Hey Lovelies!

On Archive of Our Own, quite a few people expressed interest in reading about the events from Eagle Princess, my time travel Dramione fic, from Narcissa's POV, so I decided to give it a shot. Updates on this might get a bit erratic, but since I'm planning to keep the chapters from 2 to 5k at most, everything should work out quite alright. Well, hopefully.

Besides, my best friend loves the Snape and Narcissa interactions, so now I'm writing an entire story about it.

That being said this whole thing has a plot and a mapped out storyline with a climax that will tie into the Eagle Princess Universe (Gods that sounds pretentious as hell but it's 3 am in Austria so cut me some slack :)), however since the format is a bit less restricted, I'd be open to suggestions if anybody wants to hear from other POV characters. For now Severus and Narcissa are the only POVs I am planning on doing.

Theoretically speaking I'd say this fic can be read on its own, although it'll be littered with cross references, or even dialogue pieces from the main story, if they are relevant to the plot so I'd highly recommend at least skimming through the original. In particular the first few chapters, where most of my AU elements are part of the plot.

Pairings:

Severus Snape and Narcissa Malfoy

Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger

At this point I'd like to caution in advance that romance is NOT the main focus of this story and yes, Snape and Narcissa are my intended endgame somewhere down the line in Eagle Princess, so both of them will most definitely be attracted to each other at one point during this story. That being said, both of them come with a rather substantial emotional package. Narcissa is still very much struggling with her abusive husband and Severus, well there's always Lily Potter where he is concerned and getting over your first love when your actions led to her untimely demise is well... rather difficult.

And well, as for my darling Draco and his future love... He's, of course, very much in love with her, so there'll be quite a few references to him being smitten with Hermione, but give the poor bloke some time to woo his girl. Things like that simply don't happen over night.

Usually not one for trigger warnings, but Lucius is an asshole, so marital rape might get referenced or even described in detail, although I don't expect to get too graphic. Violence in general will be a common theme. Child abuse, too and Narcissa had stillbirths and miscarriages in the past, so if that bothers you, you might want to skip a few paragraphs.

And keep in mind that Narcissa is very much a product of her highly conservative upbringing and environment in regards to sex, women's rights etc. Letting go of deeply ingrained ideas is often far more difficult than people make it out to be...

Sry for the long author's note, don't know how they always end up being a lot longer than I had initially intended... (J&P just don't say anything, I already know what it is and nope you two are completely wrong!)

I don't own Harry Potter... unfortunately, otherwise I'd be writing this from my villa in Bali ;)

Chapter 1: Knocking on Heaven's door

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

The world was quiet. Silvery moonlight filtering through a narrow crack in the curtains, disrupting the blanket of darkness that had settled over the tastefully decorated bedroom Narcissa Aurelia Malfoy nee Black usually shared with her husband. Now, it was only her shallow breathing that reverberated in the night air. Two weeks prior her husband had taken an international portkey to France, called away on urgent business and Narcissa would have been lying if she had claimed to miss him.

Quite the opposite to be exact.

Their marriage had never been a happy one. Arranged as so many others, a match based entirely on political considerations rather than personal compatibility. Malfoys and Blacks. Dragons and stars. When two children had been born to the two most influential pureblood families, their wedding had been treated as a foregone conclusion. The betrothal contract written and signed before either child had even celebrated its first birthday. It went without saying that Narcissa had not been the intended bride...

Andy...

Even now, almost twenty years after the fact, the irretrievable loss of her oldest sister was a constant pain she had never quite managed to shake. She had been twelve at the time, gentle and kind Andromeda the object of her innocent hero worship and when she was gone, Narcissa had mourned for her beloved sister with the same intensity as if death had truly claimed her. In a way it felt like he had.

Time had never healed that particular wound and as the years had passed, her initial heart-clenching sorrow had partially soured with resentment. Relief that Andromeda seemed to have found happiness in her unconventional marriage warring with bitterness at the fact that her sister had abandoned her so easily. Choosing a man over her family and leaving Narcissa to pick up the pieces, to marry the monster her husband had turned out to be.

'A Malfoy is not to be denied!'

Her wedding night had been anything but gentle, her virginity, a prerequisite of any pureblood union, torn to shreds as Lucius had rammed into her from behind without even the slightest hint of preparation. An altogether unpleasant affair the ebony haired witch had taken no pleasure in, nevertheless, she had not once cried out in agony, instead opting to grit her teeth determinedly and bear her fate with the ice cold stoicism her mother had drilled into her.

Women were not meant to take enjoyment in the act anyway, though Narcissa could not deny that there had been a handful of instances where she had actually believed to feel a faint fluttering of pleasure during her and Lucius' many couplings. Usually in those exceedingly rare instances where her husband did not waste his time by manhandling her first, however, more often than not, her body's positive response made her feel dirtier than anything else ever could.

A small cracking sound rang through the heavy silence and Narcissa could not quite keep her brows from narrowing slightly in confusion. Never mind that she was almost grateful for the distraction, given that sleep was still evading her, but Misty usually should have known better than to disrupt her Mistress so long after nightfall. However, before she had found the time to issue a gentle reprimand to that effect, the little creature had snapped it's finger, lighting up all the bee-wax candles she had so carefully placed throughout the room, panic colouring its screechy voice.

"Mistress, Dobby is sorry... So sorry... But mistress musts come and see. The young master... Hes is screaming and burning. It is not right... Not right at all. Dobby doesn't know what to do."

"Draco?" Alarmed Narcissa slipped out of bed, not even bothering to make herself look more presentable, as she hurried out of the door. Bare feet flying across the cold stone floor, its echo travelling down the empty corridor. Untamed black ringlets cascading down her back, the sheer nightgown clinging to her body.

Draco.

My son.

My sweet, sweet son.

My little miracle.

At the time of Draco's conception, Narcissa had already lost three children. Two of them she had miscarried towards the end of the first trimester, but the third babe, a boy she had quietly named Perseus, had lasted in her womb for seven long months of joy and anticipation, only to be delivered stillborn. A miniature angel... She only got to hold him once, after all the blood had been washed away. He had lain in her arms so peacefully one might have believed him to be asleep.

To call her inconsolable afterwards would not have done her devastated state of mind any justice. Grief had enveloped her in a dark haze of sorrow and misery that had lasted for more than a year. Right until she had realised that her moonblood had not returned for four full months and a son had once again begun to grow within her.

All through her pregnancy with Draco, Narcissa had barely allowed herself to hope for a healthy babe, fearing that life would tear her chance at happiness apart at any given moment. When the midwife had presented her with the child, a true Malfoy, even then, with his platinum hair and steel-grey eyes, she had felt hot tears of relief rolling down her cheek.

One sister had joined her brother in his too small grave, another had not even survived past the third month before Narcissa had finally given up on her hope for a second living babe. Evidently Draco was a blessing not to be repeated and she could not bear the thought of having to bury another child. Ever since the, she had secretly consumed a contraceptive potion, claiming that the heavy complications during Atalanta's birth had rendered her body unable to sustain any further pregnancies.

Sagittarius, Antares, Perseus, Draco, Cassiopeia, Atalanta.

So many little blessings.

Only one of them will ever know adulthood.

My dragon amongst the stars.

And yet, I can't protect him...

Can't hold him like a mother should.

Can't even reassure him of my love.

As far as her only child's upbringing was concerned, Narcissa had been relegated to the sidelines, a silent spectator, watching helplessly from the shadows as Lucius shaped his heir as he saw fit. In the eyes of the law, a son's education and discipline was a father's duty! Narcissa's part had begun and ended with the task of birthing him, or at least that was the way things had always been done amongst the pureblood families. Daughters would have been a slightly different matter, but even in their case Lucius' will as the head of the Malfoy family would have superseded hers as its matriarch.

'A son doesn't need a mother's meddling! Coddling a boy will only make him soft, where he's supposed to be strong, wilful where he's supposed to be obedient and foolish where he's supposed to be cunning.'

Draco could have been hardly older than a toddler when Lucius had begun to limit Narcissa's access to her precious little boy, as was his right, no matter how much it tore her apart to keep her distance from her only son. In the beginning she had fought back in the only way she could, growing well-versed at inserting herself into her son's schedule without alerting Lucius to the fact. Treasured memories of tutoring him in French and Latin, the first one as a nod to the roots of the Malfoy lineage and the latter to lay the groundwork for Draco's future understanding of spell development and meaning.

Lucius had been positively livid when he had found out a few weeks prior to Draco's sixth birthday. Nevertheless, Narcissa might have continued her scheming if her husband had chosen her as the target of his frustrations. Instead he had dragged Draco off into the next room, threatening to double the punishment their son was about to receive if she dared to move even an inch. Fearing the consequences, Narcissa had not dared to intervene, forced to listen as her son's tortured cries of pain had echoed through the walls. Since then she had obediently kept her distance, lest she might end up endangering Draco even further.

Five years had passed since then and Narcissa could already see the effects of Lucius' brutality and her own negligence. Could see the shadows marring her son's all too serious face, the cold exterior he presented to the world, adept at keeping his true intentions hidden. For now he was still young, but how long before the mask of icy countenance became a permanent fixture on her son's face? How long until he got consumed by rightful anger and resentment?

Draco, her precious little boy, who yearned so desperately for his father's approval, but only ever earned scorn and reprimand. Who had only ever known biting words and the back of a fist. Whose mother would not even look his way for fear of rousing her husband's temper, even while said husband was not even in the same country. Draco, whose all too observant eyes would only ever truly come to life in the presence of Severus, Narcissa's most cherished friend and Draco's godfather, but also the most reclusive wizard she had ever known. Knowing that her son regarded Sev as a mentor, perhaps, even a parental figure, all the while resenting her... Suffice to say that sometimes the very thought was enough to make her mad with jealousy at her childhood friend.

Of course any such musings were, without exception, immediately followed by a crawling sense of guilt. Not only because Narcissa knew that she should feel truly grateful that Draco had at least someone in his life who was willing to fill some of the void her and Lucius failure as his parents had created, but also because she was probably the only person who knew about the terrible guilt her friend carried with him, even after all those years.

I should be glad that they are so good for each other.

Despite his reserved demeanour it was plain as day that Severus cared for Draco like any father should care for his son and in turn her son's presence seemed to give her friend's worldweary soul a much needed reprieve from the heavy burden that weighed on his shoulders. Both of them deserved whatever happiness their shared companionship might grant them. How could Narcissa dare to taint their bond with her own pettiness, just because she envied their closeness, because she felt excluded by the two men who mattered more to her than anything else in this Salazar forsaken world.

And now my son is sick... Looks bad enough to send Dobby into a frenzy, even though the healing skills of house elves are more than enough to deal with all the conventional illnesses, never mind a simple fever. There's a reason why so many wizards entrust them with the care of their children!

Finally she had reached the door to Draco's bedroom, her son's groans filling the night, muffled through the heavy oak wood. Mind jumbled by her haste to reach him, Narcissa gracelessly tumbled into the room, coming to a sudden halt as she took in the scene in front of her.

Her usually impeccably groomed son looked a fright, pale skin contrasting starkly against the dark bruises around Draco's closed eyelids, cold sweat covering his forehead with a thin layer of dampness, all colour had drained from his lips as he tossed and turned, violent shivers spasming through his body. "No. Please... Pl... Please don't... Father, please. You can't. Not her. I swear I'll do what you want... She's your wife... Father, you can't. Maman, I... Why can't I help her? Why? I'd never... Never, do you hear me? You love her too... I can feel it... Father doesn't, but you... I'm shaking, so you, you must want to help her too. Why don't you? Why, you bastard?"

Tears burst from the eleven year old's eyes, painting a trail of wetness across his hollow cheeks, and Narcissa rushed forward, her son's name falling from her lips like a prayer. Her trembling hands reaching for his forehead, only to flinch back as Narcissa felt the heat boiling beneath her fingertips. The wild magic vibrating through the air around them. Whatever had caused Draco such pain it was most certainly nothing natural, only very strong magic could produce such symptoms.

"Oh Draco."

Hasn't he suffered enough?

"No..." All his earlier vehemence had evaporated from Draco's body, his voice a hoarse plea of utmost brokenness. Vulnerability creeping into his demeanour, as he struggled against his invisible demons. "No... Mother... Please! Kill me instead, father... Please! No! No..."

Merlin help me...

"Shhh, mon cheri. Shhh. Everything's gonna be alright." Willing her voice into a soothing cadence Narcissa gently swept a strand of damp hair out of Draco's face, keeping her calm despite the fact that all she wanted was to break down and sob her heart out. Too overwhelmed by the onslaught of emotions her son's desperate cries had unleashed inside of her. "I'm here Draco. Just focus on my voice, mon cheri. I need you to come back to me."

I can't loose you!

Not now!

Not ever!

"Ma... Maman? Wh... Oh." His eyelids fluttered, but soon enough he seemed to sink even deeper into the mattress, a note of defeat entering his posture, shoulders slumped as if all hope had left him at once. "Another dream, then..." What little composure Narcissa had managed to cling onto vanished in that moment, her heart splintering into a thousand little pieces at hearing the secret longing in Draco's voice paired with tired resignation. How often had she denied him her love? Had avoided his hopeful gaze, out of shame and fear?

"It's me mon cheri. I'm here! You'll see... You'll be alright... I promise!" Narcissa heard her own voice crack on the last syllables, fingers shaking as they tightened around Draco's narrow wrist. Willing her son to remain in the present, although she could already see him drifting away, once again loosing himself in the darkness, his ramblings quickly declining in coherency

"It hurts, Maman. The fire and then the dreams... There's too much! And nothing makes any sense... You died and I couldn't... and father... I hate him... I hate him so much it physically hurts. There's more, though. Harry Potter's terribly overrated... But she seems to like him... Not me, though... Never, me... Told me I'm a vile, loathsome, evil, little cockroach... Punched me too, I think. Better that way... 'Mudblood'... So pretty, though. Amber and periwinkle... and lilacs... always the bloody lilacs..."

He broke off, a new round of spasms shaking his body to the core, finally propelling Narcissa into action, ordering Dobby, who had silently witnessed the entire exchange, what kind of potions she had settled on trying before turning to the experts in St. Mungo's. However, while she was working her way down the inventory she had memorised, Narcissa could not quite shake the foreboding feeling that nothing she could do would show much of an impact on Draco's state. Not when there was ancient magic at work, forces that far surpassed anything she had ever felt before.

I've got to try at least!

I can't loose him...

I can't...

I can't...