I said I was going to post a short chapter before and I had it written timely, but then it was so short I decided it wasn't worth it. If I was going to post it was going to be big.

So here is chapter eleven. Enjoy!

Chapter 11: Fear's Pathways

Narcissa

Events were going exactly as planned. Better than planned. The girl was progressing in her learning at an incredible pace. She was eager and determined to master anything thrown at her. Perfectly willing to do anything asked of her. The perfect student, the perfect weapon for the Dark Lord. His excitement in Rebecca Nils was strangely obvious. Bella too showed an unorthodox amount of outward joy.

My sister had spoken excitedly of the girl's accomplishment as she sat in the parlor with my me and my husband before leaving for another lesson. Her zealous tone carried all the love she had for the Dark Lord and, by extension, for Miss Nils. Though, I had to wonder if her exuberance in the young girl wasn't totally derived from the Dark Lord. She was almost too enthusiastic about her current task for that to be all.

I didn't think she was even consciously aware of the way her face glowed as she spoke. She hadn't been quite so happy for over twenty years. I would never share my suspicions with my sister, but I couldn't help but think this had something to do with her inability to have children.

Andromeda had her mutant child and I had my Draco, but Bella had only the Dark Lord. Inwardly I had always conjectured that one of her initial reasons for throwing herself so obsessively into the Dark Lord's movement stemmed from her husband's displeasure at her shortcomings. She had filled the void where a baby should have been with Voldemort. What she lacked in fertility, she made up for in magic and ruthlessness.

The Dark Lord, unlike Rodolphus, did not care that she was barren. He accepted her only on the condition that she use her wand for him and his cause. Bella was all too happy to comply.

But this usually led to jealousy on her part for anything that dragged the Dark Lord's attention from her. Based on past experience, his pleasure in Miss Nils' powers should have incited an envious rage within my sister, not this triumphant joy.

I could only think that some sort of maternal instinct, made more potent by Voldemort's approval, was guiding her actions.

If only such a thing had happened with a less dangerous girl, in a less dangerous time. If Bella had only had a child twenty years ago, would she have become the hardened monster she was now? If she had found someone to love as I loved my son, might she never have become this? Might I still have my beloved sister?

I could only guess.

I wanted to share my musings with my husband, but I wasn't sure he would listen. Once upon a time he would have found the topic interesting, if only because I did, but now he had little energy to spare for something unimportant and simply lacked the will to muster up anything extra.

So I left him to his business and continued to ponder silently. I was pretending to read a book of old poems but I hadn't turned the page in half an hour. I set it aside and reached instead for the cup of tea I had set on the side table next to the settee I was currently lounging on.

A charm had kept it warm while I left it unattended and I held the china in my hands for a moment before taking a sip. The heat felt good in my hands, comforting even.

That is, until the house elf popped into the parlor with the bang of apparation and the scalding liquid sloshed out of the cup and down my dress. I hissed in pain and shot a murderous glare at my asinine servant.

"What is it?" I demanded, patting my dress in a vain attempt to reduce the damage to the fabric.

Lucius looked up from his reading, concern flashing briefly in his eyes. But he soon settled back down and returned to his deadened state.

A wave of sadness spread through me as I glanced at the zombie. I had once had a vibrant, powerful, self-assured man supporting me. Losing him felt like losing half of my soul. I floundered with despair for a moment, thinking of how my life was being wrenched from me, piece by piece. But I hid my pain behind a mask of disgust and directed my ire at the source of my ruined dress instead of the actual issues.

The elf was shaking so badly I wondered if he was going to go into a seizure. I inhaled deeply in preparation for a lengthy and heated berating, but then I recognized which elf it was.

I had given this particular creature the assignment to alert me if anything happened to Draco. He was my personal spy of sorts, watching over my son and Miss Nils.

Burned skin and dress utterly forgotten, I sprang from my seat and grabbed the elf by the sheet he covered himself with and brought him directly to my eye level.

"What happened?" I hissed, giving the creature a jerk to emphasize my impatience.

"Narcissa!" Lucius called in shock from behind me.

I ignored him like he ignored everything else. "Tell me, you useless little cretin! What happened?" The elf stammered apologies and I shook him again. "Just tell me!"

"Black monsters attacked Master Draco, Mistress. He was greatly injured. Mistress Bellatrix has someone looking at him but there was much blood and you asked that I come to you immediately if—"

I did not give him a chance to finish speaking. I dropped the thing and dashed from the room. I heard my husband call from behind me but I paid him no heed.

I ran for the Nightmare Chamber, pushing aside anyone who happened to be in my way. There was a meeting tonight and many dark robed acolytes were milling about. Imbeciles, all of them. Thinking they were so powerful, right on the edge of victory. I hated them. Hated them all.

But my urgency was more important than my dislike of the death eaters invading my home. I found the medical team gathered outside the chamber. Two wizards knelt around my son. He was unconscious, but I could see his chest moving. He was alive. I sighed in relief and slowed my panicked pace to a more dignified and authoritative stride.

One wizard was wrapping bandages around his arms while another wizard applied some sort of ointment to his skin.

"What happened?!" I demanded when I reached them.

"An accident, Mrs. Malfoy." The wizard spreading the ointment told me without looking up.

Accident? I sincerely doubted that. The dubious claim became even less believable as I got a look at the slashes all over my son's body. Spells kept him from bleeding out, but the wide jagged lines of red crisscrossing all over his skin were clearly visible. He looked like something had chewed him up and spat him out.

Hot rage bubbled in my chest. She had hurt my son.

"What happened?" I repeated icily.

"He stepped inside the chamber mid-session and the... He was attacked by... Some sort of monster." The bandager spoke in a shaky voice.

Monster indeed.

The one with the ointment assure me that he would recover. The wounds were mostly superficial. Now that they had stopped the bleeding he should be fine.

"Where is she?" I growled. Now that I knew Draco was safe I would find that blonde girl and show her just what it meant to hurt my son.

"Where is who, Mrs. Malfoy?" The medic-wizard asked calmly. I bristled at his tone. So simple and unconcerned, as if he didn't care who he was talking to or that he was operating on my child.

"The girl who did this!" I shrieked at him.

The bandager finished with my boy's arms and, hands shaking, tied a knot in the fabric. "Please, ma'am. They're still here." He whispered in a frightened voice.

I stared at him incredulously and he nodded to the walls. My eyes flicked around and at first I saw nothing but the stones that made up this particular hallway. But as I looked harder they began to surface. Bubbling up from the shadows, eyes and heads rose from the darkness to sneer at me. The more I looked, the more of them grew out of the walls until a veritable army of creatures lurked in every shadow.

Rebecca Nils' army. The Dark Lord's army. They had done it.

And my son had fallen in their path.

I knelt down next to the medic-wizard and brushed aside some of Draco's hair from his forehead. It was sticky with sweat and blood and it crackled under my fingers. I tried to ignore the presence of the shadow monsters around me as I stroked his face. His slow breaths moved over my fingertips and I half-wished he could remain asleep forever. That way he would no longer be a part of this horror.

The wizards around me pulled out their wands to levitate him away.

"We'll take him to his room, Mrs. Malfoy. You needn't worry about him." I almost laughed. How could anyone say that?

I watched them carry away my son. I remained where I was even as the house elves came to clean away the bloody marks on the ground—all the while shadows looked on.

They wiped away the traces of that girl's brutality, away the signs of my son. Soon we would all be gone, just like that.

I barely heard the footsteps that came from behind me. The cold hand that touched my arm to draw me away felt like a ghost, far away and formless.

"Narcissa. You shouldn't be down here. It's cold and you aren't healthy…"

"Don't pretend like it matters, Lucius." I spat out, anger standing as the only concrete thing in my life.

"Cissy, be reasonable." He pleaded.

I spun around and jerked away from him. "No! Lucius, no!" My eyes narrowed at his thin figure. "There is no more 'being reasonable'! Our son almost died! Do you see that blood? That is your son's blood! Your blood!"

He shifted his weight uncomfortably, but did not respond.

I continued my rant in lieu of his silence. "Do you see them? Do you see the monsters she created? The creatures you have let into our house? Don't you even care anymore!? We're dying, Lucius! One by one we will be eliminated! Is that what you want? Is that what you planned for the great house of Malfoy? To become this? This sham of honor? What honor is there when your only child is dying?"

"Stop!" He yelled, roughly grabbing my shoulders. "Stop right there, Narcissa! I have done everything I could for us! Everything I could to keep us alive!"

His eyes were wild and his grip too tight, but I was too hurt already to care.

"Everything!? Really, Lucius? Well, good job. You have landed our home in the hands of a maniac and now we're all dying! Draco is unconscious and they've already dug my grave! Thank you, Lucius, for doing everything!"

"You and Draco are not dying. The Dark Lord promised—"

I scoffed. "You think the Dark Lord cares about something as stupid as a promise Lucius? You think he will actually protect us when the time comes? Lucius, he doesn't care about us! We're pawns, useless expendable pawns!"

"We've survived this long, Narcissa. I've kept us alive—"

"For what? So we can cater to our replacements? So we can walk around like wraiths in our own home? My son is dying, Lucius! We're running out of things to be alive for!"

"Don't say that!" He yelled, giving me a desperate shake. "Cissy, you are not dying! Do you hear me? Draco is not dying! I've made sure of it!"

I shoved his hands off my shoulders and moved away. "Forgive me if I don't believe you anymore." I spoke in a low tone. My arm swept out to point at the creatures watching our spat. "Wake up, Lucius. You're useless and you've failed us! We're failing. We've failed."

Lucius opened his mouth to respond, but a door creaking open behind us prevented him from speaking.

Bellatrix stepped out of the Nightmare chamber, Rebecca Nils following closely behind.

The house elves scampered out of sight, but the monsters in the hall all turned to the blonde teenager as she passed, each one bowing a monstrous head in reverence for her. Once creature sat on her shoulder, gripping her shirt with spiny claws. A long tail wrapped around her back and twisted up over her other shoulder.

Her eyes seemed oddly dim. The creature nuzzled against her neck like some abominable pet and she absently scratched behind one ragged ear.

Bella spotted the two of us first and a broad, genuine smile spread over her face. She almost skipped over to me, wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and hugged me. Shock overpowered my anger and I was at a loss on how to respond.

"This is a glorious day, Cissy." She whispered in my ear, excitement lacing every word. "I know you fear for your son, but that isn't necessary. He will be fine." She held me at arm's length. "Rejoice now, dear sister. The happy day at last has come."

She was so…joyous. The light in her eyes was so reminiscent of our younger days, when the three of us lived as sisters, happy and care-free. I couldn't bring myself to disagree with her, no matter how much I knew she was wrong. There was no point.

What sick god was playing with me? My sister finally comes back to me, finally regains that spirit she had when we were growing up, and it is at the expense of everything else I love. What terrible, terrible irony has filled the joke of my existence?

Bella let me go and returned to her student's side to guide her away.

Her head turned to Lucius. "I will see you in the master's chambers in half an hour, brother. We have great news to share." He nodded. She flash that smile at us and led the monster away.

The creatures followed them, many sliding over my skin. I shivered as they passed and then turned to my husband.

I wanted to scream at him again but I found I had nothing I could say. I felt defeated and raw, like there was nothing left in me. I wanted to say something biting and vindictive, something to communicate just how hopeless and destroyed I felt, but there were no words.

Lucius and I simply looked at each other, each waiting for the other to do something.

When tears began their shameful trek down my cheeks I bowed my head and left him.

Lucius Malfoy

The army was ready. That was the new of tonight's meeting. Originally it had been a routine check-up, a meeting where each sector leader gave a report of their progress. But my dear sister-in-law had an important announcement and it took precedence over the regular agenda.

Rebecca Nils had succeeded in creating a destructive force of infinite proportions. It entered as she spoke, sliding out of shadows, rising forth from pools of darkness to hover menacingly over every death eater.

Untold numbers came from everywhere and nowhere. The smallest bit of shadow could hide thousands of these creatures and they were all poised to attack.

It took all of my control to keep from reacting. Most especially as Voldemort began his sermon on our purpose and goals. It could have been from an awakened preacher, the passion and power in his voice was so strong. But the implications in the speech were hard to forget.

"All this from one girl. One teenage girl. How easily she has done so much for us."

We were not as useful. We had failed to bring forth the power he really needed.

"They've already proven their destructive capabilities.'

I could hear my wife's words in my head. That is your son, Lucius. She and the Dark Lord kept a running commentary in my mind as I sat in my study.

The Dark Lord spoke of us as his 'trusted few' but all I could think of was Narcissa's more accurate word: Pawns. No one was among that few.

He doesn't care about us!

Soon he would grow tired of giving us pointless jobs to fulfill. How many people would he really need under him when his regime fully took over?

"Be ready, my servants. The end is near."

The end for whom? When the ranks were cut down, who would be lost? The Malfoys had failed him before.

I swirled the dark liquid in my glass. It was a tart, bitter wine. It had been a bad year, but all the good bottles had been given to the Dark Lord. Like everything else.

I had given everything to him in an attempt to appease his appetite, to protect my family. Absolutely everything. And now he would take my son to show his power. Draco was an easy sacrifice for the good of the mission. If he died by Rebecca's hand, who could argue with her power? And the less one could argue, the stronger she was.

I sighed and set the wine glass on my desk. I couldn't drink any more of it. It wasn't like it actually helped anyway. The bitter taste felt like justice on my tongue, but it was as fleeting as any other attempt at comfort I made.

I rose from the chair and left the study to enter my bedchambers.

I found my wife asleep on the settee in the antechamber. Despite her screams down below, she still tried to wait up for my return, like always.

You're useless.

Her hair, now far more white than blonde, was hanging limply about her shoulders and over her face. A book sat open on her lap. I noticed idly that it was the same book of poetry she had been trying to get through for the past month. I doubted she had even gone beyond the first page.

She tired easily now. The curse mark across her back sapped at her energy. Her breathing was heavy—a sharp, labored inhale followed by a stuttering, painful exhale. The Dark Lord had punished her for speaking out against his treatment of our family several months before.

It was a debilitating curse, draining from her very life force and sucking it away. The energy was feeding into some sort of container, but I was not told what or where it was. Likely it was on the Dark Lord's person, but I could hardly ask him.

Gently, I slid my hands underneath my wife and lifted her off the cushions.

I had always been able to carry her. Narcissa had had weight problems ever since she was a little girl. An early birth and then bouts with eating disorders during school had left her thin to begin with, though she usually covered it well. The curse dragged down her already sickly figure into what felt like nothing in my arms.

Her vibrant, unconquerable personality had always carried her through before, but while asleep all I could see was pain.

The image of the tears running down her face flashed in my mind as I carefully eased her onto out bed. She was still wearing her day dress so I loosened the strings running up the back so she might breathe easier. A small curling tendril of the black curse poked into my vision. The entire thing stretched all the way down her back and around her sides. Three large, runic circles surrounded one knife-cut brand. It was an old practice—the draining curse—but it was effective.

I covered her shoulder with an old quilt and smoothed down her hair, attempting to make her as comfortable as possible.

I loved my wife. I always had. It had been a long, hard-fought victory with my parents to allow me to marry her. Her older sister was considered a better match with her healthier constitution. Everyone had been aware of Cissy's dietary troubles even if most did not speak of it. It was a dirty topic and not for polite conversation.

But it certainly came up with my parents. Her fertility was in question and if she could not have children, how could the Malfoy name go on? Bellatrix was barren, why not her? Andromeda had seemed to have escaped that fate (though her associations with that mudblood had made her a little less stunning in my parents' eyes). Narcissa's menstrual cycles had been unstable at best. At her worst health she didn't have them at all.

I hadn't cared. She was beautiful and she had stood against her difficulties by sheer force of will and unconquerable personality I had not been able to resist. She would be a perfect Malfoy and any children by her would uphold a mighty heritage.

But more than all that, she had a deep and secret care for those around her. My Cissy loved. She hid her capacity for such, but that did not diminish its strength. I had known about and wanted that love for my own. Cissy had not stopped eating because of fears for her looks. Her anorexia had stemmed from the loss of Andromeda. Her sister had stolen a piece of Narcissa she probably did know she had owned. To be honest, dear Dromeda still owned that sliver of my wife's heart.

And Narcissa had been able to get pregnant, several times in fact. Two miscarriages had preceded Draco, but that only made him that much more miraculous. Underneath all the stress and pain, a beautiful baby boy had come to our lives. The pregnancy and labor had nearly killed my wife, but she had always said it was worth it.

I had cared for our boy in the first few weeks. Cissy had gone into intensive care while I fed Draco formulated milk in a rocking chair by her bed. I had kept him alive for that first month of his life, but Narcissa had stepped out of line for him in the end, had put her head on the chopping block again for her son.

And now she was dying. There was no way I could continue to deny it. My beloved would leave me soon. And if the Dark Lord had his way, so would my son.

My son.

His life was all that really mattered. All Narcissa wanted, had ever wanted, was for her baby to live. I could give her that.

I would forfeit my life in the process, but that meant nothing. It had been proven time and again that I was nothing now. My parents had always taught me that prolonging the Malfoys was top priority. That name meant nothing now, but my son meant everything.

Draco would live.

If I could only do that much then my life would not have been wasted.

"Draco will live." I whispered the promise to my sleeping wife, before kissing her cheek and turning away.

I left our room and made my way to Draco's chambers where he would be sleeping. I had to get him out tonight or there would never be another chance.

There were shadow creatures all over the manor, watching me as I traveled to my son's room. I entered the antechamber and peered around at them.

They were hideous creatures, blacker than the night and far deadlier. But my life was over already and I had nothing to fear from them. In fact, in reality, they did not exist. They were figments of Rebecca's imagination, given substance and power by my belief.

But they had no power over me tonight. The living could not fight the dead.

The glowing red eyes blinked out as the monsters faded back into the shadows.

I continued on my way, entering Draco's bed chambers. I found him asleep in his bed, heavily bandaged and unconscious. He was probably full of spells and potions to keep him asleep but leaving him that way would be too much trouble. I needed him to be able to run on his own.

I covered his mouth with my left hand and flicked my wand with the other, silently countering whatever spells kept him asleep.

His eyes flickered open blurrily, obviously confused about what was happening. But he soon lost all traces of sleep and began to struggle against my restraint. It was dark but I could see the wild and frightened expression on his face. I held tight against his mouth, muffling the panicked shout and holding him down on the bed.

"Draco!" I hissed sharply. "Draco, stop."

It took him a moment to register my voice but he eventually stopped fighting me. I released him and stepped away from the bed.

"Father, what—"

"Put this on." I tossed him a cloak he had hanging from his wardrobe and began searching for some shoes he could put on. The healers had removed his shirt and I didn't have time to search for one that was soft enough to go over his injuries yet still suitable for escaping. I doubted he had any. We had always prided ourselves on providing our son with the most expensive and most fashionable clothing, none of which would be of any help in the current situation. What good were fancy silks and Italian shoes when they could cost my son his life?

"Father, what are you doing?" Draco asked. He hadn't moved from the bed. "What happened to Rebecca?"

I ignored him and grabbed hold of a pair of riding boots. They were meant for sitting in stirrups of rare magical horses, not running but they would have to do.

"Put these on. Hurry." I commanded, striding over to his bed and jerking his blankets off of him. He still had pants on—though they were thin and meant for sleeping in. The monsters had apparently centered their attack on his upper body. That at least was a small blessing.

He moved off the bed in an agonizingly slow motion. He was obviously in a lot of pain but he made no sound of it. He probably felt the need to hide it from me. I felt ashamed at that thought.

I grabbed the cloak and clasped it around his neck. I then helped him into the boots and pointed my wand at his head. A simple spell altered the distinctive coloration of his hair, which I covered again with the cloak's hood.

"Father, why—"

"Keep quiet, Draco. I'm doing something I should have done months ago. Grab your wand and follow me."

He obeyed, probably out of fear. I wished I could somehow communicate my love for him now, somehow explain that he was everything I had hoped he could be and I had always been proud of him. But I did not know how. All I could do was lead him through the hallways and out of the manor, to the stables where I had taught him to ride a pony when he was just a small boy.

I had never had much interest in horses but my wife did and so I had provided what I could for her. Draco had found the same love of the equine animals as she did and I had invested even more into the sport. These stables were a masterpiece only money could buy. But I had had them built in the place of an old building my ancestors had used as a storage unit—and an emergency escape.

Three tunnels led out from underneath these stables, each leading to a separate location. My ancestors had hoped that in this way the Malfoys could split up and increase the chance of them surviving.

I brought Draco into the tack room and removed one of the professionally made saddles from its hook. I then tapped an intricate pattern on the empty space and whispered the password. A wide hole opened in the wall and I motioned for Draco to go through.

"Where are we going?" He asked, hesitating. He had winced with every step he took and was breathing heavily now but the boy had endured silently all through the trek. I couldn't let him rest, not with time so valuable, but this would probably be the last time I would see my son.

"We aren't going anywhere." I told him. "You are leaving. This tunnel will take you to a fork where you can choose one of three escape routes. Any of them will take you far enough away to give you a good chance of staying safe."

"But, Father—"

I stopped him with a hand. "No, Draco. You have to go. You have to survive. This is your only chance."

He still didn't move. "I don't want to leave you and mother."

I wanted to hug him, hold him. Anything just to show him how much I cared, how much I appreciated his concern, but I couldn't. I had to get him to leave.

Instead of love, I showed him anger. I roughly grabbed his cloak and threw him into the secret passage. He jumped to his feet, but I had closed the wall before he could return.

I replaced the saddle and turned away from the place I had left my son. "Please, let him live." I whispered to whatever was listening.

I gave myself one moment to grieve, one moment to wish I was leaving with my only child.

But only one moment. It was all I had to spare. I still had one more mission to complete.

I left the stables.

Rebecca Nils

I hadn't known who was entering the room. I thought he was part of the exercise. Like, anther phantom fear I was supposed to defeat.

I hadn't even ordered the attack, I had just wanted to overcome it all and it had just…happened.

I called them off immediately. Right as I realized it was Draco and not some dream of mine, but it had been too late. He was writhing on the ground, bleeding everywhere. I ran to him, yelling his name and desperately trying to think of a way to help him. I had screwed up. All I'd done was hurt someone.

Bella came next to me and wrapped her arms around me, pulling me from the blood.

"Draco!" I shouted as I tried to pull away.

"Rebec—" He was coughing up blood, but his eyes were open and looking straight at me. I looked right back at him, afraid to see the accusations I knew had to be lurking behind his pupils.

He was angry... but not at me.

I stopped fighting Bella's hold, shock replacing my panic. He didn't think it was my fault. Instead, from what I could gather, he seemed to pity me. He felt sorrow.

One fragmented thought transferred from his mind to mine before Bella's wand closed Draco's eyes from me.

This is the beginning.

Beginning of what? What had I just done? What was happening to me?

I felt dazed. I barely noticed as Bella called for a medical team. Two wizards entered the room and did a quick examination of Draco. One of them announced that his vitals appeared to be fine and that the blood loss appeared to be superficial. Draco would recover fine, but they needed to stop the bleeding and get him away from the room. I didn't need to look at them to know of the fear they held for me and the creatures milling about around me. I knew Draco did not really need to be moved to be treated; they just wanted to leave the room.

Bella waited until the door had shut behind them to talk to me. I turned my head to look at her, hoping to find some sort of certainty in her sure eyes. It was still there. She still believed in me, still held firm to that rock that was her belief.

"What—" I started to ask a question but she placed a finger over my lips to silence me.

"Do not think any less of yourself for what has happened. A simple mistake of idiocy has occurred by no fault of yours. Do you understand?" She spoke clearly and directly, addressing my concerns with a strict finality that halted my wavering.

I nodded.

A smile spread over her face and she leaned down to kiss my forehead. It was an oddly familiar gesture, one any member of my family might have done. I felt comforted by it.

Bella slipped her arms around me and pulled me close, whispering words of encouragement in my ear. I buried my face in her shoulder and let her push my fears away.

I wasn't aware of time passing as we stood like that, but eventually she let me go.

"Rebecca, I want you to remember how important you are. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. Anyone who tries to pull you down is inferior and wants you to think the same. You are a powerful and amazing witch and no one can take that away from you. Just look around." She swept an arm out at the army of shadows all looking up at me.

I looked around the room. Every single one of them had been created to do my will. I had minions. Dark, evil little minions. I couldn't count how many of them there actually were, but I could tell that each wanted to do whatever I wished; each wanted me to be happy.

One stepped out of the masses and bowed before my feet. It was the only one that had an absolute shape. It had an imp-ish body, tiny and gangly, with spiny elbows and spikes down his back. A long tail stretched out behind it, flicking around in the air. Big, floppy ears stuck out of a slightly canine face. One ear was ripped in an oddly endearing way.

This was the representative leader of my legion, the icon I would think of when I considered the things I had created. I glanced over at Bella who nodded encouragingly and then knelt down to look him directly in the eye.

"Demichael." It hissed in a gravelly voice, naming itself. I nodded. It had no real gender, but the name seemed masculine to me. I decided to think of the little creature as a boy.

I reached out a hand and the creature scampered up to curl around my neck. I was reminded of a pirate's parrot and smiled. "Demichael." I repeated. He nuzzled up against my cheek. The skin was coarse, but not uncomfortable leather.

This thing wasn't a monster. In fact, it was kind of cute. I had turned the embodiment of my fears into a manageable pet. It had been a mistake that Draco had been hurt, like Bella said. I would be more careful with how I used this new extension of my powers to make sure no one was hurt. Bella was right.

I stood up and she motioned for me to follow her.

We walked out of the chamber to find Draco's parents. My confidence of a minute ago melted. They would hate me. There was no way they could not hate me.

Bella, however, strode right up to her younger sister and hugged her. I averted my eyes, partially to give the sisters a moment together, partially to avoid looking directly into either of the Malfoys' eyes.

I waited until my teacher collected me again and continued walking. I still refused to look at the parents as we walked past them.

Bella brought me back to my room. She stayed with me for a while, stroking my hair and gently reminding me that I was not at fault for the accident. Draco would be fine.

There was a meeting with the death eaters so she could not stay long. I didn't want her to go. I was afraid that if she left me, her confidence wouldn't stay with me and I might have some sort of relapse. Most of all I simply didn't want to be alone.

She promised to return as quickly as she could and then reminded me that I had an endless supply of companions readily available. My chief shadow creature hopped into my lap at that point and curled up like some sort of reptilian demon-cat. Despite myself I smiled. Bella kissed the top of my head and left the room.

I thought I should find Demichael disturbing, or at the very least it should make me nervous. But he was an extension of me and I felt like he was simply an old, volatile friend. He was built of anger and fear, smashed into a little physical body. Naturally he was inclined to attack, but his existence was built around my need for control. If I didn't want someone attacked he would not, or rather, could not do so.

He was like the perfect servant. And I had created him.

That fascinated me. I had made something solid and living. Something that continued to exist outside the chamber. Even sitting in my room, where everything was solid and dreams normally faded, Demichael was real.

It should have been impossible but I had done it. As terrible as it was, my creatures had attacked and actually hurt Draco. They could affect the environment. They were as real as the bed I sat on. It was simultaneously disturbing and compelling. It was like I had just discovered some huge scientific discovery. If I could create this, what else could I make?

Were there even limits on what I could do? If my powers stemmed directly from my imagination, there were no boundaries. Anything could come out of my head.

I was hesitant to experiment without some form of supervision, but I could play with what I already had.

"Could you bring me a shirt?" I asked the creature on my lap.

It immediately leapt off the bed a dove through the wardrobe, without opening the doors. This briefly excited me, but Demichael returned empty handed.

He apparently couldn't affect inanimate objects.

I sighed in disappointment. I supposed it wasn't right for anyone to really be on par with God in power. Being able to create life like that would have been a bit too much for a mortal being.

But it would have been nice.

It made sense anyway. My creations were based on perceptions and belief. I believed in my shadows so they were given the power to affect me. Draco believed in them so they were able to touch him. The shirt wasn't able to believe in anything so it was unaffected by the shadows. My powers were only useful against living things. So they would be no help against a rock slide or some sort of golem. But how often did that happen?

People attacked people. It would be people who attacked me.

I glanced at a clock that had been set in a corner. Bella had said the meeting would be short—half an hour at most. Then she would come get me and bring me to dinner.

I fidgeted in impatience. I wanted to keep focused on something. I had achieved something today and I did not want to slip backward. But it was hard to simply wait.

Draco had brought me a book at some point. It was an anthology of wizard fairy tales—all very simple to read and full of morals without deep plots and could pass the time. I scooped it up off the bedside table and flipped it open to a random fable. I hadn't heard of any of these stories before—which was actually the reason Draco had brought it to me. He had been flabbergasted at the missing piece of my childhood and sought to rectify it.

I still felt that his lack of kindergarten outweighed my lack of British fairy tales, but he didn't believe me.

I flipped the pages idly as the clock ticked. Whatever the doctor was giving me for my stomach seemed to be working, but my eyes were still handicapped. This book had large print and many pictures which lessened the strain considerably, but the pages were still white.

A knock at the door pulled me from my reading. Expecting it to be Bella, I set the book down and rushed over to the door. I opened it not to the comforting eyes of my teacher however, but to the downcast face of Mr. Malfoy. I immediately tensed up.

He was keeping his eyes averted. This wasn't exactly strange—except for the first night when I had dinner with the Malfoys, Lucius had generally never met my eyes. Given the circumstances though, I desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head.

"Is Draco okay?" I asked when he said nothing for a good thirty seconds.

"He's fine. He'll survive." I sighed in relief. "You missed dinner though, in all the confusion, didn't you?"

That seemed like an odd thing to be thinking of when your son was probably lying in a hospital bed, but maybe it meant that Draco wasn't hurt nearly as bad as I thought he had been. "Yeah, I did. But it's okay. Bella said she would bring me something after the meeting."

"The meeting is over. Bella got held over to discuss things with the Dark Lord. I was told to bring you to dinner in her stead."

Something felt off about the way he was standing. It was as if his usually hunched shoulders were suddenly being forced down by his own will instead of shame. Whatever was different, it made me nervous. But I didn't want to be rude. I had just majorly hurt his son, after all.

"Okay." I finally said. He couldn't really hurt me after all. How bad could dinner really be?

I followed him down the hallway, closing the door carefully behind me.

We walked silently, me a few paces behind the older man. I wanted to initiate some sort of conversation but I felt too awkward to come up with something. Instead I absorbed myself in watching the way the shadows moved around me. My little legion was like some sort of black ocean waves swelling around me. It made me feel safer knowing something was around me protecting me.

I wasn't really sure where we were going. The mansion was big enough that I never went anywhere without an escort. I spent most of my time in a limited number of rooms anyway, so I did not realize until I was inside Mr. Malfoy's study that we were headed away from the dining room.

The door shut behind me and I turned suspicious eyes on Mr. Malfoy. "Are we eating in here?" I asked in confusion.

"No."

"Then why are we—" His hand jerked and something flew through the air and slammed into my stomach. I had a few seconds of shocked bewilderment before I glanced down to see the hilt of a dagger protruding from my belly.

I let out a sharp gasp of pain and slumped back against the door.

"What are you doing?" I gasped. I tried to remember what I had learned in first aide classes. Was it better to leave the knife in or pull it out? The knife would keep me from bleeding out until help got there…right? Was that right?

"What is necessary." He stepped forward and made the choice for me, jerking the knife back out of my stomach. He jerked me to the side as he did so, and I stumbled to the ground further away from the door. "Miss Nils, you have to understand. Your death will give Draco a chance to escape. The Dark Lord would have sacrificed him in the interest of expanding your fame and thereby your power."

"I wouldn't... I didn't mean for him to get hurt!" I defended myself weakly, stuffing my hand into the gush of blood and trying to stop up the hole.

"You never do. You never think anyone will get hurt. But then one and then two and then everyone you love is hurting and it's all because you wanted to do the right thing in the wrong way. It was always wrong—so very wrong. You get that, don't you?" I sort of understood what he was saying, and that most of it wasn't actually referring to me, but it was the way he said it was most alarming. He was speaking so calmly, with that odd aristocratic air that only a well-bred Britt could pull off. He even withdrew a handkerchief to wipe off some of the blood coating the knife in his hand.

I couldn't quite form coherent thoughts that could translate into proper sentences. I stayed with broken phrases mixed in with whimpers of pain. "Why? You—What?"

He never looked at me, but he seemed to know what I was asked. "I've made so many mistakes, especially where it matters most. I put my son in danger."

"I—"

"No, Miss Nils, you may not have hurt him on purpose, but he should never have been in the situation that gave you the opportunity to do so. That is my fault. I brought you here and I allowed my son to get involved. And to be honest, I have full confidence that with your help the Dark Lord will succeed. But if he wins, my son loses and I cannot allow that to happen. Do you understand now?"

I wasn't sure I did. I wasn't sure who he was blaming or what he thought was going to happen. My brain was feeling more and more foggy. "Demichael…" I whispered. The creature jumped forward, attempting to attack my assaulter. He passed right through Lucius.

My eyes widened in shock and my hopes sunk to despair. How could that have happened? How could he be immune? I looked at the door, trying to find a way to escape. They had taken my ring; I couldn't use any defensive spells. I highly doubted I would be able to run fast enough to get away.

I needed help. Demichael could not touch Lucius, but he could get Bella. "Go." I whispered. It understood my meaning and slipped through the wall. I just had to keep Lucius talking until help came. Of course…that required the mental faculties to perform speech.

"Do you know why I did not kill you immediately?"

Oh good. He would talk on his own. I shook my head vigorously.

"I wanted someone to know, even if it was only for a short time. Someone had to know. I wanted you to know why you were dying. Maybe even understand." He came closer to me, going so far as to crouch next to me. I tried to crawl backwards, but all I succeeded in doing was making my tongue bleed when I bit down to hide my cry of pain.

"It will be over soon, Rebecca." I hoped he was right, but not in that way. "Do you know that is exactly what I told my wife when the Dark Lord used this knife on her? This very knife. 'It will be over soon, Narcissa.' I told her that. And soon it will be. Likely for both of us. I will be killed for this. Narcissa is already dying. Draco may survive though, that is all that matters."

Blood was running from my tongue down my throat and I began to cough.

"Soon, Rebecca." He promised as he spun the knife between his fingers. I watched the light flicker off the blade and began to shake. "Let me tell you about this dagger. This is an ancient, sacrificial knife."

"Sacrifice?" I choked out.

He nodded. "You are a sacrifice, in a manner of speaking, but not in the way this knife was made to be used. You are a sacrifice for the better future of my child, not in the pursuit of Dark Magic. It's ironic isn't it? That the Dark Lord's greatest weapon will be struck down with such an evil instrument. It's been around for centuries you know."

I believed him. I could feel the evil emanating from the weapon. More blood than mine had been spilled by this knife, much more. There was old magic stored in it, old and evil and oozing. Lucius stopped spinning the blade. My reflection glinted back at me.

I lifted my gaze up and for the first time, my executioner met my eyes.

And suddenly I understood. I knew why Demichael had no affect on him, why he was doing this to me. He had no fear. He had overpowered his frailties with desperation and…love.

Love for Draco and for his wife had proved stronger than his fear for his life and of the Dark Lord. Love had lifted him up and made him more powerful than me.

"Truly, I apologize for bringing you into this. And for taking you back out. It is for the best."

I couldn't do anything. He was too sure, too strong. I was too lost in his eyes to even notice the knife behind rose over his head and then rush downward.

"Crucio!"

Lucius disappeared from my field of vision and his screams of pain filled my ears. Bella stood in the doorway, malice twisting every feature of her face as she poured her fury into the spell.

I tried to tell her to stop, but my mouth was full of blood and it came out in a spluttering cough.

Someone came behind her and she dropped her wand and came to me anyway. I glanced between her and Lucius as he crawled to his feet.

They both had the same defiant lack of fear. Both stemmed from some form of love. Love of family, love of a demi-god. Wasn't love supposed to be good? Didn't love conquer evil? How did evil people hold so much love? Both claimed to be right, but which was? If they had the same source why did they both conflict so much?

Lucius thought Bella was evil, representing a dark and terrible cause.

But he had tried to kill me.

What was Bella doing? Her wand was hovering over my stomach, healing it, saving my life. Wasn't that good?

Bella was holding me, switching off whispering softly in my ear and yelling at Lucius.

There was blood on everyone's hands.

Everyone was wrong.

Everyone was right.

I felt muddled, completely incapable of understanding the situation. My brain felt overloaded. I couldn't handle it. I let oblivion take over for me.

We're heading to the climax. We are nearing the bottom of the sheet of paper that represents the much ignored outline I wrote in the beginning.

I'm curious, what is everyone's take on my approach to Narcissa?

As always, review and let me know what I can improve.

Love,

-Elle