I own nothing, just a friendly little oneshot!.

Rain pelted a dark form standing outside of Malfoy Manor

Rain pelted a dark form standing outside of Malfoy Manor. One could say it was either very late or very early, but either way it was very dark.

The expansive home had never looked particularly inviting, but never had it looked so empty. Both Lucius and Draco had died mysteriously in the past year. They had received an official pardon after the war, but the ministry was certainly capable of unofficial business. Many other former deatheaters had met similar accidental deaths. On the surface the past had been forgiven, but in the case of Lucius and Draco, their past had condemned them.

The figure moved to the front entrance and knocked. Narcissa, the lone Malfoy, answered.

She was quite surprised to see a rain-soaked Harry Potter standing at her door.

"Mrs. Malfoy, may I come in?" he politely asked.

Narcissa nodded and a look of complete puzzlement crossed her face as Harry walked in.

"What can I do for you, Mr. Potter?"

"Please call me Harry," he replied, the two of them settling in the parlor.

"Harry, then. I can't imagine what would bring you here."

Harry's eyes swept her body—still the picture of perfection.

"I never got to thank you. For saving my life that is."

Narcissa grew red and tears came to her eyes.

"I've done nothing worth your thanks. I'm afraid my intentions were purely selfish…and yet I still lost what I had wanted to save."

"Your family," Harry answered for her.

She nodded, wiping tears from her clear blue eyes.

"They made their deaths look like suicides, the bastards," she cried growing angry, "how cowardly. The ministry publicly pardons them then secretly sentences them to death."

Harry moved to the arm of her chair to comfort her.

"I can't imagine how hard it has been for you….which is why I thought this would the best time to thank you," Harry said with an unmistakable meaning behind his words.

"Harry, what are you talking about?"

"You're a very beautiful woman, Mrs. Malfoy," Harry whispered before capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

Narcissa immerged from the heady kiss, breathless.

"Please, call me Narcissa."

"Narcissa," he breathed, pulling her once again into the depths of his hungry kiss.

Narcissa couldn't help but notice there was something mighty peculiar going on with his pants. They were quite tented.

Her mind screamed that she shouldn't be doing this, but her body longed to feel something. Anything other than the pain she'd been feeling at the loss of her family. Maybe salvation, if only momentary, could be found in the arms of this eager young man.

Their passion quickly escalated. Harry left trails of electricity all over her body in the midst of their love making. For this one sweet moment he didn't have to think of the dirty work the ministry made him do. He didn't have to think about how he shelved his once adventurous life only to replace it with a quiet married one. Ginny definitely wasn't the wildcat writhing beneath him tonight. He felt as if he'd floated into the air, blood coursing through his veins.

As blissful as this moment was, Harry knew it would have to end soon. He was just glad he could give Narcissa one night of exhilaration before it would end forever.

"Narcissa, I'm sorry you had to lose your family that way," he managed to get out in the wake of his intense climax.

She could only mutter incoherently as Harry continued.

"I only take solace in the fact that you'll be with them again soon."

Harry grabbed his wand out of the pocket of his nearby pants and gently poked the tip into her sternum. He kissed his way up her neck stopping at her ear.

"Avada Kedavra," he whispered on his hot breath.

The room flashed with a green light, and Harry stood up looking down at the nude and now dead form of Narcissa Malfoy. Like her husband and son before her, she too had an order placed over her head.

It wouldn't be long before Ministry officials would come to the scene to set it up like a suicide. Harry couldn't stand doing that part. The actual killing was the only honest part. He took care enough to dress her, those sleazes at the Ministry didn't deserve to see the beauty that had been Narcissa Malfoy. He felt it odd to have such a strong loyalty to her, and yet carry out her murder.

Harry had been reluctant to do it, but he knew that if he wouldn't, somebody else would…and after all, he really did want to thank her.

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