This might be a one-shot, but I don't think it will be - I just need to find time to write a second chapter x I've had this in my head for a while, so... I always felt really sympathetic towards Narcissa x Please read and review xx
Narcissa had never really wanted to become a Death Eater. She was the good one, the baby of the family, the one who could do no wrong. Too afraid to follow in either the footsteps of Bellatrix or Andromeda.
When she'd first met Lucius she'd been in first year. He'd been in second year but he'd already noticed her, the youngest daughter of a prominent pureblood family. She'd noticed him, the scion of the Malfoy line, the only heir. It was her duty as a Black to notice.
But it wasn't until her fourth year she was really interested. Until then she'd been keeping her options open, considering all the available heirs and buttering them up. She already knew she was beautiful and being a female Black made her desirable, despite the black mark on their record for the eldest girl having married a mudblood.
She'd been sitting by the lake, alone, contemplating doing her homework and pointedly not admiring the beauty of the view (Black's were not supposed to show emotion after all). He'd sat next to her and they'd simply talked for the next ten minutes, the kind of talk Slytherin was famous for, talking without actually saying anything. He was good at it - and so was she. And in this time, where more and more people seemed to lose the art of proper Slytherin conversation, that was fairly impressive - incredibly impressive in fact. He'd just been moved to the top of her eligible bachelors list.
It wasn't exactly hard. He was handsome, wealthy and intelligent. What more could a girl ask for?
Bu the time she was in fifth year they were officially courting, as sanctioned by both their families. Her mother and aunt were delighted, as was her sister (who was engaged to marry the Lestrange scion). She dared not think of what Andromeda thought.
Lucius' family also seemed happy with the match, a thought that pleased her.
Maybe, just maybe, if the political climate remained stable, she would have a happy, peaceful and loving marriage.
When she'd walked down the aisle two and a half years later she was still hoping.
By the time she was pregnant, the political climate was increasingly unstable, even if Lucius had not officially decreed his side yet. But she knew what he would chose. And would follow him because she loved him.
After her son was born Narcissa was no longer particularly interested in the political climate, except for when she was worrying about her son's future. She made sure to keep all of these thoughts locked behind tight mental barriers, even within her own home. Her and Lucius were not as close as they once were, as he drifted away slightly, closer to his Lord, with the promises of more power, more wealth.
Narcissa didn't really care for the promises. She just wanted him to come home to her.
That had always been her problem. She was too emotional for a Black, no matter how good she was at pretending otherwise.
Her son was the light of her life and she was not afraid to say that she'd attempted to coddle him. She's been stopped by her husband who had regretfully told her that spoilt children were of no use to the Dark Lord. By now Narcissa didn't really care who was in charge.
She wanted her husband at home and her son away from his nanny.
It wasn't until over a year later that it happened. She had been waiting at the window for her husband, her son fast asleep in the crib. Tonight she had put him to bed, something she was only allowed to do rarely. She had missed it.
The night was dark and still, something ominous in the air. She thought that tonight, maybe, everything would change, even if she couldn't pinpoint exactly why she thought that. Her sons blonde hair shone in the bright of the moon, like starlight, the only hope in the darkness and she could see the reflection of her own blonde tresses glint in the darkness.
Out of the darkness, like smoke, swirled a figure, landing on the only spot you could apparate to on the grounds. It was a carefully hidden secret and required a password as well as admittance from the wards and all of those told her that it was most likely her husband. As the figure for closer, she could see for certain that it was, his own hair practically glowing, as he sprinted for the house. Seeing his frantic movements Narcissa abandoned the window and ran down the stairs, praying she hadn't disturbed her son. They met in the grand hall and she practically launched herself at him and put a hand around his wrist to ground him.
He blinked, his wife coming into focus before abruptly turning and dragging her into the study, which he knew was well protected against eavesdroppers.
"The Dark Lord is gone!" He exclaimed the moment the door swung shut.
"What?" Narcissa gaped.
"He has been vanquished. By the Potter boy!"
"The Potter boy? He's younger than Draco!"
Lucius nodded absently. "I don't know entirely what happened yet. Only that of the Dark Lord has gone we are all in danger."
Narcissa bit her lip, thinking of all the terrible repercussions, already imagining herself and her beloved husband in Azkaban until they were driven mad and her son taken from her and raised by others - maybe even bloodtraitors like the Weasley's!
But even underneath that she felt a faint glimmer of relief.
The next few years were difficult. There were trials and bribes and disdainful looks from others, those who had known exactly what her family had done and her relationship to Bellatrix Lestrange, the most feared and hated witch in a hundred years. But in spite of that there we're supportive looks from her fellow traditional families - the true ones - and her husband spent more time at home and the nanny was fired. She had her family back.
If a few glares from people she'd never liked were the price to pay for that then she didn't care.
All she'd ever wanted was her family.
Her son started getting older. He looked more and more like his father with each passing day and sounded more and more like a pureblood as well. She couldn't help but think that one day that mouth of his might get him into trouble with one of Dumbledore's men.
Before her very eyes he was growing up, going to Hogwarts. There had been pages and pages of news about the Potter boy re-entering the magical world and Narcissa hated it, a reminder of the life she'd once lived and her family being torn apart by a war she had no interest in. But still her hatred was overshadowed but the excitement that her son was finally leaving for Hogwarts and the slight loneliness that gave her, her son away at school and her husband away mingling with the other high society wizards and their wives. She didn't really have a particular interest in hovering on her husband's arm like a dumb blonde bauble for the whole night.
Her year passed slowly, in her loneliness and with near daily letters to her son, punctuated with packages of sweets and other treats. When she'd heard that the Potter boy had been allowed into the Quidditch team she'd been furious that her own son hadn't been offered the swim opportunity.
Talk about Dumbledore and unfairness.
At the end of the year there had been some hushed rumours of the Dark Lord and the Potter boy but she hadn't really listened to them, too glad to have her beloved son home.
The summer passed quickly, far too quickly for her liking. Her son had barely seemed to be there at all, at his 'friends' houses or with his father in the basement receiving training and new, more advanced spells. Draco went back to school in the September, fully expecting to get on the Quidditch team now that he was allowed to. Narcissa had been expecting that, even if she hadn't been expecting to foot the bill for the entire team's brooms.
Over the course of the year there were whispers about the Chamber of Secrets, which had been closed even when her father was at Hogwarts, and stories of attacks on students. When Draco had refused to come home for Christmas she had barely restrained herself from sending a Howler to change his mind. She wanted him away from that ridiculous death trap of a school - and soon.
Her husband was always away or hidden in his office, holding secret meeting with old friends - Death Eaters Narcissa knew. She hated it, the danger it put their family in - watching people who were well known criminals wander in and out of the house in broad daylight.
Eventually Lucius went to Hogwarts to sack Dumbledore, something she rejoiced at, even if she hated the target it had painted on her family from his people. The old fool was back soon enough in any event, through some interference from the Potter boy. The entirety of the incident had never been truly revealed to her but it had cultivated in her husband losing his place on the Board of Governors and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know.
Her son had come home only days later and they'd spent the next few together, Draco at home and Lucius not at the Ministry, no matter how much Fudge needed him to breathe. She hadn't felt this happy in years, not since she had first married Lucius or since Draco had been born.
She knew the moment would never last but she hoped it would anyway.
It didn't. Halfway through her sons holidays her husband came home with the news that her once bloodtraitor cousin had apparently escaped Azkaban.
She wasn't quite sure what to think. Her and Sirius had never gotten on all that well, especially after he was sorted into Gryffindor. She'd always thought it was funny how he'd turned on his friends - it had seemed uncharacteristic of him.
Either way, he was now a mass murderer, whether he'd betrayed the Potters or not, and she worried for her son's safety at Hogwarts.
At the Platform that year she gave him a tight smile and hugged him tightly, ignoring his attempts to squirm away for once. She almost kissed him on the cheek but decided against the embarrassment, instead nodding at him once more before disapparating, her husband having been unable to see their son off in the recent fiasco that was her cousin escaping.
She worried for the rest of the year and made him come home for Christmas.
The next year, something even darker was stirring. It reminded her of the times before the war, back when the Dark Lord had been rising. The Triwizard Tournament was being held again, for the first time in centuries. It was far more than suspicious.
So she wasn't really surprised at the spectacle the Quidditch World Cup had turned in to. She half expected her husband to be one of the men outside - and he probably was, but what worried her the most at the minute was the fact that she couldn't find her son.
Where was he?
Her heart pounded furiously and she was twitchy and short-tempered for the whole half an hour he had been missing.
When she'd found him again she'd hugged him tight and refused to let him go - and she probably wouldn't ever let go again.
She'd had to have sometime - particularly since he was a male pureblood. He was supposed to be setting an example, not being smothered by his mother.
She spent most of her son's fourth year in a state of panic, listening to her son complain that Potter was competing in the Tournament, so why couldn't he? and watching her husband's dark mark get clearer and clearer.
And on the night of the third task, so close to the end of the year, her husband had clutched at his arm and then disapparated. Narcissa already knew what had happened.
This had happened before.
But it would not happen again, not like that. Her family would be protected.