Disclaimer: As always I own nothing but the original characters, the situations the poor characters find themselves in, and the slightly altered lyrics. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy.
Okay, this was another idea that would have been a songfic if it had been allowed to be. Which it isn't so please listen to Susan Boyle or GLEE's version of 'I Dreamed A Dream'. The 'Les Miserables' version includes lyrics that don't work with the storyline I'm going for, though the clip of Anne Hatheway singing the song in the trailer for the movie was the best rendition I've heard because of the emotion put into it. Thanks.
I Dreamed A Dream
Pushing back the covers Narcissa Malfoy quietly slipped from her side of the bed, her husband unaware and still fast asleep. Slipping her feet into the slippers she kept by the side of the bed Narcissa carefully made her way over to her dressing table, retrieving the robe she kept there. Even with it on she was not warm, but she hadn't truly been warm in so long that she hardly noticed anymore. Such was the price of getting old, though that wasn't the true cause of the coldness that lived inside her and she knew it.
Taking a seat in front of her vanity she stared into the mirror in front of her, eyes taking note of every dip and curve, every wrinkle that lined her face and marked the passage of time. Her mind was still sharp enough, though often times she'd thought that if the fates were merciful they would have made her mind waste away instead of her body. Life would have been more bearable that way. But no, fate had not been kind, and in all honesty she couldn't blame it.
Eyes drifting down the matriarch of the Malfoy family picked up a hair comb she always kept out where she could see it. It had been a gift from her sister Andromeda when she was young, a hair ornament she'd loved as a child. She could recall, like it was yesterday, what it had felt like to have her sister brush out her hair for her and then braid and pin it up into elaborate updos, making her feel so grown up and loved. Her mother had never had times for such things, but Andromeda had always found the time somehow, likely because she'd never had anyone to do the same for her growing up. Bella had always sneered at doing such girlie things, always much more interested in the things their father had to teach her about the dark arts then in learning how to braid one's hair or play dress up.
Reaching up with a hand gnarled by age, Narcissa fingered the white braid that hung down her shoulder, thinking about the last time her sister had run her hands through it, working it into a French braid for her the morning they were due to head home after her sister's final year at Hogwarts. She'd sensed that something was up with her sister then but she'd never expected, never imagined what was to come.
That that would be the last time she and Andromeda would ever touch, would ever smile together.
)
She'd had their whole life together planned, Narcissa recalled, tears welling in her eyes but not falling. In her mind they'd get married to the men their father had picked out for them, produce the pureblooded children they were bound to have and be so very happy, so what they'd been raised to be. They were supposed to anyways be together, growing old together to the point where they outlived their husbands and moved in together afterwards with a house full of cats.
That dream had ended the day Andromeda had walked out of their house after being disowned, choosing her Mudblood boyfriend over her family. Over her.
At fifteen she hadn't been able to understand her sister's decision, hadn't had the maturity to see it from Andromeda's side. Yes she had lost her sister, but Andromeda had lost her entire family. She had loved Ted Tonks enough to do that, to give up her family, social standing and fortune. Now she could understand loving someone to the point where there was nothing you wouldn't give up, even other people you loved, for the sake of that person.
That was how she loved her son.
But then she hadn't known then and had lashed out in all her teenage anger and hurt. She'd torn to shreds the few letters her sister had sent before Andromeda had given up, had looked the other way and even crossed the street if she'd happened to spot her sister during an outing. She'd disowned the only family member who'd truly loved her, and had treated her with all the contempt she'd been taught to feel for any witch who allowed someone of Muggle blood to touch her.
She'd been so superior then, so sure that she was right to live the life mapped out for her since birth. How she'd sneered and smirked at the idea that her sister would soon rue her choices, would come begging for forgiveness which she would give after making her sister pay for every hour she'd had to do without her, every stain she'd cast on the family name that had made them ashamed to admit they were related to her. How she'd cherished the thoughts of how wretched Andromeda's life had to be without her, how her own was so superior with Lucius.
Picking up the wedding portrait from her table Narcissa studied it, seeing herself and Lucius through eyes that had seen and knew far too much. Eyes that saw beyond the picture of a perfect pureblood couple to the truth behind the image. She'd loved him then, still loved him even when she hated him with equal passion. It was so hard at times not to take the easy way out and blame him for all that had gone wrong in their lives, the price they'd all had to pay in the years following the rise of the Dark Lord. For the pain and suffering that had weighed on their son all these years, destroying his youth and promise. But no, she'd failed Draco too. She'd made bad choices right along with Lucius, and she didn't doubt that someday she would truly be made to pay for them.
The Dark Lord's promises had been so seductive, so in line with her upbringing, and had made so much sense at the time. She hadn't been as enamored with him as Lucius and Bella but she'd bought into it, had served him alongside the rest of her family.
In doing so she had lost her little cousin Regulus, and she'd ensured that never again would Andromeda ever so much as look at her.
They'd been the elite then, the best of the best, Narcissa acknowledged with a small sound of dark humor. To be a Death Eater was to be even better than just being a Pureblood. They were the companions of the Dark Lord, the most powerful wizard of their time. He'd made them believe that they would be the winds of change, that they would rid their world of its Muggle taint and finally take back the country that was theirs to rule and preside over. They'd been the most powerful, the most feared, nothing had been beyond their grasp.
And then it had ended.
She and Lucius had been lucky, her sister Bella had not. Lucius had managed to brush all they'd done under the rug, had painted them as victims who'd been forced against their will to act as they had. And it was then that she'd started to lose respect for him, to see the weaknesses in his character that they'd both refused to see.
But she'd had Draco, her precious baby to think about. Oh but she'd been so disappointed that he wasn't going to grow up in the world they'd been trying to make for him but at the same time…at the same time she'd been relieved too, unable to shake the feeling that perhaps it had been for the best that things had ended the way they had. Though she mourned Bella's incarceration, she'd been relieved to know her sister would no longer be in her life to interfere with it or Draco's. And she'd known that no more war or threats of revolution meant that her husband and son would be safe.
If only the Dark Lord had stayed dead.
)
Because they'd followed him once Lord Voldemort had seen their son as his to do with as he liked when he returned, and how could she have stopped him? Lucius had been imprisoned and Bellatrix had thought she should feel honored to have her son used as a sacrificial lamb. Her insane, frightening sister who had lost all humanity in Azkaban and would have killed her and Draco herself if they'd tried to run. Would have hunted them down and slaughtered them, she'd seen it in the eyes so like her own when her elder sister had seen how desperate she was to protect her son.
She'd thought of running to Andromeda then, had dreamed wild dreams of her sister coming to her rescue as she always had when Bella had picked on her when they were children. Dreamed of being able to share the burden and rely on someone who didn't crumble before the Dark Lord the way Lucius had.
Andromeda had never bowed to anyone.
Reality had always set in though, the fact that she had no right to go to her sister for help and that even if she did, there was nothing Andromeda could do even if she had been willing to help. Andromeda had a daughter to protect after all, though beyond the child's name she knew nothing of her niece. Or at least nothing positive about her, as all the opinions she'd overheard had come from Slytherin mouths.
So no, she hadn't asked Andromeda to risk her family to help hers.
She and Lucius had damned their son to a living hell, plain and simple.
They'd survived the war intact, her little family. Her decision to lie about Potter's demise had saved them from once again having to pay a price for the terribly things they'd done. And while some had seen this as a lucky break for them she'd known differently. Without being made to pay for their actions there could be no retribution, no forgiveness. No way to atone for her or her son.
And so she'd been punished for her failures as a mother, sister, and human being by not only living with the knowledge of the destruction she'd wrought in the world, but having to face the fact that while her family had remained whole Andromeda had lost all but her grandson.
Andromeda had lost her husband, her daughter and son in law because of her.
Because she had played a part in bringing that unimaginable agony on the one person who had once loved her unconditionally, who had done nothing to deserve such a fate and had been made to pay in her place. She hadn't held the wand that had killed any of them, but telling herself she was blameless would be like saying she couldn't be blamed for Andromeda being thrown out of the family either. Always she'd had choices, and always she'd made the wrong ones.
The fact that others were made to pay the highest price for her crimes was just one more weight upon her already weighed down shoulders.
That she was a wretched, hideous, horrible creature could not be denied every time she thought of her sister and grandnephew, who would never know his parents because of her. She'd practically become a recluse in the years that had followed, thinking that the very least she could do. If she stayed inside her home how much harm could she do? And Draco, her poor Draco, had needed her so after the war, staying inside as she did, away from all the eyes and the knowledge in them.
So much hatred in those eyes. So much pain.
All deserved.
)
Looking away from her mirror, unable to bear what she saw there, Narcissa resolutely turned in her seat and brushed out her long hair, the task so much more arduous now. It tired her out, such a simple chore. Astoria had kindly suggested a number of times that she consider cutting it, since she wouldn't let her daughter in law take over the task. But no, she clung to her long hair just as she clung so much to her past. To memories of what had once been. The possibilities that had existed then, roads still open to be taken.
What was that saying…something about how young people were all about the future because it was theirs, but the old were all about the past because they had no future to look forward to.
How darkly apt.
Her Scorpius was the future, so bright and strong and fierce. So ready to take on the world and to hell with what anyone had to say or think about his choices or lineage. So unlike Draco, who had lived to try and please his father. Scorpius was his own man.
Familiar sounds reaching her ears then Narcissa turned her head towards the bed, absently putting her brush down before carefully getting to her feet.
Walking over to Lucius's side of the bed, which took far longer than it should have, Narcissa stood over him as she watched the play of emotions over his sleeping face, his restless shifting around as the nightmare clawed at him like ravenous beasts. A sight she'd become used to since he'd been freed from Azkaban all those years ago, mind still intact but his being forever scarred from his time there.
Sometimes she felt sympathy for him, aching for him with all her heart. Other times she thought of Sirius and wondered if Lucius had known her cousin had been innocent and hadn't said anything. He'd fooled them into believing he had been bespelled back then, what would it have cost him to tell them he thought Sirius had been framed? Used their money and sway for that purpose. Bellatrix had been beyond their help, but maybe they could have done something for her remaining cousin.
But today seemed to be a day to feel nothing but pity, so she leaned down and shook him awake, watching him do so by degree. The look in his eyes such a mix of pain and terror, those emotions slowly fading out to be replaced by a deeper pain and quiet sorrow.
Trusting that she was no longer needed Narcissa left him again and went back to her dressing table, opting to put it up now since she knew her strength was waning as it was. And she put in the hair comb, her hand shaking as she did so.
When that was done she headed for her walk in closet, shuffling up and down the rows, stopping to finger certain garments that reminded her of happier times. The dress she'd worn to her son's wedding, another that she'd worn to Scorpius's graduation from Hogwarts. A shawl Astoria had knitted for her a few Christmases ago, and a truly ghastly skirt Lucius had once bought for her without proper supervision and guidance early in their marriage.
Lips curving ever so slightly at that memory, so long ago, Narcissa held onto it and the skirt as hard as she could for as long as she could before she had to let go, knowing that Lucius would come looking for her in concern if she took too long to return to their bedroom.
So she forced herself to walk over to the dress she would wear that day, wishing with her all her strength that it was not so. That she could wear another dress instead. Any other dress but this one.
Biting down on her bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood, Narcissa struggled not to cry as she reached out to grasp the hanger, her breath coming out in jagged pants as she wanted to do more than just cry. She wanted to sob and break things and rant and rave like the insane lunatic she wished she were. If only her mind were broken she wouldn't have to feel so much, know so much, remember too much.
She wouldn't have to deal with what was to come.
"Narcissa?"
"Coming."
She was a Black, first and foremost. Blacks did not cry, they did not weep, and they never, ever, admitted to having weaknesses, much less showing them, Narcissa reminded herself as she removed the dress, deliberately thinking of the disgust and revulsion Bellatrix and her parents had always shown when she'd become too emotional.
They'd always been so proud of Andromeda when they'd still acknowledged her as their daughter, her sister always so composed and ladylike, so refined and coolly in control of herself and any situation she was in. Even when father had thrown her out of the family Andromeda hadn't flinched, hadn't backed down.
Not a tear shed.
A tear sliding down each of her cheeks Narcissa hastily brushed them aside and then headed out of the closet with the dress draped over her arm. When she emerged Lucius was nearby, a brief hint of relief showing in his faded grey eyes before he moved to find his own clothes for the day, leaning hard on the cane he needed for support now instead of style.
While he did that she turned her attention to getting dressed, standing behind the dressing screen that was hers. Deliberately she blocked out what she was doing, moving automatically as she undressed and then put on her undergarments, then the dress.
And when that was done she moved out from behind the screen and walked over to the hat box she'd left sitting on her dresser the night before, a new purchase that she hadn't bothered to place with her other hats.
After today she would never wear this particular hat again.
Making herself turn and face the mirror again, Narcissa removed the hat from the box and placed it on her head, carefully settling it into place and making sure that it would stay put even if the day proved to be windy.
"Why are you dressed like that?"
Slowly turning around Narcissa faced her husband with all the control and strength she had left in her now frail body.
"Andromeda's funeral is today. Scorpius is coming in about an hour to take me."
And on that note Narcissa Black Malfoy got to her feet and walked around her husband and to the door, opening it and then gently closing it behind her.
The End