Author's Note: This is a much shorter chapter than usual, because I just had to get this out. My gift to you, my dears. Also, the quote at the beginning was too perfect not to use.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any other material used throughout this story.
Muddy
Chapter 7: The Endless Ocean
"Love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark… To have been loved so deeply… will give us some protection forever." - JK Rowling
7th year, continued…
"NO!"
The exclamation from Draco sent a wave of terror through Hermione. He'd screamed it just as the crack that signaled their departure from the manor sounded.
Hermione knew something had gone terribly wrong. They had made it to Shell Cottage, she knew. She could smell the sea, could see an expanse of bright blue sky above her. But Draco was trembling, and Hermione felt his grip on her back loosen, her legs beginning to fall from his grasp.
"Let me go, Draco," she rasped, pushing at his chest, whishing he would turn his head round to look at her, wishing he wasn't blocking her view.
His arms slackened, and Hermione slipped away from him, feeling the world spin as she planted her feet in the sand, reaching out and steadying herself on Harry's shoulder. Her body ached from the remnants of the Cruciatus Curse, and her arm felt as though it were on fire, blood seeping through the cloak Draco had hastily wrapped around her wound.
When the world righted itself moments later and Hermione could focus, it was to view in confusion as Draco sank to his knees, his back to her now.
"…What?"
Next to her Harry cursed so badly that, normally, Hermione would have admonished him.
But then she saw it. Saw what the rest were staring at in abject horror.
Narcissa Malfoy lay limp in the sand, her head drawn into Draco's lap, the silver dagger embedded into her skull.
Hermione gasped, her hands covering her mouth. "Oh my… Oh…"
She turned to look at Harry, who looked lost and angry and shocked.
"What…?" She couldn't finish the sentence, her voice breaking, but Harry didn't need her to.
"Wormtail… he threw the dagger. I… I saw it going towards Malfoy… and then she," he nodded towards the lifeless body of Narcissa Malfoy, "She got in front of him. …She took it…"
Harry's voice broke then too, and he turned and stepped away from the group, his jaw working furiously as he attempted to keep himself together.
From the sand, Hermione heard Draco.
"No, no, no, no, no, no, no," He was rocking, his body hunched over his mother.
From next to her, where she hadn't even realized he was standing, Lucius stumbled forward, drawn to his wife and son like a magnet. His face was drained of color, his eyes wide. He looked frightened, more so than she had ever seen him. He went to the other side of Narcissa, mirroring Draco and sinking to his knees next to her.
Draco looked up at his father. The cry that he emitted was like that of a wounded animal. Hermione watched, unable to move, as Draco's hand reached for handle of the knife, but it shook violently, and hovered just above it, as though he could not touch it.
"Get this out of her," Draco cried, laying the hand on his mother's forehead instead, a terrible sob ripping from his throat.
Lucius looked at his son, and then down to his wife. He seemed not to comprehend.
"…Narcissa."
Hermione barely caught Lucius' breathless issuance of his wife's name.
"The knife!" Draco shouted, his face red and wet with tears. "Take out the knife!"
Lucius just stared at his wife, still disoriented.
"Narcissa," he whispered again. It was as though he expected her to leap from the ground.
Hermione choked on a sob, unable to move, rooted to the ground.
It was Harry that seemed to come to himself then, and he walked to Draco and knelt beside him. Without words, he grasped the handle of the dagger and removed it from its place just above the knit in Narcissa's brows. There was a terrible moment as blood began to well from the wound, but acting quickly, Harry took his wand and murmured an unheard spell, and the gash healed, so that Narcissa's skin was smooth and undamaged.
Draco's sobs became worse then, one hand still on Narcissa's forehead, the other wrapping across her body to grip her arm. Harry stood and walked from them, staring out at a sea that gave the impression it went on forever. He seemed to come to himself, realizing that he was still holding the dagger, and with an angry grunt and brought his hand back and flung the offensive item into the ocean as hard a he could.
They all stood there then for long minutes that felt like hours, unable to tear their eyes away from the weeping boy holding his mother.
They stayed longer still, when Lucius began to cry as well.
It was hours later that Draco was able to pry himself away form the lifeless body of his mother, long enough that the tide had begun to lap at his ankles. Every time he thought he could cry no more, that there was nothing left in him, a fresh wave of grief struck him like a physical blow, and a torrent of wracking sobs would set itself upon him.
There was a brief reprieve now though, shock seeming to settle into his bones as if it were making a home. Sitting in the sand, staring blankly out into the darkening sky and blue expanse, his father sat, silent tears leaving tracks down his face. Draco stood, lifting his mother just as he'd done to Hermione earlier, cradling her gently in his arms. He turned to see Harry making his way from the small cottage that was in the distance, shovels in his hand.
It was like he'd read his mind.
Draco's knees shook, and for a moment his resolve to remain calm, at least for the time being, almost broke.
He was going to bury his mother.
He took deep breaths as Harry walked to him, willing himself to calm.
"I thought," Harry began when he reached him, "We could place her on the hill."
Draco could not speak. He looked to his father, but Lucius did not return his sons gaze. Draco saw his slight nod, and in turn he nodded to Harry.
They walked to the hill then, Lucius stumbling behind them as they climbed. Draco lay Narcissa's body on the ground, and the three of them looked down at her for a moment. Draco thought it looked as though she could be sleeping.
A breeze blew from the ocean, and it sent a chill up Draco's back. Without a word, Lucius removed his robes and laid them over Narcissa, as though he were attempting to protect her from the cold.
The cold can't touch her now, thought Draco, and he again fought back tears.
Instead he looked to Harry and the shovels.
"Without magic," he stated, and Harry nodded.
It was nightfall when the three of them finished. They were joined by Hermione (whose arm had been bandaged), Fleur, Charlie, Ron, and Luna. Wand light surrounded the grave as Lucius gently lay Narcissa down in the deep grave, still wrapped in his cloak. The only sound was that of the crashing waves against the shore. When earth covered the grave, with his mother encased in it, Draco felt emotion rising in him. Soundless tears raced across his cheeks, and when he felt his fathers hand grip his shoulder, he had to fight to keep his grief silent.
Lucius, who had been returned his wand by Harry, levitated a large stone to lay overtop the grave. When he spoke, it was with a voice that was trying very hard to drown emotion.
"I love.. I loved this woman."
It was all he seemed to be able to say. Draco leaned into him then, and in a rare moment of affection, Lucius wrapped his arm around his sons shoulders tightly. With a flick of his wand words were engraved into the stone.
Narcissa Malfoy
Devoted Wife and Mother
Who Died Protecting What She Loved Most
Without being able to speak more words, they made their way to the cottage, Draco this time the one stumbling, his vision blured by tears, his only guidance that of his fathers hands on his shoulders. He was sat at a small kitchen table and given firewhiskey. Words were spoken, but he was unable to hear or comprehend them.
Eventually he was led to a bed, and he felt the pull of sleep begin to drag him under as soon as his head hit the pillow. That last thing he registered was the faint sound of Hermione's sobs.
Hermione, and the ocean.
"The sea is emotion incarnate. It loves, hates, and weeps. It defies all attempts to capture it with words and rejects all shackles. No matter what you say about it, there is always that which you can't."
-Christopher Paolini
Author's Note: Sorry I seem to make Draco cry all the damn time. And also, sorry for the short, depressing chapter. Review! If you do, I will love you forever.
Remember when I thought this would only be 4 or 5 chapters? Ha!
