"Regulus was weak and young," Narcissa said impatiently. "Whatever similarities you might feel bind you together - whatever you make of his choices - I knew him, I saw him grow up, I saw the kind of boy he was and he is not good for you." She was his mother, she ought to still get to decide these things. Draco might be headstrong, but Narcissa had grown up in a world full of headstrong men and still found ways to make her voice and authority heard. She was getting angry - with Regulus, for daring to return, for daring to go near her child. He had no right to.
And then the other member of the living dead reared his ugly head. Narcissa's eyes, blazing a fierce blue, snapped onto Draco's. Lucius was masquerading as his own illegitimate child?
It was a slap in the face that her husband who'd died would never have contemplated. Draco didn't know all the ins and outs of their relationship, and if Narcissa had her way he would never know, but one thing had always been clear. Nothing would ever be done that could embarrass either of them in any way. Lucius hadn't always stuck to the letter of his marriage vows, and for that matter nor had Narcissa, but even had she not been in the picture, Lucius would not have done something so monumentally stupid.
Never mind that he had no reason to leave the manor and make his presence known in the world. Never mind that it made Narcissa look like a dupe and a fool, even if she claimed she had known about the child all along. It was a smearing insult on her dead husband's memory, and it made her furious.
"This," she told Draco, in a cold, strong voice, "is getting entirely out of hand. You'll leave it to me. I will handle Regulus, I will handle Lucius, and there will be no need for anyone to make up lies about your father. Do you understand?"