Narcissa visited Draco regularly when she could get through to him. She was certain that his infection with the dreadful disease was wreaking havoc on his confidence. Draco tended to either cling to his mother or hide away from her. Narcissa preferred the former, of course, but she would give him his space when he needed it. He was practically a grown man now, after all though he would always be her little boy.
She didn't fear Bole or anyone else particularly. At least not on her own behalf. She was distracted as she stalked down the corridor towards the dungeons looking for her son. She nearly bumped into a student, and gave them a death glare and a sharp, "mind where you're going." When she turned a corner, however, she felt cold all over. I stopped her in her tracks for a moment.