Thick black smoke hung in the air, the sound of fighting carrying on the light summers breeze. Narcissa couldn't help but find the juxtaposition of the temperate summer's day, with little or no cloud cover depending on where your gaze was, against the backdrop of a charred and smoking battlefield ironic and just a little twisted. In her mind this day should've been filled with storms instead it was the kind of day she would have enjoyed in the gardens or at the beach with a glass of iced tea in her hand.
She was, however, doing nothing of the sort, for at the moment her breathing was coming in ragged gasps and her heart beating a stucco in her chest as she ran, her skirts whispering around her legs and her medium heeled boots causing a ruccus as they hit the stone of the path they were on. She was not alone, in one hand her son's hand was clutched and at her other side ran the blonde coward she had been forced to marry. One Lucius Malfoy. Better known as Lucy to her, it was the name her sister had given to him and it had stuck as it seemed so apt. It wasn't just a play on words it was a dig at him, for his hair, his manicured appearance and his cowardly heart. Whatever her father had seen in him it was obviously misplaced as he was not worthy of a Black. Her teenage son in contrast though, was obviously scared yet he was acting more of a man than her husband was. The trio daren't apparate to another country as the ministry would find them for sure. All they could do was run as if they were muggles. The very thought turned Narcissa's stomach.
As Narcissa ran thoughts of her sister Bellatrix were circirling around her mind as guilt and grief ate at her heart, turning what little warmth there was left inside of her into a black dried up husk. Now she was just a shell of the person she used to be for her sister had fallen in the battle. Narcissa had loved her sister since she had been a newborn baby but now, her sister was gone. Never to return. When Bella had been sent to Azkaban she had never given up hope for her release but this time her sister would not return, not from death. Tears wanted to fall but she would not give Lucius that satisfaction of seeing her cry, he had made her an ice princess and he had hated her sister with a vengence so never would she allow him, or anyone else for that matter, to see her grief.
Onwards the trio ran. They were running for life, running for a future. Behind them the battle had been waged, a battle to end all battles, a battle that was a defining moment in wizarding history as it had seen the dark lord finally fall. The Potter brat had won, him and that cowardly Weaseley and that filthy mudblood had seen the end of the deatheaters. It was Molly Weaseley who had murdered her sister, a feat she would never forgive and a feat she wanted revenge for. At the moment though she was trying to contend with her grief that threatened to engulf and overwhelm her.
Awhile after they had left the vicinity of the school they found themselves on the border between their wizarding world and the muggle world. Though it was anathema to the three Malfoys they willingly stepped into the muggle world and headed for the train station. It was too France and the secluded chateaux they were headed. London now was not safe for them though Narcissa longed to return to their manor in Wiltshire to collect a picture of her sister. That though she could never do, not if she wanted to avoid Azkaban.
The journey to France by the muggle's Eurostar went quicker then they could have hoped for. During it the family had not spoken; Lucius had speant the time brooding over his now fading dark mark, Draco had speant the time talking to a muggle girl though he knew he would never be allowed to date her and Narcissa had speant the entire journey staring blankly out of the window. It was not the scenery she saw but images of her sister; images of when her sister had been vital and happy, memories of her sister's dark laugh and of her cackle, memories they had made together as sister's and as lovers. Memories she had no doubt that would haunt her now for the rest of her life. Disembarking the train in Calais the trio made their way on foot into Arras then from there they apparated to Verdun where their chateaux was hidden. Only themselves, Rodolphus and Bellatrix knew it existed.