For the Ultimate Battle! Competition, with the prompt Druella/Abraxas; for the School of Prompts Challenge, with the prompt animal; for the Race to Space Prompts Challenge, with the prompt birthmark.
"Mother," came a voice from the doorway, and Druella looked up at her visitor – Narcissa. "Mother, may I speak with you?"
"You may come to me for anything, darling."
"Thank you, Mother," said Narcissa. Druella had for many years admired the politeness exuded by her youngest daughter, something she had never herself possessed. As a young Rosier child, she had been bold, forward, so much so that Gryffindor may perhaps have been a house more suited to her tastes had she not been so terribly desperate to do something with herself, a trait she shared with Slytherin House. Courtesy burst forth from Narcissa, so unlike her mother, every time she spoke.
"What is it you'd like to speak about, Cissy?" Druella asked, doing her best to sound motherly. She had never thought of herself as the matronly type, but with three daughters, she knew she must try her hardest.
"Mother, I know you and Father have been considering my marriage prospects," Narcissa began with a quake in her voice that even Druella could discern. Narcissa's statement was true; the eldest Black daughter had wed the Lestrange boy not a month after completing her seventh year at Hogwarts, and Narcissa had only a week left before she would leave once again for her final year at the school. Thus, Druella and Cygnus had, in fact, discussed the facts of Narcissa's surely upcoming marriage.
"Yes, Narcissa. I do hope you're not having any thoughts about running away with a Muggleborn?"
"Oh, no, Mother," exclaimed Narcissa, stricken. "I wouldn't – I wouldn't want to leave you and Father and Bella. And I would never run away with a Mudblood," she finished.
"Then what is it you would like to ask?"
"Well, I was just hoping – er, I suppose – I was hoping that you might consider Lucius Malfoy as a prospective husband for me. He's certain his father would agree to a union between the two of us, and I think it would be a very beneficial marriage for our families, and – "
The young woman had lost Druella at the mention of the name. Lucius Malfoy. Her own daughter with the son of that Carrow brat?!
Malfoy. More than anything else, the name brought to mind everything she'd ever wished she could have. Could she truly consider his son as a match for her daughter when a mere mention of his name brought to mind chrysanthemums on her birthday and candlelit rendezvous in the Slytherin Common Room and his body flush against hers – no. She would not allow it, not when her own mother had denied her the joy of loving Abraxas.
"We'll consider him," Druella managed to croak, and Narcissa seemed not to notice the break in her voice.
Try as she might, Druella could not shake Abraxas's image from her mind as she lay in her bed late into the night, listening to the animal snores of her husband. She had not allowed herself to think about him, about how they could have lived should they have married – not for years. But tonight, when Narcissa had suggested a union between her and Abraxas's son with the Carrow wench… It felt horribly, horribly wrong to even consider such a match when Druella and Abraxas had once loved each other more than life itself.
She still remembered him. She could recall the exact placement of the birthmark on his forehead, the specific way his blonde hair curled around his ears, the sunburns that he always received after trying a defective sunblock potion he'd invented. His square glasses and his tall, lean figure and his secret love for kneazles all brought themselves easily to the front of her mind, presenting themselves to her in waves of nausea brought on by the simple fact that Narcissa would be able to do what Druella never could.
"Abraxas," she whispered as she tried to push thoughts of him away. The animal next to her turned over, taking the bedclothes with him, and Druella was left cold and exhausted and loving Abraxas Malfoy.
When she finally slept, she dreamt of a Malfoy boy and his paramour and the chrysanthemums he would give her every birthday.