a/n: in honor of it being 2nd May - the war is over - here's a little something from the Wizarding World.
Nothing Else Mattered.
The war was over.
Voldemort was dead.
Praise, Merlin.
What an odd thought it was when coming from none other than the wife of the well-known aristocrat Lucius Malfoy . . . Narcissa.
The witch was huddled together with her family in the Great Hall surrounded by what was left of the once great school . . . which she knew. . . as everyone else did. . . would rise again.
It would take much more than a battle against the darkest force the Wizarding World had ever seen to take down such a mighty and strong haven as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Her boy was clung tightly in her arms whilst her husband stood beside her holding onto Draco and his wife just as tight as she was them.
If she had been paying any attention to her surroundings she would've noticed the passerby's giving the Malfoy family odd glances as they hurried by - possibly out of fear of what the Malfoys might do and because they were too busy looking for their own loved ones.
No one had ever seen the Malfoys this way - of course not! Out in public they were stoic. . . cold. No one really knew who they were behind closed doors of their very large Manor. They never would either.
The Malfoys didn't allow people into their world. . . they were private. . . and with their upbringing . . . they were led to believe this was the right thing to do. A witch and wizard were meant to stay with their own kind. They did not associate with anyone outside of their circle.
For the world they lived in now. . . now that the Dark Lord was dead. . . and order would most definitely be restored to the Ministry. . . Narcissa knew much would change. . . but she no longer cared.
She had never been a Death Eater. . . She had never received the Mark.
She only followed along because it was what she had been taught to do since she was a little girl.
She had never been like her sister, Bellatrix. . . no. She was more of the ladylike sort.
She didn't want to fight. She had her beliefs. She lived her life. . . and what others did was their own business.
She didn't much care for war or politics. . . no. She followed along with what Lucius did because she was loyal to him. He was her husband. . . and that was that.
. . .but none of it mattered. None of it - not what they had done or what was ahead.
No.
All that mattered right now in this moment as the world around her no longer existed and the smell of her son - that smell she'd smelt since the day he was born - filled her senses and gave her comfort as she held him close against her chest. . . was that they were safe. Her family was alive. . . and they were together.
Nothing else mattered.
