Narcissa Malfoy had always wanted the best for her son.

She had the duty to raise him, the last heir of Malfoy and Black family, probably the oldest and noblest families in the wizarding world. It was a big responsability.

He had eaten in golden plates since he was two. He had played in their immense garden with peacocks and parrots.

They sent him to Hogwarts, probably the best wizarding school in the whole world. Actually, Narcissa would have rather him go to Durmstrang. In Durmstrang there were only pure-bloods, unlike Hogwarts, where her son could eat or study side by side Muggle borns (Merlin forbid!). But Germany was way too far.

The summer before he went to Hogwarts she had a talk with him.

'Do you understand, Draco, that we are special? That you are special? You're going to do great things, son. But in Hogwarts you will find... how can I say?... undesirables'

'Like who, mother?' he asked.

'Well... there are Muggleborns.'

'Muggleborns? In Hogwarts? In the school I'm going to attend?' he asked, his eyes widened.

'Yes, filthy Mudbloods. Don't ever talk to them. Stay far. And then... there are traitors of their own blood. Like the Weasleys.'

'Weasleys?'

'Yes. Did you father tell you about them? They can be easily spotted: a large amount of read heads with more children than they can afford' she said laughing.

Draco didn't say anything, just thinking about what his mother had just said.

'Anyway, don't ever talk to them. Did you understand, Draco?'

'Yes, mother.'

Her son went to Hogwarts and was sorted into Slytherin, as all his family was sure he would.

Years passed and nothing changed.

She would frown every time Draco told her about Harry Potter or his Mudblood friend.

'Do you talk to these people, Draco? What did I tell you?'

'I don't talk to them, mother, I hate them'

'You don't have to have feelings towards them. You have to ignore them. They don't exist. You are superior. Spend your time with your friends, Crabble and Goyle.'

'It's just...'

'What?'

'Crabble and Goyle... sometimes are a little bit thick'

'They are purebloods. That's what matters' she answered, with her chin up.

'But...'

'I don't want to hear anything more on this subject, Draco' she said, leaving the room.


It was not that she didn't love her son. She loved him.

But she never told him. Or indulged a little bit in thinking about her feelings towards him. He just had to grow up and to bring honour to his family.

Narcissa's mother used to say: 'Blacks know only two feelings: pride and honour.' And Narcissa had accustomed herself to feeling only in those two ways. She never thought that she could have other feelings. Like love or fear. Blacks weren't supposed to do that. And neither were Malfoys.

But when Draco was chosen to be a Death Eater, something changed.

She was supposed to be honoured. Her son, aged sixteen, was the youngest Death Eater ever. And he had been personally chosen by the Dark Lord.

But she wasn't honoured. She wasn't proud.

She looked at Draco and didn't think that he was finally bringing fresh recognisment to her family, after all the months Lucius had spent in Azkaban, hated both by the Order members and by his fellow Death Eaters.

She would just look at the pale blonde boy and think.

He's so young. Why does he have to go through all this?

She found herself doing things that she had never thought she could have been capable of doing. Like begging (begging! A Black!) Severus Snape to help her. Or bowing in front of the Dark Lord, asking him to take her instead of her own son.

She couldn't understand what was happening to her.

Once Bellatrix found her looking at a picture of a young Draco with tears in her eyes.

'What is what I see, sister? Is that... love?'

Narcissa wiped her tears away and said sarcastically:

'Who do you think I am, Bellatrix? Dumbledore?'

The two sisters laughed together, but a bitter feeling remained in Narcissa.

Was that love? Is this love? she wondered.

That bitter feeling never left her ever since.

When Draco told his family what had happened on the Astronomy Tower, Bellatrix said:

'You missed an opportunity, didn't you, Draco?'

But Narcissa was relieved. Because she couldn't imagine that that young shaking boy could kill another man.

The following year everything had been gloomy and hazy. She followed the ascending of the Dark Lord, but without enthusiasm, unlike she had done the first time. She was scared. For Draco. And she began wondering if she was on the right side or not.

She finally realised what had been hidden inside herself in the Forbidden Forest during the Battle of Hogwarts.

When Voldemort asked her to check if Harry was alive, she looked at the boy straight in his face.

He is so young. Same age of Draco. But he doesn't have a mother. He had once. But she was killed. By my side. My side.

Years and years after, Narcissa would have always said that that had been the moment when she had finally realised that she had wasted her whole life. Because she realised at last that Dumbledore was right. The old weird man was right. It was love, what ruled the world. And she understood that she had to break all the fear and hatred that Voldemort had widespread in the world.

Is Draco alive? she asked, finally realising that her son was more important than anything else. Not because he was a Malfoy. Not because he was a Black. But because she was his mother and she loved him.

Yes, was the low answer from the boy.

She got up and said: 'He is dead'.

And for the first time in her life she saw everything clear.

That young boy was on the right side. She was on the wrong one. The one that killed mothers.

She couldn't think: 'I'm on his side'. For too many years had she supported Voldemort, too many years had she hated Dumbledore and the Order. But she understood that that little boy laying on the ground could be the answer to all her questions during the last two years.

So, when Harry Potter defeated Voldemort and the light entered in the Great Hall she was happy. A new feeling, after love. Not happy because she was proud. Not happy because she was honoured. Happy because she saw that light on her son's face. And she realised that she was still in time to change everything.

In the following months, in the following years, she tried to create a bond between herself and her son. Lucius couldn't understand her. But Draco did.

She saw him becoming a better person. To regret the mistakes he had done.

She saw him falling in love with a woman and having a child. She saw him bursting with happiness.

Narcissa Malfoy had always wanted the best for her son.

The thing is that during years her conception of 'best' changed.

Before 'best' meant fear and respect.

Now it was different: it meant love. The old weird man (Dumbledore! she corrected herself) had been right.


A/N: Aaaah... Difficult to write and not very satisfied yet. What do you think? Tell me, please. Next one should be Lily.