The battle of Hogwarts was finished. Potter had won, and Voldemort…Narcissa Malfoy looked over at him. He lay there, still, the shocked expression still visible in his dead eyes.
She knew what was next. With her sister gone, the child was in their hands. After all, Narcissa was the only person—besides Bellatrix and Voldemort-who knew about Alanna. She was her godmother.
"Draco," she hissed, extending her arms out to her pale-faced son. "Let's go home." The boy nodded, diverting his gaze from the Dark Lord's corpse. Lucius Malfoy also made his way towards his son and wife. He looked around the room.
"All these years…" he began, staring at the Dark Mark that had been seared in his arm many years ago. "All these years we have been frightened of this single man in front of us. But now, he's gone."
Narcissa placed a steady hand on her husband's shoulder. "Come…we must get back to our house. I need to tell you something, Lucius."
He glared at her in disdain. "Oh, is it about the child?"
Draco looked up in disbelief. "What are you talking about? What child?" But Narcissa said nothing. She gripped her son and husband's hands and Disapperated to the Malfoy Manor.
