AN: Hey, this is a scene from the chapter The Forest Again and a bit of The Flaw in the Plan, but from Narcissa's point of view. Hope you guys like it! :)
Disclaimer: I don't own the HP characters or the world J.K so marvelously created.
The Strength of a Mother's Love
-o0o-
A mother's love is everlasting and Narcissa is no different. Will she find what she is looking for – is the wait finally over, or is there yet more to come?
Silence, a terrible and beautiful thing. Makes no difference where you belong, bad things always follow. A world isn't without consequences. Everything you do influences what happens to you, later in life. Narcissa chose one of those things – the outcome, not exactly what she hoped for.
Quiet whispers and brisk rambled mutterings pierced the eerie night, which stared back at her, unperturbed…waiting…listening, ready to cast one last fatal decision. Narcissa stood erect beside a nearby tree, drawn like a fierce lion, willing to impose harm on those who resolved to sabotage her freedom. She jutted her chin and stared straight ahead, cloak unfurling wildly into the howling wind. Shadows loomed, directed by the moon's artificial light, allowing her to see the branches scratching and clawing at the ground, searching for balance.
Narcissa shifted the cloak close to her to conceal her shivering flesh, the icy-cold wind blustering defiantly, unleashing its feral fury upon the trembling trees, surrounding the Forbidden Forest. Caught in the middle of these winds, Narcissa stayed stuck with no straight direction. Hiding and cowering behind a false pretence of power, wealth and perfection, manufactured by the fear of exposing her weaknesses for the benefit and amusement of others.
The blazing fire in the centre of the clearing enraptured her attention, entranced by the licking flames. Draco's absence weighed down her heart. Where are you, Draco? No longer the boisterous, high-spirited boy on his first day of Hogwarts – Narcissa carefully restrained her urge to drag him back beside her and keep him there always. Still, he was his father's son. Reckless. Impulsive. Prone to making dangerous decisions.
Jared out of her thoughts, Narcissa's eyes reverted to the warm hand clasping her fingers. She squeezed his hand, permitting her to breathe a little easier at the thin smile gracing his lips. Grey eyes that Narcissa had gazed into a thousand times before glittered in the vain hope that they'd be able to see their son again.
Narcissa flinched as the leaves brushed her skin and fluttered to the ground at her feet. Her gaze narrowed, she caught hold of the mutt's dirty fingernails scraping the tree trunk, injecting a squeak into the silence within the circle. He then bounded off the rock. Filthy half-breeds. Her shoulders tensed as her muscles tightened, strung upright as thin as a quill – uncomfortable in close proximity. She'll never understand why the Dark Lord deliberately chose to join forces with such savage beasts. Glad, her interaction with them remained limited.
The harsh breeze lifted the strands of her hair and forced her to breathe in the sickly stench of blood and sweat, clinging to the back of her throat. The trees rustled, Narcissa slumped into Lucius once Greyback clambered to the front. Dolohov and Yaxley emerged out from beyond the shadows and wordlessly re-joined the circle.
Voldemort looked up.
Narcissa held her breath.
"No sign of him, my Lord," said Dolohov.
The air trapped in her lungs, stifling. No sound, no longer reached her, only her roaring heartbeat pulsed in her ears, numbing her body. Narcissa looked at the ground; Draco's body lay immobile, eyes blank and white-faced with the ghost of his last scream frozen on his lips.
NO!
Draco had to be alive. The boy had to come. Mouth dry, Narcissa raised her head and squared her shoulders, afraid to show affection where visible.
The Dark Lord's expression did not change. His red eyes burned bright as he gazed into the flames before he switched his attention to his wand. Lucius rubbed her arm up and down, their gazes locked. If the boy didn't make it, she might never see her son again.
"My Lord-" Bellatrix spoke, sitting closest to the Dark Lord, hair dishevelled looking, dirty and bloody but unharmed.
The Dark Lord held up a hand to silence her and Bella kept quiet dutifully. No one spoke. As she inhaled, the silence thickened in the circle. Narcissa breathed quickly. Why hadn't he come yet? What was he up to? Her stomach rolled. She wiped her clammy hands on her cloak, waiting. Where was he?
"I was, it seems…mistaken," said the Dark Lord.
"You weren't!"
Narcissa's breathing slowed. He's here, the boy's here. Thank Salazar. At his presence, the giants growled following the cries and gasps of Death Eaters. They rose as one laughing and booing rowdily. A sigh left Lucius's lips. Narcissa watched the boy walk into the light, hands empty – foolish Gryffindor pride. Dirt and soot covered his face, scratches and abrasions marred his skin. Limply, the boy proceeded toward Voldemort.
Then a voice yelled –
"HARRY! NO!"
The half-giant shook the bonds holding him captive. Desperate, he struggled, his massive body weighing down the branches.
"NO! NO! HARRY, WHAT'RE YEH–?"
"QUIET!" shouted Rowle, and with a flick of his wand the noise stopped.
Bellatrix leaped to her feet, peering fervently from one to the other. Nobody moved. The silence deepened. The Dark Lord and Harry looked at each other; the Dark Lord tilted his head, curiosity fleeted across his eyes as he considered the boy. Then, a cruel smile curved his lipless mouth.
"Harry Potter," he said, very softly, "The boy who lived."
Nobody moved. Time rooted to a standstill. Finally, the Dark Lord raised his wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Narcissa shielded her eyes as a blinding flash of green light knocked him through the air, at the same time Voldemort sailed backwards. Everyone rushed forward, crowding their Master and murmured among themselves. Narcissa stayed in her usual spot not altogether bothered.
"My Lord…my Lord…"
Bellatrix spoke, her voice laced with so much affection that Narcissa doubted she reserved any of these feelings for her husband.
"My Lord…"
"That will do," said the Dark Lord's voice.
Together, the people gathered around the Dark Lord backed away after much fuss. Slowly he rose to his feet. Bellatrix held out a loving hand.
"My Lord, let me–"
"I do not require your assistance," said the Dark Lord coldly. Bella withdrew her rejected hand. "The boy…is he dead?" Narcissa turned to the boy. Sprawled at an unnatural angle, round glasses crooked.
"You," said the Dark Lord, pointing the wand at her. Bang! The spell hit her arm. Narcissa clenched her jaw but a small shriek of pain slipped out. "Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."
Narcissa swept across the ground with her usual elegant grace, though constrained more than normal. What does this mean? For them, for her, for her family. Hesitantly she lowered herself to her knees and leaned over the boy. Her blonde locks falling across his face. Tentatively, she placed a less than steady hand against his chest. The booming sound of his heartbeat pulsed through her fingers, his hot breath perspiring against her cheek.
The questions lingering in her mind found their way to her lips effortlessly, "Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"
"Yes."
She dug her nails into him. This was it. The opportunity she had been waiting for. Can she do this alone? Can she enable herself to break all ties with the Dark Lord, and envision a life without darkness and chaos? Was there such a thing?
Narcissa untangled herself from the boy. Calmly, she straightened out of her crouch. Facing the Dark Lord, her gaze unwavering, her decision made.
"He is dead!"
The applaud burst through the sky showering it with bright sparks. Nobody saw the lone tear that leaked from the corner of her eye.