Draco's face was blank as he regarded the slightly strobing yellow letters on Demelli's black cover.

  The words remained in place for several seconds, then were replaced by: Sorry, not sorry. I don't get sweet set-ups like that every day.

  "I don't really blame you Miss Demelli," Draco said dryly. He turned his level gaze on Harry. "You have been subjected to bad influences."

  Oh, great, groused Demelli. Now I do feel bad. The only guy who is properly polite to me, and I have to take a cheap shot.

  Harry grinned and shook his head. "Comes with the territory, Draco. You aren't properly associated with the Ministry until one of the Files takes the mickey out of you. M.O.M. File usually comes across as a gossipy flirt. If you look deeper, you will find that you only get what you actually need. I prefer Demelli's approach, to be honest."

  Draco shook his head. "Last question before we move on the next piece of my world being massively upheaved. Miss Demelli, are you, and M.O.M. File, I suppose, one person, or many?"

  The yellow spiral swirled and pulsed a few times before the File answered.

  The short answer, which is also the correct answer, is 'Yes and No.' The long answer would require ten to twelve years of higher education before you could even figure out what questions to ask.

  Draco sighed. "I stand dejected. Moving along...?"

  Breaking it down, began the D.M.L.E. File. This data I just received was not just collected and dumped. It was put through the most exhausting analysis that The Committee's chosen subordinates could exact. As Harry said, much of it would have caused more harm than good if released. Only if the knowledge would prevent a costly error, would some of the data be 'leaked.' And by cost, I mean in lives.

  "An example was brought up while the teams were settling in at Malfoy Manor," said Harry. "During the War, there was serious consideration given to conducting a frontal assault on your Manor. A decapitation strike, it would have been."

  There was the barest shadow of a smile on Draco's face.

  Harry nodded. "The planning team literally returned a three-word analysis. 'No effin' way.' Some of the more practical analyses of the Manor found their way into the team's hands. And, if that hadn't worked, thought was given into releasing a more accurate evaluation of your mother's potential."

  Draco jumped in. "There! That again! What the Hel is that about? I mean, I love her, I admire her, but in the end, she's just my mother!"

  Harry shook his head. "Demelli, this is too sensitive to print out. Project us The Committee's final analysis.

  The yellow words swirled down to a spiral, then swirled back up to a replica of a standard form.

  M.O.M. Threat Analysis Report.

  DATE: 1 JULY 1996

  FROM: Research Three

  TO: The Committee

  CC: NONE

  SUBJ.: Narcissa Gloriosa Black Malfoy (NBM)

  Subject is a woman in early middle age, raised by Blood Purists, and married to a man who is assuredly a Death Eater.

  Despite the above facts, we have determined that NBM does not, in fact, care one way or another about Blood Status, Dark Magic, The Dark Lord, politics, or, in fact, anything, with one or two exceptions.

  She is, in fact, an Agentic Personality. This is not a criticism, nor a mental instability, but, again, with exceptions.

  An Agentic Personality gets their sense of self-worth almost entirely from within themselves. They are usually extremely talented, as long as the talent is related to something they find worthy. The world outside themselves is just something to be tolerated, as long as it does not affect their core values. (Please note Italics). Once something or someone is accepted as being acceptable to said values, it becomes the subject, in a very real, (to them), way.

  NBM was raised by Blood Purists, so she 'walked the walk, and talked the talk.' She was married, (almost certainly arranged by their families), to a man who was a Blood Purist. He was obsessively fixated on the subject, and became a Death Eater. She, therefore, gave fealty to the DL and his ravings. None of these things, however, affects who she is.

  And whom she is, is a very dangerous person. Upon examination of her, in almost any aspect of her life, one gets the impression of a moderately intelligent, minimally motivated, middle of whatever road she is put on, normal witch.

  Closer examination reveals the truth. Take her time at Hogwarts. A middling student, as evidenced by the work she turned in, and her performance in classes. Her notes, and the papers she never turned in for credit? They show a polymath genius, who after three weeks in any class she liked would be overqualified to teach it.

  Any spell she was taught? She was supposedly 'addicted' to long, private walks, for the exercise and to 'clear her head.' She used those walks to master spells, any variations of the spells, and to create her own unique spells. She did not try out for the Quidditch Team, but she spent more time in the air than the whole team combined. And not on a nice safe pitch, either. In the thick of the Forbidden Forest she flew. And tracked. And hunted.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  During her years at Hogwarts, the Gamekeeper Baldasan Ogg, and later his replacement, Rubeus Hagrid, found the bodies of 13 Werewolves, and no less than 39 Forest Trolls. Ogg collected the bounties, while Hagrid just buried them after taking over the position.

  And here we come to the exceptions. An Agentic Personality fixes on one person, or small group of people, and takes silent responsibility for them. During her Hogwarts years, and no doubt before, this was her sister, Bellatrix. The Werewolves and Trolls, however remotely, were a threat to her sister, and thus, must be dealt with. (More about her sister shortly). Luckily, her sister was something of a princess to the Slytherins, so NBM did not have to deal with any bullies. That her sister was the worst of the bullies mattered not.

  Bellatrix, though, has an issue diametrically opposed to that of her sister. She will fixate on a person to make ALL her decisions for her. It was NBM at first, then the clique of older Slytherin girls that made a pet of her, and then a selection of spotty teenage boys, none of whom lasted long.

  Then came the breaking point. Bellatrix met the Dark Lord, and will he, nil he, she became his, forever. NBM switched her focus to her husband, and later added her child, who, as we believe, became the primary focus. There it remains.

  NBM did not even attempt to 'save' her sister. She did, and apparently does, resent the situation. The only verified time NBM has been seen to lose her temper was in an exchange with Bellatrix. This last datum was provided by Dumbledore, and no deeper details will be provided.

  THREAT SUMMARY: NBM can not be reached by any means we have available. This, however, is neither necessary, nor advisable. The danger is if something pushes her closer to the DL. The Dark Lord's advisers, in as much as he will take advice, are a motley bunch. Bellatrix, for example, is basically a homicidal Yes-Man. If NBM should be pushed into believing that the only way she can protect her son is to ensure that the Dark Lord wins...

  RECOMMENDATIONS: Do not recruit. Do not approach. Do not touch a hair on her son's head. IF she approaches an asset for help, give it, and walk away. Ask for nothing in return. That is how HER mind works.

  We do NOT want Narcissa Malfoy as an Active Enemy.

  From the office of Research Three.

  ***

  Draco stared at the last paragraph, as he re-read it. Then he looked back to the top and re-read the whole thing. Then one more time, for good measure.

  He looked at Harry, who was obviously going to let him think things through. In the air before them, the yellow printing swirled down into a spiral, and popped.

  Draco looked over at the File's black folder, where a yellow spiral was just growing from nothing.

  "Miss Demelli," he said hesitantly. "I am at somewhat of a loss. I am hoping that, with your unique perspective, you could give me, not advice, but perhaps, some clarification?"

  The yellow spiral grew and shrank for a few moments. Then:

  Mr. Malfoy, please accept that I say this from a position of logic, acceptance and admiration for both you, and your remarkable mother. And I do realize the struggles both of you have gone through to reach this point. But, in the end, what it comes down to is this: The spiral swirled for just a moment.

  Damn. Your Mom is a Bad-Ass.

  "That..." Draco paused. "...is exactly what I needed to hear. Thank you."

  Harry decided it was time to jump back in. "When I decided to brief your mother on details of the investigation, without having her read in, I had not seen this report myself. I had no idea of the existence of The Committee. I was acting on pure instinct, based on the one real encounter I had with your mother."

  Real? The word printed on Demelli's cover was in a larger font than usual.

  "Shut down File, as per Procedure."

  I am getting SO sick of...! The words swirled down to drain into the black background.

  Harry waited to make sure the color was all gone before continuing.

  "Draco, when I told your mother that Lucrezia Zabini was one of the prime movers behind what was happening to both your families, the first three words from her mouth were, ' That... Bloody... BITCH!' I can not replicate the tone in which she delivered those words. It wasn't anger, at least not any type I have previously encountered. It was ice, and outrage, and malediction, all snarled up in a promise of retribution."

  Harry paused. "I honestly feared for my life. Then she met my eyes, and something inside me whimpered in relief. Because she wasn't unhappy with me..."

  "And then it was gone. Your cold, perfect Sacred Twenty-Eight Family mother was sitting across from me at a table that suddenly seemed entirely too small. She took a careful bite from a biscuit, a sip of her tea, and set the cup squarely in its saucer. 'Mr. Potter,' she said. 'I thank you for bringing this to my attention. I believe there are quite a few bits of information in my possession that will help you move your investigation forward. I will dispatch those bits, that... Diary, and another item you may find interesting. In return, I ask that you find some way to... leak the information that there is nothing at the Townhouse to interest these people. I am, of course, prepared to deal with any interlopers, but I would prefer that my Dear Lucius not be disturbed.' "

  Harry shook his head. "I felt as if I were being given homework by a somewhat scarier Minerva McGonagall. Then, she said, "I would also ask that you ensure the safety of my son, daughter-in-law, and grandson, but I am quite sure you have already done so. You are a remarkably competent young man, Mr. Potter.' "

  "Suave, debonair me said, 'Uh, thanks?' As I got up to leave, she gestured back over her shoulder, and the secret panel she had entered by re-opened. 'Never exit a place by the same path you entered it, as I am sure you know. Down the stairs, follow the tunnel to the T-junction and turn left. That will bring you out in the public area of the Palace Gardens. The roses are particularly lovely this year. I would advise you against continuing forward. That would bring you out in the late Queen Mother's Sitting Room.' "

  "I suppose I gawped at her. She noticed and smiled. "A lovely woman. I do miss her sometimes. One of her great-grandmothers was a Grimstead.' "

  "She took another delicate sip, and said, 'She did enjoy a good cup of tea.' "

  ***

  Draco looked stunned. Literally. His mouth hung open, and though it started to close every few seconds, he apparently lost track of it, and it drifted back down.

  He finally shook it off, and asked, "What in the world did you do?"

  "Me?" Harry spoke a little bitterly. "I took myself down the stairs, took the tunnel to the left, and came up in the Garden. And, yes, the damned roses are lovely this year. I did all that automatically, then stood there with Windsor Castle leaning over me, hiding who knows how many secrets."

  "Then I mentally slapped my own face, Apparated to the Ministry, barged into Kingsley's office, sealed us in and cast every Privacy Spell I know. I sat down in the chair facing his desk. I leaned over, elbows on the armrests, fingers laced in front of me, and stared him directly in the eyes."

  "I said, 'I have just come from interviewing Narcissa Malfoy about my on-going investigation. In case you are wondering, she almost made me wet my pants. So. Is there any other information you are not sharing with me?' "

  "He looked blank for a moment, and his eyes widened. Then he said, 'Ahhh..., maybe?' "