Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling; I merely play with her creation. This was written for Cheeky Slytherin Lass' The Potter Games Competition and uses the following prompts: feather, watching the rain, whisper, ruin and the Stevie Nicks' lyric "Well, I've been afraid of changing because I built my whole life around you." I hope you enjoy!
Pale as the moonlight, a woman watched the falling rain. Her blonde hair rippled down her back and her face was wan, desperation and fear vying for control. She was still beautiful, but she seemed increasingly fragile. She was lost in thought, her mind a maelstrom of memories and reflections. Try as she might, she couldn't drag herself away from the problems that plagued her family and the crashing rain seemed to be tormenting her, a reminder of the tears she had shed. Unwillingly, another trickled down her porcelain cheek and she angrily wiped it away.
Unlike many unhappy families, the issues she faced were not marital. Narcissa Malfoy loved her husband. Despite popular opinion, her marriage was based on mutual trust and understanding. Their love, unusual as it was, had stood the test of time and she was still hopelessly devoted to Lucius and, incredibly, he felt the same way. She also, quite unequivocally, loved her son. For many years, she had had the perfect family. Indeed, she had built her life around them. They were her world, and she was quite content with this. In fact, it was all she'd ever needed.
Then why, after all this time, was it in ruins? Everything she'd ever wanted was threatened, and she loathed it. Despite her best efforts, their little family was becoming increasingly beleaguered and Narcissa harboured the very real fear that they would not make it through the war. She fought the resurfacing tears and turned her attention to the weather, determined to redirect her thoughts. The rain fell in sheets, lashing the house and the ground with unnecessary venom. Blades of grass fell under the assault, flattening by water and a howling wind. Attacked from all sides, Narcissa felt a stab of empathy with the ravaged garden and resigned herself to the dark images swirling around her brain.
She, too, was being assailed by an unassailable force. The Dark Lord's face flashed in her mind, a bolt of lightning that rent her thoughts in two, and she winced. Ever since the Ministry debacle, Lucius had been playing a dangerous game. In some ways, he had been safer in Azkaban. The Dark Lord had been highly displeased with his failure and the wizarding prison had been a relatively merciful punishment. But without him, Narcissa had struggled to cope. She had been driven to ask Severus for help, prepared to divulge the Dark Lord's deepest secrets in an attempt to save her son, and hadn't regretted it for a moment. Draco – her beloved Draco – had been given a hopeless task and it had torn her apart, her inability to help him the worst punishment of all. She'd had no doubts about his intelligence, but he was – fundamentally – good. Despite outward appearances, Narcissa had known he could not kill.
And she'd been oddly proud of this.
After Severus stepped in, her family had become veritable pariahs and they walked on tiptoe around the other Death Eaters. Even Bella, her own sister, regarded Lucius with disdain and Draco's fear was palpable. But what could they do? Many times, Narcissa had contemplated running, but she knew they couldn't. He would find them and all chances of life and hope would be lost. They were virtually housebound, and all freedoms had been stripped away.
Vindictively, she blasted a silken cushion. It was petty, but it helped release a knot of tension, helped her pretend that she had a modicum of control. Feathers flew everywhere, effortlessly mesmerising. As they drifted to the ground, they seemed to glint, dancing lightly through the air. It was oddly beautiful.
Somehow, the momentary serenity cleared her mind. Delicately replacing her wand, Narcissa looked unseeingly at the rain-covered landscape and came to an uncomfortable truth. If she wanted to save them, she had to change. It was the only way.
Before Draco's induction, Narcissa had accepted the Dark Lord's plans without objection. As long as her family was safe, she'd accept anything. Her passive nature had been riled, however, by the Dark Lord's actions and passivity no longer seemed the wisest course. In the past, despite her uneasiness about some of his actions, Narcissa had kept her doubts at bay and professed adoration. Change, and subsequent rebellion, had been a terrifying concept. But as soon as the Dark Lord had threatened her family, everything had changed.
And so had Narcissa.
He had, once again, underestimated a mother's love.
"I cannot sacrifice my family," Narcissa whispered, confessing her darkest secret to the shadows. Moving closer to the window, and leaving a trail of snow-white feathers in her wake, she peered at the sky. It may have been her imagination, but she thought it had lightened slightly. The rain was becoming less heavy, slowing to a drizzle, and the blades of grass no longer seemed so helpless. Her garden was fighting back.
It was in that moment, when she was given the briefest respite from the storm, that she made the decision to change. If it came to a choice between the Dark Lord and her family, she would choose the latter. Every time. She'd even support Harry Potter, if that was what it took. Because she loved Draco and Lucius with an intensity that frightened her, and they were more important than any struggle for power, more important than any ideological battle. They were her life, and without them it was not worth living.
So as the rain resumed, pounding on the roof and grounds, Narcissa's loyalties shifted. If she wanted to emerge from the ruins, she had to put her family first. And this decision would, indirectly, change the path of the wizarding word.
