Something quick, that has been on my mind for a couple of days. Couldn't get rid of it, can't be distracted for exams, had to write it down.

Let me know what you think.

Everything belongs to JK Rowling, not me.

And her blonde hair, slicked to the scalp with sweat, whipped about her dampened cheeks and wide blue eyes as she was sent tumbling to the ground once more. Her hands stopped her fall abruptly but seared with pain as they hit the sharp rocks underneath her.

And as she let herself sink slowly to the ground, she noticed it was wet where it hadn't been before. Looking quickly and frantically between the rocks that were darkened with moisture and her enlarged stomach, she knew exactly what had happened.

A scowl met her eyes as she peered upward.

"Narcissa. Get yourself up. Must you constantly hold us back?"

But honestly, it was his bloody fault she was in this situation, wasn't it? Damn his ego, damn it to hell.

These thoughts ran through her head in the split second that she opened her mouth, ready to tell him off for his temper, as she always did.

And yet she felt herself, jaw slack, staring up at him blankly.

"Narcissa, did you hear me? Get yourself up."

The baby gave a dreadful kick as she felt herself go into a contraction and she doubled over. It reminded her of her location, of her position. Her black cloak had fallen over her head, revealing her ashen face.

If she told him, they would be discovered. They wouldn't go on.

"I'm coming, Lucius." Even her voice was bleak, empty.

"Not fast enough, Narcissa. Not ruddy fast enough."

She was struggling and stalling deliberately and he held out his cane, but it was of no use. Minutes went by and feet dressed in black leather shoes tapped impatiently by her side.

And all of a sudden, he was gone.

She heard footsteps vaguely. He had left her to the mercy of the enemy, because she hadn't been quick enough for him. He had left her, and their son, to die.

Reaching inside the folds of her cloak for her wand, she attempted a very advanced invisibility spell but in her weakened condition it was hardly helpful. However, it seemed to camouflage her well enough for the time being, and she collapsed in defeat before another contraction hit her and she doubled over once more.

This was not how she ever imagined it would be.

And her red hair fell softly from her ponytail around her darkened green eyes as she waited impatiently for him to come back to assure her it was safe. Those around her were backed away slightly, not afraid of her as much as they were of her infamous temper (heightened significantly by her raging hormones).

He had been completely against any activity for the Order in her state, but she had tried, upon hearing his opinions, to convince him otherwise (and had succeeded, for the most part). He was still taking ample precautions.

But she knew that she was needed, regardless. She wasn't fighting, necessarily, although they were on enemy ground. She was a Healer, and the need for someone in her occupation had been so desperate that they couldn't have afforded for her to stay home.

Sparks were seen over the treetops and they were running with her following closely behind.

She heard a whimper.

Stopping in her tracks, she wondered vaguely why it was that a small whimper such as the one she had heard would hold so much importance as to cause her to halt.

But she had a feeling that it was something much more than merely a whimper. It sounded like a whimper of pain, of sorrow, of…need?

Head whipping from side to side, she spotted a flash of blonde hair and walked cautiously towards it. The better judgment she had worked so hard to uphold was falling away slowly, a result of ignorance.

She came upon the woman as her obviously poor invisibility charm wore off. She was sitting on a pile of rocks that were soaking wet, her hands providing support for her large stomach.

Green eyes met blue. Two sharp intakes of breath.

And a kit of potions and tools was being taken hurriedly from a leather bag. A harsh cry of agony was heard and a decision was made.

For once and for the last time, the enemy was common, shared.

"Narcissa."

"Lily."

Green eyes met blue. A deal was sealed.

They would speak of this to no one.