Author's Note: This takes place right after Chapter 2 of "The Bloody Babies." In this chapter, Molly is pregnant with Percy.
Narcissa entered Madam Malkin's. At first, she thought she was alone. Then, she heard a woman's voice saying, "I need more room to be made in this robe. The baby is growing real fast."
Even though Narcissa had not heard that voice often, she had heard it enough to recognize it as Molly Weasley's.
"Great," Narcissa muttered to herself. Even though her disdain towards the Weasleys wasn't as great as her husband's, she still didn't like the idea of having to be so near to the Weasley matriarch.
And Narcissa most definitely didn't want to hear Molly talking all about her latest baby. Didn't the woman already have a few? How many more did she honestly need? And how were her and her husband able to afford them all?
Narcissa, however, wasn't going to leave just because Molly was there. There was no way Narcissa was going to leave and come back later just because of a Blood-Traitor.
Molly suddenly stepped into sight, closely followed by Malkin and two small red-haired boys.
At the sight of the two children, Narcissa had to turn her head away, so that she didn't have to look at them and be reminded of what she didn't have.
"Mrs. Malfoy," Malkin's voice spoke. "It's so lovely to see you. What can I do for you today?"
Narcissa turned to look at the woman. Doing so, however, caused her to notice Molly's very huge belly. It was clear that the woman was very near to her due date.
Narcissa felt something catch in her throat. It had only been a few weeks since she had lost her second child. She could still vividly remember the sight of the bloody fetus on her bedroom floor. It had been tiny, but its arms, fingers, toes, and ears had been fully formed.
It should have been her and Lucius's second child.
Molly nodded her head in greeting, but it was clear from her face that she wasn't pleased to see Narcissa.
"Mama, are we done yet?" the taller of the two boys asked impatiently. "Can we go now?"
"In a moment, Bill," Molly answered calmly. "It will take just a moment for Madam Malkin to adjust my robes. Then, we can go back home."
Malkin looked over at Narcissa. The shop owner liked Molly, but she also didn't want to keep the Malfoy matriarch waiting for long. She didn't want to have to deal with any of the problems that she knew the Malfoys could cause her if Narcissa wasn't satisfied with the service that she received.
"Go ahead and finish with her," Narcissa spoke in a cold voice. "I can wait for the few moments that it will take for you to fix those poor-quality robes, and I don't want you to be distracted while you're taking your time on adjusting one of those robes over there for me."
As Narcissa was speaking, she gestured towards a rack full with expensive-looking robes.
Molly flushed slightly, but she didn't say anything.
Narcissa just sneered at Molly, keeping her eyes on the other woman's face.
But before she could help herself, Narcissa's eyes drifted downwards, once again taking note of Molly's huge belly and the two small children standing behind their mother.
The images of her stillborn daughter Ara and of the bloody fetus flashed through Narcissa's mind.
At that moment, Narcissa fully understood her husband's hatred for Arthur Weasley. Why were Blood-Traitors like the Weasleys allowed to have so many children, while Lucius and Narcissa had none? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right.
Lucius and Narcissa were proper Purebloods. They were the ones that were supposed to have it all, not the Weasleys.
Why were the Weasleys allowed to be such a cruel reminder of what Narcissa and her husband didn't have?
"Well, don't just stand there," Narcissa snapped at Malkin. "I don't want to wait forever. Finish up with her already."
"Of course, Mrs. Malfoy," Malkin replied, immediately jumping to make adjustments on Molly's tight robes.
Narcissa sneered at Molly one last time. Then, she looked away, acting as if the other woman wasn't worth her time or effort.
But Narcissa still hated Molly.
And the deep pain that Narcissa was feeling continued to grow.
