"He is not your son," Narcissa hissed, eyes flashing angrily. She seldom lost her temper, but when she did it was when her resemblance to Bellatrix was strongest. "Draco is your son. The bastard is a mistake that happened because you were too stupid to dispose of your whore properly." She took a breath to calm herself, and then carefully began to unwind the complicated braids in her hair.
If her fingers shook from anger, no one had to know. "Don't expect me to have any sympathy for the brat. He knew exactly what he was doing, waiting until Hogwarts to contact you. Smart of him, really," Narcissa said, carefully controlling her voice. The only sign of temper was the flush in her cheeks now. "To wait until everyone but you would be aware of him, and his disappearance would hardly go unnoticed."
Now that she was thinking more clearly, she could see the cleverness behind the move. An accident would be hard to explain away at Hogwarts, regardless of the disregard Dumbledore had for student safety. "So, what's your clever plan, Husband. How are you going to deal with this problem without humiliating your true son." Her voice caught on the last word, but she refused to use tears as a weapon. That was a weak woman's move, and Narcissa Malfoy was not weak.