I already have the first 3 chapters for this story, just need to type them. I know this one is short, but they will get longer, please tell me what you think and the rest will be posted soon.
Narcissa Malfoy sat in her library, still as stone, silent tears running down her cheeks. To the outside world she had to remain cold and unchanging about the recent events, but here, in her sanctuary, she could let her guards down.
It was mid July, but the colossal mansion was as cold as though it were March. She moved to the window slowly, savoring the feeling of her protesting joints. She unhooked the elegant latch, letting the large glass doors swing open.
Narcissa stood in the door frame, eyes closed, feeling the humid summer breeze on her skin; willing herself to repress the memories the stone patio before her contained.
A scream erupted from upstairs, followed by the painful sound of breaking glass. The moment the deafening silence was broken Narcissa immediately wiped her eyes and ran to the source, wand ready. She climbed the spiral stair case, two steps at a time. As she got farther up she realized with panic that the sound had come from Draco's room.
Images of Draco lying on the floor lifeless floated through her mind as she gripped the cold brass handle tightly.
"Draco?" She called out, but there was no respond.
"Draco?" She called again, this time louder than before, but still there was no reply.
Unable to contain herself she turned the handle and burst through the door.
"DRACO! WHY ARN'T YOU-" her voice broke off as she saw the scene that lay before her.
To her right the large full length mirror was cracked at the center, a murky fluid dripped off I slowly. The ground was covered in glinting shards and spots of red, staining the cream colored carpet. In front of her stood her son, facing away from her, towards the onyx night sky.
Narcissa reached for his shoulder, but stopped just short of making contact.
Draco in sensing her apprehension turned to face his mother.
Narcissa's breathe caught in her throat at the sight of her son. His left hand looked disfigured, covered in pieces of glass that sprouted from his skin, with a crimson liquid covering it. His sharp, hard features that looked so much of those of his father had splatters of bits of scarlet.
It was his eyes that made her the most shocked though. Instead of the cool eyes she had grown accustomed to, they showed nothing… just emptiness.