This story is dedicated to Aerileigh, who was also my beta for this story.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from the Harry Potter Universe.
White curtains swayed in the breeze as a redhead stood by the bedroom window, her straight hair flowing down her back. She was draped in a purple gown and diamonds dazzled around her neck. In her arms, she held a gurgling baby, his chubby hand reaching up to play with the large diamond medallion around his mother's neck, his eyes widening and legs kicking as his hand closed around the cold, hard pendant.
By the woman's side stood a man, his hair a shade of blond that reflected the dying rays of the sun shining through the window behind him. He stood proudly, staring down at the baby, and his eyes, which were usually cold, were soft and endearing. In that look, one could tell he loved the child unconditionally. He wrapped an arm around the redhead, drawing her close as they continued to stand at the window, his gaze lifting from the child to look at the person on the bed, the woman who birthed him.
Narcissa Malfoy, her blonde hair in a braid resting on her shoulder, was still, and at first glance, one would think she was dead, though she wasn't. Her chest rose slowly up and down, wrinkles on her brow as her closed eyes twitched. She was dreaming. Without warning, her eyes opened widely and she inhaled, sitting up quickly and looking around the room as if not expecting to be there. She frowned and settled back down on the bed with a resigned sigh.
The baby fussed in his mother's arms, reaching out to his father with chubby, short arms. His father, whose eyes were filled with worry for his ailing mother, could not resist the look of need on his son's face. Draco Malfoy reached out and took his son gently, holding him with care that not many outside of the walls of the Malfoy Manor knew he possessed.
"I will go and put him to bed," Draco murmured softly, rocking the baby in his arms. "He seems tired."
"I'll stay with your mother. It seems she's coming awake," his wife, Ginevra, said, her own face creased with worry. Her eyes fell to her son, and she placed a soft kiss on his forehead, whispering, "Goodnight, little prince."
"Send Wes if you need me before I come back," Draco replied before giving her a tired smile. "The night didn't quite turn out as planned, did it?"
Ginevra laughed, startling the baby in his father's arms. "Does it ever?"
"I resent the implication that my dates are anything less than perfect," Draco said haughtily, though his eyes danced with humor.
"Of course not," Ginevra said with a firm nod. "Now, go. Antony is going to sleep."
As Draco left the room, Ginevra stared at her mother-in-law, a look of sadness on the redhead's face. With a small sigh, the redhead turned around and looked out the open window, her eyes moving from the lilies Narcissa planted once a year, the flowers abundant throughout the garden, to the lily pond where a frog croaked idly on a rock. Behind her, Narcissa stirred.
Narcissa turned her head to the side and stared at the woman in the window. She gasped. The woman was beautiful. She looked ethereal standing by the window, her silhouette outlined by the fading sun, red hair flaming bright under the ambient light. Her dress flowed around her loosely, her curves only slightly outlined by the fabric. As Narcissa continued to stare, the woman turned around.
"Lily?" Tears formed in the elderly woman's eyes. "Lily, you've come for me."
"Narci—"
"Oh, Lily, I've missed you," Narcissa cried, reaching out to the redhead. "I lie in bed at nights and wonder what our lives would have been like had you lived."
"Narcissa, it's me, Ginevra," the redhead murmured, sitting down on Narcissa's bed. "I'm not Lily."
But it was as if Narcissa could no longer hear her; she was too lost in her own world. The blonde woman reached out and touched Ginevra's face, caressing her cheek. There was a far away look in her eyes. Ginevra sat in front of her, but the person she was seeing was Lily, her beautiful Lily. The young girl who she had taken to her bed, the one who she had lain with for many nights, side by side, holding her during her nightmares.
"Will you stay the night?" Narcissa slowly approached the bed where Lily sat, her legs folded under her, her hair stuck behind her ears, looking much younger than her nineteen years. "I'll wake you up in time to sneak home."
"I'll stay," she said quietly.
Narcissa bunched her silk nightgown in her hands as she climbed onto the bed, her eyes never leaving the redheaded beauty on her bed. She sat in the same position at the center of the mattress, sharing a soft look with her friend. Lily smiled at her once more and climbed off the bed, retreating into Narcissa's bathroom to change. She reappeared moments later, one of Narcissa's purple silk nightgowns on her body.
Lily smiled. "I like purple."
"It looks lovely on you," Narcissa breathed.
Narcissa climbed under the sheets, raising them so Lily could do the same. When Lily was safely under the covers, Narcissa turned all the lights off except for the dying embers in the fireplace. Those she left so that she could continue to stare at Lily, her eyes taking in the tantalizing pink lips illuminated by the soft light coming from the fireplace.
"You're going to marry him," Lily whispered, her voice swallowed up in the silence of the room. "Aren't you?"
"I have to—it's for my family," Narcissa murmured. She touched Lily's cheek, feeling the soft skin beneath her trembling fingertips. "When I do, we won't be able to see each other anymore."
Lily closed her eyes as if the thought were too painful to bear. When she opened her eyes again, Narcissa was closer to her. "I'll miss these moments."
"Me too, Lil. Me too," Narcissa replied, her voice laced with sadness. "But Potter will take care of you until the end of time. I know he will."
"He doesn't like that we're still friends," Lily said with a small smile. "I suppose he'll be happy now."
"It's for the best," Narcissa added, though she knew it didn't need to be said. "I—if you have nightmares, you can go to him now."
They were silent, and Narcissa folded her hands under her face, her long hair falling to touch her lips and cover her eyes, hiding the tears she held back. Lily reached out and pushed away the offending strands, her hand lingering on Narcissa's face, her knuckles brushing away the tear that escaped, the feeling raising the hairs on both girl's arms.
"Can I—Narcissa, can I kiss you?" asked Lily hesitantly. "Just once."
Narcissa didn't speak. Instead, she shifted her body closer, moving her lips until they were mere inches from Lily's. Then, lips were pressed against lips, sliding against each other, sensually, softly. Both girls' eyelids fluttered closed, their hands entwined, bodies pressed against one another as they pulled apart, keeping their eyes closed and drifting off to sleep.
Her face was unmoving behind the black veil, her eyes locked onto the words on the gravestone: Lily Potter. There were no tears in her eyes, no emotions on her face. Narcissa's body seemed as stone-like as the gravestone. Even her eyes lacked emotion and feeling. She removed the crushed lily from the pocket of her robes, noting that the leaves were as black as the dress she wore.
Black like death.
"Goodbye."
That was all she said. She dropped the flower on the grave and walked away. Every time her heel sunk into the wet dirt, another piece of her heart shattered. Every step she took away from the grave she wished to occupy-every step closer to the gate—she could feel her emotions boil to the surface, her face slowly crumpling, until it shattered beneath the veil, breaking down under the swelling sadness in her heart.
By the time she reached the gate, Narcissa Malfoy could no longer stand. She held onto the iron bars as her legs failed her. In one swoop, she was sitting in the green earth, the color contrasting with her dark attire, the grass bright like the sun that shone down on her, the light opposite of the dark mood that overcame her.
With a wretched sob, she cried, her body trembling, and her tears dropped into her lap until there were none left. There she stayed until the sun sunk and the moon rose, white like a lily, white like her skin.
"Narcissa," Ginevra murmured, gently shaking the older woman. "Narcissa."
Narcissa shuddered and began to cry. "She's gone."
"Who is she?" asked Ginevra, clenching Narcissa's cold, trembling hands in her own. "Was she a friend?"
"No. She was the love of my life, and I was too scared to admit it." Narcissa smiled through her tears. "You look like her, my Lily. But she had green eyes, not brown."
Ginevra froze. "You mean Lily Potter?"
"No, Lily Evans. Potter was her maiden name though. We loved one another dearly. I met her when she was only twelve, and I was seventeen. But she was my companion until we both left Hogwarts. Then it became so much more," Narcissa recounted, her voice airy but rough. "But it was too late. I was marrying Lucius and she, Potter."
"But—"
"My Lily, my beautiful Lily," Narcissa murmured. She stared at Ginevra. "I am dying, Ginevra."
"You're not—"
"I am." Narcissa touched a hand to Ginevra's lips. "Will you do me a favor?"
"Of course, anything," Ginevra said, tears coming to her eyes at her mother-in-law's resigned tone.
"Can I kiss you?"
Ginevra gaped. "What?"
"Just once, a small kiss." Narcissa cupped her face. "You look so much like her."
Ginevra did not have time to think when Narcissa sat up and kissed her. It was soft, chaste. Narcissa's lips were rough against Ginevra's soft, supple ones. The young woman was shocked and unmoving for a moment before, almost with a resigned shrug, she responded but only slightly, slowly.
Then Narcissa pulled back and smiled. "You're not my Lily."
"No," Ginevra replied with a sad shake of her head. "I'm sorry that you lost her."
"Me too, Ginevra. Me too," Narcissa said before lying back on the bed. She turned to the house elf at the side of the bed. "Get Lucius and Draco. Tell Draco to bring my grandson."
"Narcissa, are you alright?" Ginevra wondered about Narcissa's sudden change in demeanor.
"Perfectly so," Narcissa said. "I am dying, Ginevra. I want my family here."
"Narcissa, you are not—"
"I am," Narcissa said firmly, her gaze sliding to the window where the moon was making its first appearance. "Don't you see? She's come for me, my sweet Lily."
Outside, one of the lilies in the garden bloomed under the moonlight.