Narcissa Malfoy brushed her hair lazily as she watched the sun's waning rays. Draco had been out for quite a while, and it was almost time for supper – she wondered if something might have happened to him. But then, she told herself, he was Draco. He had a tendency to wander off for days at a time and come back without any explanation whatsoever. Narcissa and Lucius .. they'd learned to simply accept it without questions.
As she stared off into the sunset, Narcissa reflected on her only son.
She closed her eyes and remembered the days of his laughter ringing in the Malfoy Mansion, of the innocent smile always on his lips. She remembered his tinny voice calling her name as he ran to show her his newest paintings. Draco had been such a sweet boy. It pained her heart to have watched him grow into who he was now.
Soft white-gold hair. Delicate features, so strong and yet so deceptively soft. Cool gray eyes - much too reminiscent of his father. And such an unimpassioned heart, frosted with a layer of ice. An angel, frozen in the sands of time.
Narcissa heard the gates to the mansion open while creaking noisily, as if admonishing their master for returning so late. She rose from the bench, and slowly walked back inside. Her son was standing there, proud and untouchable as ever. In his arms he held a small foundling, a baby girl.
She had beautiful chestnut curls, framing her heart-shaped face as though she was a porcelain doll. As Draco stroked her cheek with a pale hand, she fluttered her eyelashes and yawned. Her eyes were a brilliant amethyst, sparkling with almost too much wisdom to be those of a child.
"Her name is June," was all Draco said.
Narcissa nodded, not asking any more. She watched her son walk up the stairs, cradling the child in his arms. She didn't take her eyes off of him until she saw his slender figure retreat into a lavish bedroom, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
Maybe, just maybe, he wasn't so cold after all.
fin.
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