A/N:
This is my first time writing about Narcissa, but I took a chance with it. I think it turned out pretty well. Set for the year after the Battle of Hogwarts. Character death...and kinda hints some Dramine ;] Written for the Miserable Melody contest by Hermione's Harmony. The song I chose is Dumbledore's Farewell by Nicholas Hooper, I thought it was a nice parallel; the bad guy getting Dumbledore's lament. Anyway, enjoy. :]
Narcissa's eyes opened wide. For a moment, she didn't realize where she was or who she was…yet alone what awoke her. Staring up at the high-rise ceilings in her luxurious bedroom, the fog finally cleared from her thoughts. It was then she noticed a small figure by her bedside, compelling her to turn.
"What do you want Finny …foolish little elf!" She yelled at the house elf next to her.
"Mistress, mistress, come quick!" The house elf tugged at her sleeve, tears flowing from his eyes. "The headmistress of Hogwarts is in the sitting room and she must speak to my Mistress immediately about the young Mister Malfoy! Hurry Mistress! The lady says it's urgent!" Narcissa shot out of bed and turned to the house elf in disbelief.
"Draco." She whispered. She apparated downstairs and saw Professor McGonagall sitting stiff in one of the chairs. The professor rose to her feet. Narcissa ran to her. "Is Draco alright?" She asked, frantic. Professor McGonagall looked down. Tears swept through Mrs. Malfoy's eyes as her voice swelled. "Minerva, tell me that he's okay!"
"I'm so sorry, Narcissa." Narcissa fell to her knees sobbing miserably. McGonagall kneeled on the ground next to her and attempted to console the distraught mother. "He's been having dreams lately, terrible dreams…" McGonagall started. "In these dreams, Lucius is telling him to save himself from a curse of some kind. Draco was so terrified of these dreams; he actually came to talk to me about them. He was scared Narcissa. I strengthened the wards in his dormitory to try and reassure him that he was well protected, but that was no use. None of us saw it coming."
"What happened to my boy?" Narcissa wept at her.
"The dark mark that Voldemort left on his forearm, it was cursed. When Voldemort gave your son that mark, it was under the understanding that in two years and three months' time, if The Dark Lord was not alive, it would kill Draco." Narcissa looked up at her. "Do you think Lucius knew about this before he passed, Narcissa?"
Narcissa was shaking violently, clutching her head in her hands. She was still adorning her sleep robes and slippers. Her hair was a mess of blonde and black cascading gently towards the tear-stained floor. All around her, the house elves gathered in a silent grief. Some were clutching each other as if their lives depended on it. All were crying at the brutal pain of losing their master.
"Lucius knew. He knew the whole time." She let out a stifled sob. "My son…my only son…" The cry that came from Narcissa was filled with a grief that shook the room. Every inch of Malfoy Manor shared her lament in a loud, resounding echo. Narcissa, still shaking, called to her son's favorite house elf.
"Y-yes Mistress?" he cried with her. Narcissa wiped her face.
"Please bring me my son's best robes, Finny." The house elf nodded and reappeared moments later with Draco's best suit. "Now if you'll excuse me a moment, McGonagall, I need to find some suitable clothing." Narcissa walked in a daze through the endless amounts of house elves that cried silently to themselves. She reached her bedroom, grabbed an article of clothing from her wardrobe, threw it on, and exited the room. She walked back down the stairs, shock filling every pore of her body. In this moment, Narcissa didn't know where she was going...just that she was walking and wherever she ended up was just that. Although she was merely going through the motions of living, Narcissa quickly found her way back to the sitting room.
McGonagall quickly swept to her side and held her hand. Narcissa silently requested that Finny follow her with a nudge of her arm. Finny bowed low as the women apparated out of Malfoy Manor and into Hogwarts.
"Where is he, Minerva?" Narcissa asked, accepting a tissue from Finny. McGonagall pointed down a hallway where several professors and students had gathered. Narcissa braced herself as best she could as she walked through the arched hallway. Lying still on the ground, her only son came into focus. His eyes were closed as if in a passive sleep. A girl with long, brown hair was by his side sobbing. Narcissa knelt on the floor next to her.
"Draco…" Narcissa whispered, as if trying to wake him. She turned his arm to reveal a large curse where his dark mark used to be. She noticed the house elf on the side of her, sniveling quietly to itself. The house elf was losing his composure; each sob racked its tiny body into convulsions.
"He….he asked me for help," said a mousy voice from the girl next to her. "He had nightmares…and I figured out why he had them but it was too late. The curse got to him. I gave him this so it wouldn't scar…it'll just be on that wrist there." She handed Narcissa a small vial. Narcissa turned and studied the girl. It wasn't one that Draco had ever talked about, or written of. This was Harry Potter's friend.
"You're the mud-" Narcissa stopped herself. "You're the muggle born that is friends with Harry Potter, aren't you?" The girl nodded pathetically. Narcissa started to reach for her hand but hesitated. "Thank you…for trying to help Draco." For the first time in her life, Narcissa was so beside herself with grief she didn't care about blood status. She took the girl's hand and cried with her.
Finny, who had been previously silent, turned to Narcissa. "Mistress, shall I redress the young Mr. Malfoy in his best suit, ma'am?" Narcissa looked at him and nodded. With a snap of his fingers, the house elf clothed Draco in his best suit and held his night clothes in his arms. "And-" the elf choked. "And what does Mistress want Finny to do with the Young Master's clothes?" Narcissa lifted her head and looked around at the students. Some of Draco's friends were friends of family, children of Lucius' death eater friends. They were whispering, none were crying. There was one Slytherin that was trying not to cry, looking around at her friends, who, Narcissa assumed, knew about the curse. Behind her stood half of Gryffindor house adorning faces of concern and grief. Some were crying; most of them fought in the Battle of Hogwarts. Narcissa looked over at the house elf.
"You…you may keep them, Finny." Once the house elf heard her words, his sobs grew more frantic. He placed the clothes on the floor at her feet and bowed low.
"Finny cannot reject these gifts that Mistress has given me, but if Finny may, can Finny still be a free service elf for the kind Mrs. Malfoy." Narcissa looked up at the elf, eyes red.
"I don't care." She spat back. Her usual caustic manner was returning. She looked down at the body of her son again, and the sting came back. Her son, her smart, talented, handsome little man was dead and none of his so called "friends" cared.
This was the day that Narcissa realized that her entire life, spent devoted to a Dark Lord with an evil agenda, was wasted. Her son died in vain. Her only son died because of her prejudice and her late husband's foul choices. She wept next to her pride and joy, the guilt mixing with grief. She felt hands on her, pulling her away. She rebelled with everything in her, reaching, screaming; everything blurred together as she fought tooth and nail to stay with her son. Her only son. Her dead son. She heard both students and staff sobbing, professor's muttering and then, everything went dark.