time and several pulled strings to accrue the necessary implements. Salazar bless her husband for his cunning foresight; the power of fear was something that Malfoys knew intimately. It could be invested just as well as money under the right circumstances. Oh, yes… her husband had been very good at what he did. Calling in the right favours was all too simple a task, and when it came to her son, the expenditure of money was no object at all.
A former Death Eater in Spain had been most helpful when it came to searching out which upper class pureblood went where, and who he might amuse himself with. And the self-absorbed little prig at the Floo distribution network was happy to assist her with her inquiries about long distance travel arrangements once she had outlined his surprising lack of true neutrality during the war. And she’d had no trouble insuring that those two particular favours still remained in her coffers afterward because, thanks to her abominably intelligent late husband, some types of fear just didn’t go away.
And of course, it was child’s play to secure an invitation to tea at the Saffold-Insbrook estate. Lady Zinnia Saffold-Insbrook was a charming woman, and a dear friend of hers besides.
“Oh, Narcissa, it is good to see you,” Lady Saffold-Insbrook said with a lovely, white-toothed smile. She offered a spread of delectable scones with one perfectly manicured hand. “I’d thought you were taking the waters on the Continent. It’s been so long since we’ve visited together!”
Narcissa selected with a wave of her hand and dipped honey into her teacup as the appropriate scone floated to her plate. “I am sorry, my dear. It’s been simply beastly this season managing my son’s affairs. I’ve not had the time to call on my friends.”
“Well, you are always welcome here. We’ve all missed your company. Isn’t that right, Garrett?”
Her son nodded easily from his lush chair a few feet away. Narcissa graced him with a smile. How poised he looked. How delightfully comfortable.
Her smile widened.
Garrett Saffold-Insbrook was a prime example of youthful Wizarding wealth: filthy rich, entrepreneurial enough to gain more, but lacking that certain… fortitude to deal properly with the ever-rolling market. But as every astute handler of wealth knew, the market always changed, and each cause had its own peculiar effect. It was just the way of things.
“Oh, my dear Garrett, you look even more handsome than the last time I saw you.” Narcissa tilted her head and squinted at him. “I’ve been told you’ve just come into some property in Thailand. I trust you’re keeping yourself busy?”
Garrett’s demeanor was that of the picture-perfect host. “It certainly does take up my attention. But I’ve learned how to balance the books.”
Narcissa let a tinkling laugh slip free. Oh, yes. Very amusing.
Lady Saffold-Insbrook set her cup down and leaned forward. “Oh, but Cissy, please, please tell me how Draco is faring! I’d meant to write, but time just got away from me.”
“He is very well indeed. He’s been promoted to assistant proprietor of the Potions licensing agency he works for. I couldn’t be more proud.”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook gave a wistful sigh. “It’s wonderful to hear that Draco is doing well. I do so adore your son. Enchanting young man.”
Narcissa patted her hand. “Yes, I remember the gift of robes you commissioned for him. He wears them often. Such an exquisite choice of fabric, Zin, they always did bring out his eyes.”
“Not difficult. He has such expressive eyes.” Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s smile had gone tender.
“Oh, but silly me, I’ve forgotten— He’s just gotten engaged, you know.”
“Has he now?” Her hostess’ eyes sparkled. “Do tell.”
“Yes, indeed. A young man he met doing this and that. You know how it is. I’m simply beside myself with the waiting, but then, these things do take time. Draco’s going to be coming into quite a bit of money, just as soon as he marries.” Narcissa smiled graciously. “A mother’s wedding gift.”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook nodded approvingly. “What a delightful present.”
“Though,” Narcissa sighed, “it is a pity you won’t be on the receiving end of my gift, Garrett. I am quite fond of you.”
Garrett smiled and dropped his head a touch, looking pained. “And I was fond of your son. Alas, it was not to be.”
“Yes, I suppose your visits to Spain took care of that,” Narcissa said lightly, taking a small sip of tea.
Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s finely detailed eyebrows went up. “Spain, dear?” she asked in a pleasant voice, turning to her son.
Garrett wore the slightest of frowns between his gorgeous brows. “Yes. Spain, Mother. I… had business there for some time. You remember.”
“Oh, dear. I’d no idea you’d gone as far as Spain.” Lady Saffold-Insbrook lifted a scone and took a modest spoonful of Devonshire. “Draco never said anything about it.”
Narcissa waved her hand delicately. “My son will not suffer any discussion of the country. It really is a mystery to me. I do so love the Florentine. But for some reason… Well, but it is a lovely country. Surely you thought so, Garrett. Why else would you spend three months there, all told?”
She laughed gaily, and Garrett laughed with her after a moment. But his mother set her teacup down slowly.
“Three months,” she mused. “Garrett, darling, when did this happen?”
“It was…” Garrett shifted in his chair, re-crossing his legs. “I’m sure I’ve forgotten by now.”
“Oh, five years ago, darling,” Narcissa supplied. She took a dainty bite of her scone. “I remember it because Draco was so beside himself. He spent an entire week at the Manor at one point. It was marvelous to see him. The estate feels so empty to me at times…”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s smile fell completely off her face. She studied Narcissa through squinted eyes, finger tapping at her teacup. “Was this… My, how my memory has slipped away. Garrett, darling, wasn’t that the year you and Draco called off the—”
“More tea, Mrs. Malfoy?” Garrett leaned forward and offered the pot. Narcissa nodded her thanks and lifted her cup.
“I’m glad you had somewhere you could go, Garrett. Simply awful, that year, your parting with my son... Draco wasn’t himself for… well, I really can’t remember. It’s wonderful to see him back on his feet now. You know, I hate to profess any sort of holding with fate, but I do believe he’s found his soul-mate.”
“And how…” Lady Saffold-Insbrook cleared her throat and smiled weakly. “How did they meet, Narcissa, dear?”
“They knew each other during school, but I can’t say they were especially close.” She shook her head. “But then they just met up again – in the last three years, actually – and… well. Can any of us truly say how these things happen?”
It was a rare, rare sight to see Zinnia’s jaw clenched like that. “Were they friends, then?”
“I suppose it began that way. But then, that’s the basis for any truly successful relationship, isn’t it, no matter what we say? He’s such a pleasant young man.” She looked at Garrett questioningly. “And what about you, darling? Surely you have close friends like that. With your looks and personality…”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook did not move an inch. Narcissa continued.
“I’ve always been in favor of young men having close males friends. Someone a man can turn to when he just… needs to escape the trials of life.”
And poor, dear, darling Garrett. Looking so green about the gills. Narcissa smiled thinly up at him, and then turned to his mother. “Draco simply hates Spain, for some odd reason. I’ve asked him about it, but he just bottles it all up the moment I mention it. Pity. It’s such a diverting country.”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s hazel eyes had narrowed; her mouth had hardened into a very thin line. She tracked her eyes slowly from Narcissa to her son and held them there. Narcissa looked at Garrett as well, affecting curiosity.
The heir to the Saffold-Insbrook estate was staring back at her, a vague sort of horror in his eyes.
“But I’m certain all is not lost; I may yet be able to convince my son and his charming fiancé to visit Spain on their honeymoon.” Narcissa sipped her tea daintily. “Catalonia, perhaps. That’s quite far from where you stayed, is it not, Garrett?”
The silence was sharp enough to cut right through the fine china cups and saucers. Garrett’s face had paled to a pasty white.
“Andalucia, Garrett?” Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s voice was as low as an adder’s hiss. “Seville, perhaps. With the de Medinas?”
“Mother, I’m sure now is not the best time.”
“And just how is Antón, Garrett?” his mother said sharply, eyes spitting gold. “Still single?”
Narcissa brought her hand to her mouth with a tiny laugh. “Oh, my goodness. I really must be going, I’ve a florist’s appraisal to see to for Draco and his fiancé while they’re at work. So much to wrestle into submission. Weddings… Alas, but only the best for my son, wouldn’t you agree?”
Neither of the Saffold-Insbrooks answered. Narcissa stood gracefully and summoned for the house elf to bring her wrap. “Thank you ever so much for the tea, Zin. I’m so sorry to have to leave like this. We really must do this again soon.”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s nod was scant and razor sharp.
By the time Narcissa got through the front door into the topiary gardens, she could hear the shrill shouting even through the massive front doors. She sighed, wrapped her coat around her, and admired the little red cardinals that zipped and fluttered about through the shaped trees.
My, but it was a glorious day.
Narcissa mused as she walked, taking care not to turn her ankle on the pebbly path. She might as well return home and open up those new singing sea salts from Madagascar. Such a successful afternoon certainly called for a luxurious bath before contacting Draco to arrange for the floral appointment. Crocuses would be lovely. Perhaps some blue delphiniums.
She still had to get that ring back from Potter. But she would handle it. She was a Black, after all.
* * *
SAFFOLD-INSBROOK HEIR LOSES HALF OF INHERITANCE
By Rita Skeeter
Garrett Saffold-Insbrook, youngest family member and only heir of the extravagant Saffold-Insbrook estates in northern Hampshire and worldwide, has recently and inexplicably been deprived of nearly two-thirds of his afore-promised inheritance. The family’s public relations cite a personal decision long in the making, but sources within the household have told another, far more scandalous story…
Draco’s coffee was forgotten in an instant. “What in Salazar’s name…?”
“What is it?” said Harry from behind him. Draco pointed at the Prophet article. Harry leaned over his shoulder and read silently. He met Draco’s eyes, looking amused, and straightened.
“Well. That’s karma for you, yeah?”
Draco frowned. “What’s karma?”
Harry’s smile turned a mite devilish. “It’s… what’s going to insure that the sex in your next life is utterly fulfilling, provided you keep surprising me in this one.”
Draco stood and stepped toward Harry, who was grinning and backing down the hall. “Well. Can’t have me disappointed later, can we?”
“Nope.”
Harry was still shirtless and slightly damp from his shower. And Draco was late to work that day.
Cause and effect in the best sense.
~tbc~
Title: Cause and Effect
Author: me
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Narcissa pays a visit to an old friend.
Disclaimer: The HP characters are not mine, nor shall they ever be, and I am still not making money off of them. Fancy that.
Marriage Arc parts One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten
...
Part 11:
Cause and Effect
Narcissa Calpurnia Elladora Malfoy, nee Black, knew quite a bit more than the average pureblooded dowager about the many, many secrets of possessing great wealth. Most people tended to concentrate almost exclusively on the Malfoy attachments she had so cleverly secured during her youth, and it certainly was still worth mentioning at the average gatherings of the upper echelons of Wizarding society. But Narcissa was a Black, first and foremost, and Blacks knew how to handle money. They knew how to spend and save with finesse, as well as all the tiniest intricacies of it in all its multitudinous forms: just how to finger a shiny new Galleon while in the presence of one’s solicitor… the perfect pause in between “fifty” and “thousand” when discussing one’s accumulation of yearly allowances… the best way to invest money in – and then remove money from – a soaring stock in wands or the latest borderline-dark potion to come into vogue.
But there was another way to utilize one’s wealth, and if one were not of the Black – or Malfoy, for that matter – persuasion, it was a simple thing to miss. Blacks and Malfoys were not, after all, so very hampered by the conventions of modern morality. But Blacks understood naturally (whereas Malfoys had to work at it) just how useful a few well-placed Galleons could be in exchange for the inconsequential details of, say, another person’s life.
Little things, such as purchased Floo tickets, or… oh, a favourite style of shrimp could go a long way, given enough time to accumulate the proper “interest.”
And Narcissa Malfoy, nee Black, had exclusive access to the single largest deposit of Wizarding Wealth in all of Britain and half of Europe. Yes, the name of Lucius Malfoy certainly sat in the memories of those who had contributed to that wealth, but it was Narcissa’s Black blood that had taught her husband the means and patience to let the money come to him, just by placing a few well-set markers along the road of life.
Part of the secret – and Narcissa was loathe to let anyone else in on this little fact, even if they did bear her nose and her luxurious flaxen hair, and have Black blood flowing through their veins half the time – was learning to prioritize. Narcissa had been instructed well by her father, and her grandfather before that; she had never had to shoulder the disdain of learning her lessons the hard way. No, that was left to her lesser family members, like that despicable Andromeda, or that disgrace-to-the-bloodline Alphard, whom her father never talked about except to warn her away from such foolish shenanigans under the penalty of torture, death and disownment, quite possibly in that order, but then again, nothing under the sun was certain.
Difficult decisions had to be made, and Narcissa had been faced with quite a few in the very recent past. The latest one had been simply a nuisance, galling and completely unnecessary, if only she’d paid better attention to her son’s activities over the past few years. But in the end, it was only a pureblooded excuse for a Wizarding saviour who stood on the one side.
On the other… a purposeful, spiteful, and most insufferable slander to her firstborn and only son.
Never let it be said that Narcissa Black did not love her child. After all, she was overlooking the scarred waste of pure magical blood he was currently sleeping with in order to demonstrate that love.
During moments when the wine ran a little too free, she’d considered using her enormous wealth to just shove her son’s lover right out of Draco’s life, for his own good, of course. Surely even the great Boy Who Lived had a price. The detestable thing was, Harry James Potter was almost tolerable next to the pompous, self-involved alternative. Funny how things looked under the right lighting spell.
She wasn’t about to give voice to the thought that Harry James Potter did, among other things, treat her son right. Garrett Saffold-Insbrook was another matter entirely. One which Narcissa knew exactly how to rectify. She was a Black after all, and Blacks understood the vagaries of money.
It hadn’t taken much. Just five days of her time and several pulled strings to accrue the necessary implements. Salazar bless her husband for his cunning foresight; the power of fear was something that Malfoys knew intimately. It could be invested just as well as money under the right circumstances. Oh, yes… her husband had been very good at what he did. Calling in the right favours was all too simple a task, and when it came to her son, the expenditure of money was no object at all.
A former Death Eater in Spain had been most helpful when it came to searching out which upper class pureblood went where, and who he might amuse himself with. And the self-absorbed little prig at the Floo distribution network was happy to assist her with her inquiries about long distance travel arrangements once she had outlined his surprising lack of true neutrality during the war. And she’d had no trouble insuring that those two particular favours still remained in her coffers afterward because, thanks to her abominably intelligent late husband, some types of fear just didn’t go away.
And of course, it was child’s play to secure an invitation to tea at the Saffold-Insbrook estate. Lady Zinnia Saffold-Insbrook was a charming woman, and a dear friend of hers besides.
“Oh, Narcissa, it is good to see you,” Lady Saffold-Insbrook said with a lovely, white-toothed smile. She offered a spread of delectable scones with one perfectly manicured hand. “I’d thought you were taking the waters on the Continent. It’s been so long since we’ve visited together!”
Narcissa selected with a wave of her hand and dipped honey into her teacup as the appropriate scone floated to her plate. “I am sorry, my dear. It’s been simply beastly this season managing my son’s affairs. I’ve not had the time to call on my friends.”
“Well, you are always welcome here. We’ve all missed your company. Isn’t that right, Garrett?”
Her son nodded easily from his lush chair a few feet away. Narcissa graced him with a smile. How poised he looked. How delightfully comfortable.
Her smile widened.
Garrett Saffold-Insbrook was a prime example of youthful Wizarding wealth: filthy rich, entrepreneurial enough to gain more, but lacking that certain… fortitude to deal properly with the ever-rolling market. But as every astute handler of wealth knew, the market always changed, and each cause had its own peculiar effect. It was just the way of things.
“Oh, my dear Garrett, you look even more handsome than the last time I saw you.” Narcissa tilted her head and squinted at him. “I’ve been told you’ve just come into some property in Thailand. I trust you’re keeping yourself busy?”
Garrett’s demeanor was that of the picture-perfect host. “It certainly does take up my attention. But I’ve learned how to balance the books.”
Narcissa let a tinkling laugh slip free. Oh, yes. Very amusing.
Lady Saffold-Insbrook set her cup down and leaned forward. “Oh, but Cissy, please, please tell me how Draco is faring! I’d meant to write, but time just got away from me.”
“He is very well indeed. He’s been promoted to assistant proprietor of the Potions licensing agency he works for. I couldn’t be more proud.”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook gave a wistful sigh. “It’s wonderful to hear that Draco is doing well. I do so adore your son. Enchanting young man.”
Narcissa patted her hand. “Yes, I remember the gift of robes you commissioned for him. He wears them often. Such an exquisite choice of fabric, Zin, they always did bring out his eyes.”
“Not difficult. He has such expressive eyes.” Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s smile had gone tender.
“Oh, but silly me, I’ve forgotten— He’s just gotten engaged, you know.”
“Has he now?” Her hostess’ eyes sparkled. “Do tell.”
“Yes, indeed. A young man he met doing this and that. You know how it is. I’m simply beside myself with the waiting, but then, these things do take time. Draco’s going to be coming into quite a bit of money, just as soon as he marries.” Narcissa smiled graciously. “A mother’s wedding gift.”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook nodded approvingly. “What a delightful present.”
“Though,” Narcissa sighed, “it is a pity you won’t be on the receiving end of my gift, Garrett. I am quite fond of you.”
Garrett smiled and dropped his head a touch, looking pained. “And I was fond of your son. Alas, it was not to be.”
“Yes, I suppose your visits to Spain took care of that,” Narcissa said lightly, taking a small sip of tea.
Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s finely detailed eyebrows went up. “Spain, dear?” she asked in a pleasant voice, turning to her son.
Garrett wore the slightest of frowns between his gorgeous brows. “Yes. Spain, Mother. I… had business there for some time. You remember.”
“Oh, dear. I’d no idea you’d gone as far as Spain.” Lady Saffold-Insbrook lifted a scone and took a modest spoonful of Devonshire. “Draco never said anything about it.”
Narcissa waved her hand delicately. “My son will not suffer any discussion of the country. It really is a mystery to me. I do so love the Florentine. But for some reason… Well, but it is a lovely country. Surely you thought so, Garrett. Why else would you spend three months there, all told?”
She laughed gaily, and Garrett laughed with her after a moment. But his mother set her teacup down slowly.
“Three months,” she mused. “Garrett, darling, when did this happen?”
“It was…” Garrett shifted in his chair, re-crossing his legs. “I’m sure I’ve forgotten by now.”
“Oh, five years ago, darling,” Narcissa supplied. She took a dainty bite of her scone. “I remember it because Draco was so beside himself. He spent an entire week at the Manor at one point. It was marvelous to see him. The estate feels so empty to me at times…”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s smile fell completely off her face. She studied Narcissa through squinted eyes, finger tapping at her teacup. “Was this… My, how my memory has slipped away. Garrett, darling, wasn’t that the year you and Draco called off the—”
“More tea, Mrs. Malfoy?” Garrett leaned forward and offered the pot. Narcissa nodded her thanks and lifted her cup.
“I’m glad you had somewhere you could go, Garrett. Simply awful, that year, your parting with my son... Draco wasn’t himself for… well, I really can’t remember. It’s wonderful to see him back on his feet now. You know, I hate to profess any sort of holding with fate, but I do believe he’s found his soul-mate.”
“And how…” Lady Saffold-Insbrook cleared her throat and smiled weakly. “How did they meet, Narcissa, dear?”
“They knew each other during school, but I can’t say they were especially close.” She shook her head. “But then they just met up again – in the last three years, actually – and… well. Can any of us truly say how these things happen?”
It was a rare, rare sight to see Zinnia’s jaw clenched like that. “Were they friends, then?”
“I suppose it began that way. But then, that’s the basis for any truly successful relationship, isn’t it, no matter what we say? He’s such a pleasant young man.” She looked at Garrett questioningly. “And what about you, darling? Surely you have close friends like that. With your looks and personality…”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook did not move an inch. Narcissa continued.
“I’ve always been in favor of young men having close males friends. Someone a man can turn to when he just… needs to escape the trials of life.”
And poor, dear, darling Garrett. Looking so green about the gills. Narcissa smiled thinly up at him, and then turned to his mother. “Draco simply hates Spain, for some odd reason. I’ve asked him about it, but he just bottles it all up the moment I mention it. Pity. It’s such a diverting country.”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s hazel eyes had narrowed; her mouth had hardened into a very thin line. She tracked her eyes slowly from Narcissa to her son and held them there. Narcissa looked at Garrett as well, affecting curiosity.
The heir to the Saffold-Insbrook estate was staring back at her, a vague sort of horror in his eyes.
“But I’m certain all is not lost; I may yet be able to convince my son and his charming fiancé to visit Spain on their honeymoon.” Narcissa sipped her tea daintily. “Catalonia, perhaps. That’s quite far from where you stayed, is it not, Garrett?”
The silence was sharp enough to cut right through the fine china cups and saucers. Garrett’s face had paled to a pasty white.
“Andalucia, Garrett?” Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s voice was as low as an adder’s hiss. “Seville, perhaps. With the de Medinas?”
“Mother, I’m sure now is not the best time.”
“And just how is Antón, Garrett?” his mother said sharply, eyes spitting gold. “Still single?”
Narcissa brought her hand to her mouth with a tiny laugh. “Oh, my goodness. I really must be going, I’ve a florist’s appraisal to see to for Draco and his fiancé while they’re at work. So much to wrestle into submission. Weddings… Alas, but only the best for my son, wouldn’t you agree?”
Neither of the Saffold-Insbrooks answered. Narcissa stood gracefully and summoned for the house elf to bring her wrap. “Thank you ever so much for the tea, Zin. I’m so sorry to have to leave like this. We really must do this again soon.”
Lady Saffold-Insbrook’s nod was scant and razor sharp.
By the time Narcissa got through the front door into the topiary gardens, she could hear the shrill shouting even through the massive front doors. She sighed, wrapped her coat around her, and admired the little red cardinals that zipped and fluttered about through the shaped trees.
My, but it was a glorious day.
Narcissa mused as she walked, taking care not to turn her ankle on the pebbly path. She might as well return home and open up those new singing sea salts from Madagascar. Such a successful afternoon certainly called for a luxurious bath before contacting Draco to arrange for the floral appointment. Crocuses would be lovely. Perhaps some blue delphiniums.
She still had to get that ring back from Potter. But she would handle it. She was a Black, after all.
* * *
SAFFOLD-INSBROOK HEIR LOSES HALF OF INHERITANCE
By Rita Skeeter
Garrett Saffold-Insbrook, youngest family member and only heir of the extravagant Saffold-Insbrook estates in northern Hampshire and worldwide, has recently and inexplicably been deprived of nearly two-thirds of his afore-promised inheritance. The family’s public relations cite a personal decision long in the making, but sources within the household have told another, far more scandalous story…
Draco’s coffee was forgotten in an instant. “What in Salazar’s name…?”
“What is it?” said Harry from behind him. Draco pointed at the Prophet article. Harry leaned over his shoulder and read silently. He met Draco’s eyes, looking amused, and straightened.
“Well. That’s karma for you, yeah?”
Draco frowned. “What’s karma?”
Harry’s smile turned a mite devilish. “It’s… what’s going to insure that the sex in your next life is utterly fulfilling, provided you keep surprising me in this one.”
Draco stood and stepped toward Harry, who was grinning and backing down the hall. “Well. Can’t have me disappointed later, can we?”
“Nope.”
Harry was still shirtless and slightly damp from his shower. And Draco was late to work that day.
Cause and effect in the best sense.
~tbc~
