The darkness clutched her in its tight fingers. She gasped and thrashed. The grip only tightened into unbearable pain. She struggled for a painful breath. She tried to scream. A strangled cry echoed, but Death's arctic fingers pressed to her lips. She was being pulled into a seemingly endless black pool, but for a moment, she managed to hit the bottom and breathed out. Death came closer, "Die fighting. He did."
Narcissa Malfoy gasped. Her dizziness faded. Sweat covered her and plastered her blonde tresses to her pale face. She curled up in a fetal position and allowed her tears to mingle with the sweat. In another time, she would have slipped into Sirius's room or he would come into hers. He always knew when she was crying.
Narcissa got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Her pale hands trembled as she picked out a glass and filled it with water. She brought the cup to her lips, but her throat was too tight. She lowered the glass a bit and threw it on her face. The water washed away the salty tears and sweat. She wiped her face with her nightgown's sleeve.
But still fresh in her mind was Death's words. Die fighting. He did. Was that really how Sirius died?
Nausea hit. Her body trembled. She went back to sit on the couch. Lucius was in jail; Draco was at school; Bella was off doing something for Voldemort. All alone, and the enormity of what Bella had done was still fresh in her mind.
When Bella had first come home, her news of Lucius's capture came last. She boasted first about killing Sirius, but her expected reaction from Narcissa didn't come. Narcissa had thrown down her wine glass at Bella's feet, the shards cutting her sister's exposed ankles, and, in tears, smacked her across the face. Bella stared in shock, but didn't respond otherwise.
Narcissa's nightgown was stuck to her. The nausea was unbearable. Nonetheless, the most painful thing was Sirius's unforeseen murder. As cruel as it sounded, isn't that what it was—murder?
Narcissa remembered every time they fought head to head, which was almost every hour. They had always been like that—opposites and identical. But there were times when Sirius was too busy to fight, and Bella, in a fighting mood, would annoy Andromeda and Narcissa.
"Bella!"
Andromeda and Narcissa traced their sister's footsteps. No one was in the house but Sirius and Regulus and they all knew that Bella's temper wouldn't allow Regulus's cool cynicism or Sirius's pitiless pranks.
But Narcissa wandered away. She didn't want to deal with Bella either. Andromeda would be fine by herself. If there was one way that Bella and Roma were alike, it was that they loved their privacy and prided their ability to be on their own.
Narcissa found Sirius sitting in the kitchen, an empty plate in front of him. He was trying to spell the Black family crest off, but to no avail. The crest sunk deeper into the plate and violently, he threw it across the room and it hit the wall, clattering to the floor without a dent. He sighed and said, "That's the tenth plate, Cissy!"
She smiled at him. "Tenth? No wonder Kreacher has had to clean so many plates!" Her smirk told him everything he needed and wanted to know. He managed a smile back.
They were kicked out of the kitchen by a frantic looking new house elf. They wandered up to her room, ignoring Bella and Andromeda's screams of odium. Laughing, they slipped into the room. Sirius didn't as usual. Instead, he lay down on his bed on his stomach.
Narcissa left the room and came back with her wand. She slid Sirius's shirt up and healed the cuts and bruises on his back. "You don't deserve this."
"Who does? But I'm a blood-traitor and proud of it. There are consequences to acting upon your beliefs, aren't there?"
"Yes," she replied timidly. "Why don't you go live with Uncle Alphard? He'll be glad to take you in."
"I can't. I won't show father I'm weak."
"You're too proud. That will get you killed, and I don't want that. Neither do you."
"I can't, Cissy. I just can't."
Narcissa grabbed the silk of her nightgown. She twisted in her hands. Bella would be back soon.
Five minutes later, Bella walked through the door of the Malfoy Manor pompously. "Another kill!"
Narcissa wasn't happy, and she didn't pretend like usual. She walked straight to Bella, slapped her across the face, and whispered, "You are not welcome here. Never come back, you twisted murderer."
Narcissa smiled to herself at Bella's shocked and angry face. But Bella said nothing. She turned and walked out the door again.
Narcissa collapsed onto the couch. Death had her in its clutches again. But her foot had hit the bottom, giving her one more moment.
AN: In continuation of my Sirius/Narcissa oneshots and some ideas partly from Scribbler of Dreams by Mary E. Pearson.