I'm sorry that this one is short, again. Suffering from immense writer's block which I'm going to have to push through because I need this story done before the 23rd July for personal reasons which I won't bore you with. Plus I wanted entirely Narcissa in this chapter, and I like where I ended it.

I hope you enjoy nonetheless.~

If Narcissa had any idea what she was doing, she was hiding it rather well from herself.

Being there in itself was entirely a compulsion. She needed to get away, to be alone. Where better than somewhere which was entirely out of bounds to students? Where better than the Forbidden Forest?

It had been early in the morning, barely 6a.m., when she made her way to the woods, and the castle had been still and silent as she walked through it. She was dressed only in a black skirt and a white blouse with her usual black shoes and white socks, for it had been a red sky the previous evening. It promised a sunny day. Her hair was down, pooling around her shoulders, and her wand was in the pocket of her skirt, which she had charmed to be overly long for it to fit snugly. It had been easy to get out of the castle, since she knew the exact place to tickle the huge oak front doors until they caved in and opened. She always thought it quite the security risk, but it was a little Slytherin secret and she would not be the one to tell anyone else.

The grass of the Hogwarts grounds had felt good under her feet as she walked, soft and covered in dew. She had been right, of course, about the weather, and a watery sun was blinking over the lake, upon the surface of which the Giant Squid was already sunbathing. The half-breed oaf was clearly awake, for the chimney of his ramshackle hut was expelling smoke as she passed it. Narcissa considered that it was either that or that there was a fire in his house, which would be no great loss, really. Her head felt clear, and she felt a sense of freedom for the first time in a long time. She felt like she knew what she was doing, and that she was in control, and everything would work out how she wanted it.

Now that she found herself in the forest, however, it was not seeming such an intelligent decision. She had just planned to stay at the thinnest part of the forest, where the trees were relatively sparse and she could see the half-breed oaf's hut and the castle looming not too far away, but she had soon become bored. She had spent over an hour, at least, throwing stones and kicking leaves, sitting down against tree trunks and huffing overly loudly in order to try and attract some attention, but none came. Seemingly no one had been missing her at all and no one was going to come for her.

Bastards.

It had been that point that she moodily rose from sitting among the spindly, thinly populated part of the forest and had wandered a little further in. If anyone did come for her, she figured, it would make it harder for them to find her, which they deserved for making her wait, and she could also find something to satiate her boredom for a while.

She sighed as she wandered aimlessly through the forest, pretending to pay attention to where she was going. She was lost in thoughts of everything that had happened over the past few months, and so didn't really notice exactly how far in she was trudging. The sun had disappeared behind a blanket of thick black clouds sometime previous, and it began to get steadily darker as she made her way further in. She had to concentrate on the ground a lot more due to the gnarled, grabbing tree roots which threatened to trip her and send her tumbling down one of the steep hills in the forest. It wasn't too bad, for it stopped her contemplating on marriage arrangements and screaming children.

"Lumos," she murmured after removing her wand from the pocket of her skirt. She had only spent a short time walking, barely half an hour she would guess though she didn't have the means to tell, but still she needed some form of light to fully distinguish the general gloom from figures of trees. She noticed, as soon as the surrounding area lit up from the glow at the tip of her wand, that quite a few trees near her had deep marks in them, as though some animal had torn their claws through the bark. On a tentative closer inspection there seemed to be a dark liquid mixing in with the dried sap of the wounded trees which looked far too much like blood.

Frightened, Narcissa turned and began to move more quickly in a different direction, planning to double back on herself. Whatever made those marks she most certainly did not want to meet.

Narcissa was not an unintelligent girl, so she knew that what she was doing was utterly stupid. She knew it was merely a plea for help, and for attention, to make someone listen, but it seemed the best way to get what she wanted. No one else, otherwise, seemed to even regard that she had feelings anymore. Maybe if she just worried a few people they would pay some attention to her. That was all that she wanted.

Or was it? Often she found herself crowded by people asking her questions. More often than not she wanted to scream at everyone to just shut up and leave her alone, before going to bed and crying into her pillow. She needed to be alone, she needed some place quiet and dark to be left to her thoughts away from everyone, from their scrutinizing eyes and quiet breathing and prying questions.

Perhaps she just wanted to get herself killed. That was the only reasonable explanation she could come up with for her actions. She had heard stories about the Forbidden Forest, and why it was named such, so why was she in there? Why had she even considered it? Even as she wandered quickly through the trees, looking over her shoulder every so often and listening hard to make sure no one else's footsteps were matching her own, she felt eyes on her. A million eyes, all watching her at once. Every movement of something around her made her cry out, every sound of some animal not too far away sent a shudder up her back.

She tried to double back on herself, only to find that the forest seemed to be getting thicker and darker still, until she had to stoop down to find a safe path with the light of her wand. She knew that she should stop and shout for help, but the thought of attracting anything other than a friend caused her mouth to remain still and noiseless, save for the soft rhythm of her breathing at her frantic pace through the trees. She was scared.

Forcibly, as a way to calm her down a little more than anything, she thought back to her mother's bedtime stories. Hansel and Gretel instantly came to mind. A little witch and wizard with their wands snapped, driven into the woods to die. Sounded about right. Except she didn't have pebbles, breadcrumbs or a magnificent swan to lead her back home. Nor did she have a Hansel. Her only comfort was that she doubted any Malicious Muggles lived in houses of shortbread and sweets in the Forbidden Forest. What did lurk in the forest, however, she was soon to find out was almost infinitely worse.

When the forest began to thin somewhat, Narcissa felt quite elated. She was convinced she was going the right way and relief bloomed in her chest – she wondered if she would make it back to the castle in time for breakfast still – until she realised that it was not the castle she could see, but merely a clearing between the trees. She could hear soft noises, gentle breaths which weren't her own, from her place within the trunks, and curiosity got the better of her. She approached slowly and whispered, "Nox," for there were breaks in the trees above which shed just a little light into the clearing, illuminating the creatures within.

There were about five or six, though Narcissa couldn't bring herself to count. They were huge, about the size of horses. They resembled a horse too, if said horse had just been plunged into the fires of Hell. They were skeletal, fleshless, each bone protruding through their glossy, translucid skin. Narcissa was sure she could even see the pounding of one of their hearts through its rib cage, for there was a definite lump in its chest regularly appearing and disappearing. They had manes of luscious black hair, long tails which were likewise, causing Narcissa to forcibly think of how hair keeps on growing after death. There was a definite smell of rotting about them, after all, though she wasn't so sure that that was coming from the creatures.

On closer inspection, as she peered around a tree to look more closely at the creatures, they were crowded around the carcass of something rather large. In horror she watched the horse-things tear strips of flesh from the carcass with their teeth – not teeth. Fangs. Sharp, vicious fangs. – and eat them with dull snorts and flicks of their somewhat dragonish heads. She felt physically sick, but could not seem to take her eyes from them. Why had she never seen them before? Why had she never learnt of them before? Surely if there were demonic, carnivorous horses living in the grounds of Hogwarts the students should have been informed.

She was soon torn from thoughts of improper enlightenment from Professor Dumbledore about the Forbidden Forest, however, for there were much more pressing matters at hand. The horse-things, seemingly alerted to her presence by some godly force which didn't like her very much, stopped consuming their meal to stare up at her. All of them. They snorted, made harsh grating sounds through their bared teeth and stared at her with expressionless, pupiless eyes.

There was a moment in which Narcissa was sure that her heart stopped, and she stared back at the creatures, trying to focus on them all at once. Then she ran.

She shut her eyes as she sprinted away, to stem the flow of petrified tears which threatened to flood down her face. Her breath was ragged and shallow, her limbs pumping hard in order to keep her running. She was sure that she could hear the thunder of hooves behind her, devilish steeds about to reign down on her, trampling her, biting her. It was only when she fell over a particularly obtrusive tree root, landing hard on the ground, that she stopped. She braced herself, waiting for a death that didn't come.

One second. Two second. Three seconds.

All was silent.

"L-lumos," Narcissa whispered into the darkness. There was nothing but trees. No horses, no wide, white eyes, no reptilian bodies. All was still, and all was quiet.

Breathing heavily and wiping her bloodied hands on her skirt, Narcissa inched her way back towards a large tree. She sat against it, pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, embracing her shins tightly and burying her face into her knees, trying not to cry.

She couldn't help but think of the time she had spent with her family in Kielder Forest, in Northumberland, one summer. She was too young to remember how old she was, or exactly what had happened, but she remembered yanking her hand away from her mother's grip while she was busy, stopping Bellatrix from throttling Andromeda, and running off into the trees. She had been laughing, she remembered that, thinking it was all a very fun game. She remembered swirls of green and yellow and brown and rushing sounds and the snapping of twigs and an overly warm wind which carried with it the humidity that threatened to frizz Narcissa's perfectly styled hair. She remembered not paying attention to where she was going, pumping her little arms and legs as fast as they would go while lifting the skirts of her dress like a proper lady, and running so far that she could no longer hear her mother's shouts. She remembered the exact moment when she stopped laughing and the panic set in, tears welling up in her wide, innocent eyes as she searched frantically for her mother. She had sat down there, knees up to her chest and arms around her legs, sobbing until her mother found her over an hour later. She had been dirtied, scratched by tree branches, and there had been a huge tear in her dress which she was scolded for, but the attention and affection which was lavished upon her that evening was well worth it.

She pulled her legs closer to her chest, burying her face into her knees just as she had done that day. Even Bellatrix had hugged her that night. Granted, it was very brief, one-armed and when she pulled away she merely stalked off like she had tasted something particularly disdainful, but it was an embrace nonetheless. How she wished she could have the embrace of her sisters at that moment. Just a swift one from Bella, or one of Andy's long, loving cuddles which always left Narcissa sure that she was adopted, because there was no way she learnt that from their parents or any other member of their family, for that matter.

Or her mother. Yes, her mother. To be held by her mother would be lovely, like she had been on that day so long ago in Kielder Forest once she had been found. It was so close, so warm, that Narcissa never wanted to be let go. She remembered her mother's heartbeat as she was wrapped up in a cloak and lifted to Druella's chest, being called a silly girl over and over in a voice which was trying so hard to contain sobs of relief and fright.

Oh, she wanted her mother. She had been afraid to admit it over the passing months, for she was a woman, and women did not seek comfort from their parents because they could handle themselves and a husband and children and a house and they still had time to look beautiful. But she admitted it to herself now. She wanted the smell of her mother's perfume beside her as she began to drift to sleep, she wanted to feel her mother's fingers stroke her face and tell her what a beautiful young woman she would make one day, she wanted her mother's cooking, the hearty smells of whatever Druella decided on a whim to begin making that morning and the clanging of pots and pans which signified to the rest of the house that it was not, as always, going quite as planned. Hell, she'd even put up with her mother forcing her into puffy-sleeved ball gowns and evening dresses which made her look infinitely more like the doll she already resembled. She wanted her mother's stern words when she pushed the food on her plate around or folded her arms defiantly in the build-up to a tantrum. She wanted her mother's arms around her, to protect her from the nightmares which should have been Professor Malfoy's.

Ah. Yes. Professor Malfoy. Somehow, in some way, her thoughts always managed to return to him. Unsurprising really, since he had been the one to ruin everything, in more ways than one. He had taken her, stripped her of any chance to wear white on her wedding day, and he had destroyed her under the intensity of his crimes. He had killed. Yet why did she feel the need to protect him from Professor Dumbledore and from Azkaban? That was probably what scared her most. She knew what he had done, and she knew that he could still look Samuel in the eyes, thus she knew exactly how emotionless, how brutal he was. So why, why, did she still have to convince herself that she didn't want the feel of his hands upon her again? Why did she have to tell herself that, no, she definitely didn't want to hear the deep rumble of masculine thunder in his every word, which seemed to get even stronger when they were in one of their all too frequent acts of passion? Why did she have to tell herself that she didn't want the undeniable power and definite prowess of his authoritative touch, his dominating demeanour?

Why did she have to tell herself she wasn't his?

Narcissa absently touched the overly large wedding band around her finger. No, she wasn't Professor Malfoy's. She was Tobias Crowley's. She was destined to be his. To have and to hold until death do them part.

She still didn't know how she felt about Crowley. To have his engagement ring on her finger was a type of comfort, for she knew at least part of her life was planned. She knew that, at some point, the nightmares would go and she would forget all about Professor Malfoy and the crimes he had committed. But she knew, also, that he did not feel much for her, if anything. His embraces were merely putting his arm around her waist as he paraded her down corridors or around the common room. Objectifying her. He was showing her, and everyone in the vicinity, whose she was. He was challenging other potential males who may want her. She hated it. She hated the way he kissed her cheek so politely around other people, yet behind closed doors he was so persistent in getting her to allow him to part her legs. The only thing stopping him was the fact he still thought her a virgin.

Narcissa laughed bitterly into her knees. At least Andromeda and Rodolphus could keep their mouths shut. If Bellatrix knew then no doubt Crowley would within a few minutes, and they would both tear Professor Malfoy apart. Worse than that though; if Bellatrix knew, their parents would no doubt know within a few minutes too. There wouldn't be a part of Professor Malfoy left big enough to need a coffin. She squeezed her legs hard.

She knew it was wrong, her and her teacher. She knew the ways in which she thought about him were wrong. But the way Professor Malfoy kissed her was so much more… What was the word for it? Beautiful? Acceptable? Narcissa let out a derisive laugh. No, that definitely wasn't it. It was… unpretentious. He didn't try to mask his desire for her when they were alone. It was open, so much more than the cold, reclusive teacher that everyone else seemed to know. She could tell in the way he held her, wrapped his arms securely around her, that he did not think of her as a possession. She could tell in the way he spoke to her, even in the conversations they had which definitely were not on the school curriculum, about Mudbloods and politics and particularly annoying members of each other's families, that he thought of her as equally intelligent to him, and as a perfectly capable human being. Yes. Unpretentious. That would do.

Another derisive laugh. No one else in the free world would use 'unpretentious' to describe Professor Malfoy. He was getting to her head. She really would have to stop-

Then she heard it. The snapping of twigs. Narcissa tensed immediately, her head lifting up from her knees. She listened hard, eyes searching around the gloom in order to locate the cause of the noise. She raised her wand, casting the light further around. She could see nothing.

Heart pounding, mouth suddenly very dry and every nerve on end, Narcissa pressed herself up against the tree behind her, so not to be approached from behind. She held her wand tightly, breathing harsh and shallow. She clamped her free hand over her mouth so not to attract anymore attention to herself, eyes welling with frightened tears. And then she heard voices, carrying towards her.

"…never find her in 'ere, y'know," said one voice, becoming steadily clearer. Seemingly the owners were moving towards her, which she clarified by the sounds of their footfalls which crackled on dead leaves. They were behind her somewhere, on the opposite side of the tree against which she sat.

"If not, then I'm sure I can find another suitor," came a second voice, and Narcissa recognised it instantly as the sardonic drawl of Crowley. He sounded annoyed. "There's plenty more where she came from."

For a moment Narcissa was confused. They can't be talking about me, she thought. They sounded completely unconcerned. But then again. "Nox," she whispered, and the light went out. She would not yet alert them to her presence.

"Why're you so bothered 'bout her then?" said the first voice, which Narcissa now recognised as William Nott's. Any idea she had of getting up and running to Crowley's side were soon lost to the wind, for to be in the Forbidden Forest with the son of a Death Eater – a Death Eater who had played a part in killing the Bones – didn't seem to be the best idea to her. She had made it her business to look at him as little as possible over the past three months, and was quite content in continuing this.

Oh but to be taught by a Death Eater, and allow others to be taught by him, is perfectly acceptable?

Shut up.

They were definitely coming closer, for Narcissa could hear either Crowley or Nott kicking the debris which littered the forest floor moodily. "Because if I find her now I may get lucky. Y'know, being the big saviour and all."

Nott snorted. "Is she still not giving it up?"

"No. I've told you, man, she's frigid."

"Then why did you write that letter to your parents? The whole 'we are to be married as soon as I graduate, I want her'. I thought you'd already done it with her for her to make you so… frantic over her."

"Because I do want her," Crowley sighed, exasperatedly. He sounded as though he was directly behind the tree which Narcissa was hiding behind. "She's hot, in case you haven't noticed. I thought that getting the arrangement done this early would loosen her up a bit, but no."

Nott, again, snorted. "What if she's the same when you're married?"

"Mistresses," Crowley said, as though automatically, "and even if she's not the same there'll be mistresses."

Narcissa heard them both laugh. She drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'm sure Mag wouldn't mind sharing you with her," Nott agreed.

"Margarethe wouldn't mind sharing anyone with anyone," Crowley replied. Narcissa could tell he was smirking. "Good thing too, 'cause if I've waited this long and Black turns out to be rubbish between the sheets I'll need a consolation prize."

Nott made a noise of agreement, before one of them yawned loudly. "C'mon," muttered Nott, "let's go back to the castle. She could be anywhere and m'hungry. If anyone'll find her it'll be Dumbledore."

For a moment there was silence. Then Crowley shouted, "Cissa!" His voice rang around the trees, bouncing off them until it was surrounding Narcissa. She thought, for a moment, that he had found her, that he was looming right over her shoulder, until he said, "Yeah, you're right. She'll come back when she's bored of playing these stupid games."

She heard them lumbering away, trudging obnoxiously loudly through the leaves, and heard Crowley say as they retreated, "I hope there's sausages left."

Narcissa waited until their footsteps faded into nothingness. Then she pushed herself up and ran off in the opposite direction to them, wiping a tear defiantly from her eye which threatened to spill out onto her cheek. She would not cry for Crowley, not for that scumbag. She knew that he didn't love her, and never would, but to already be planning his mistresses was certainly a kick in the proverbial teeth.

What did Margarethe have that she didn't? Other than a tan, bigger breasts and less dignity. She was barely even attractive, she just let people in between her thighs far too often. If that was what males found attractive, Narcissa was quite thankful that only Professor Malfoy seemed to think her beautiful.

"Beautiful, elegant. I find you rather charming."

She continued running, wanting to put as much distance between her and Crowley as possible. He was scum, and he didn't deserve her hand or any other part of her in marriage. She had no idea what she was doing but she was too furious to stop. She knew it was dangerous, that she didn't know where she was going, but she really didn't care. Branches snagged her clothing as she ran, tearing at her skirt and blouse until they were near enough just tatters, but she didn't really care. She felt trees clawing at her loose hair and wished that she'd tied it up, but was far too busy running to charm it up now. She wasn't paying attention to where she was going, twisting around this tree and turning around that one. Even when she realised that she was somewhere very dark and very cold she didn't stop. The perspiration which clung to her body from running cooled almost immediately, and she felt her breath rise in front of her even though she couldn't see it. She could barely see her hand in front of her face, yet still she ran.
The ground began to get slippery, the mud beneath her feet shifting every time she put her weight down onto the ground. More than once she stumbled, cried out and just about managed to get her balance. She would not allow Crowley to think that she had returned for him. She would not give him the satisfaction. No, no, she was going to run as far away from him as she could, and leave the forest when she was ready. She would prove him wrong. She would not give him the satisfaction.

She would show him that she didn't need him. That she could get lost and rescue herself all on her own. She didn't need anyone! She was strong, and independent, and she didn't need her mother or father or a suitor or Professor Malfoy or-

She stumbled. She found that there was nothing under her foot to regain her footing. There was the plummeting feeling of missing a stair in the dark, and then she began to fall.

Clutching her wand tightly to her chest, Narcissa screamed as she hit the ground and didn't stop moving. Her foot hit ground first, though she thought there was none, and she heard something crack before she crumpled. She was falling down a steep incline, limbs splaying out uncontrollably, mud and dirt and rocks smacking into her as she rolled downwards. She tried to claw onto something to hold and stop herself, but all she felt was mud sliding out from under her hands and leaves shifting beneath her, adding momentum. She felt herself growing dizzy, felt her clothes becoming wet as the socking mud beneath her wept into her blouse. Please, please, let it stop.

When she finally halted it was with a loud thud which reverberated through her body. She was instantly winded at the impact and fought for breath. She felt like someone had let Crabbe and Goyle on her. Her every muscle ached, and she could already feel bruises blossoming over her skin. Her left leg felt completely numb. There was a dull thudding at the side of her head where she guessed she had been struck by more than one rock on her fall. As she cautiously unfolded her arms she raised a hand to the side of her head. It was damp with blood, congealing with mud in her hair which was sticking to her face. Tears sprung to her eyes, a combination of fear and pain.

"L-lumos," Narcissa whispered, and held her wand as high as her aching arm would allow. It was pitch black around her. Narcissa could see nothing but trees, pressing in on every side. Foreboding, gnarled creatures stretching up endlessly, branches locked in battles for dominance on their fight to the sky. No light at all penetrated the canopy under which she lay, and, despite the glow at the tip of her wand, she could barely distinguish dark shapes of the trees from their shadows. There was still snow on the ground, despite the fact that it had all melted in mid-January, which gave Narcissa an indication of how little light this part of the forest saw. The thought of the dark creatures which could inhabit this part, watching her right now with their wide eyes, perfectly adapted to seek prey in the dark, petrified her, so she set to analysing her own body.

She was caked head to foot in mud from the steep incline which she had fallen down. Looking up at it she saw it was nearly completely vertical, and at least twenty feet or so high. There was little injury on herself, save for the numerous scars, cuts and bruises which littered her body, except for her leg. Her ankle was at an odd angle, and, on trying to move it, she found pain too intense for her to handle. She screamed out before she could stop herself, clamping her hand over her mouth. There was no way she could make it back up the hill, or even move. She was trapped.

She bit her lip to stop herself crying. It was her own fault. She should have let Crowley know that she was there. He'd found her. And then she should have thanked him for being her saviour however he wanted. Such was the ladylike way, and such was the way she should have taken when she had the chance. She was being punished now, punished for not being the trophy wife she was meant to be. The chance of her being found now were close to zero. She was going to die. Die, cold and alone.

And it was all her fault.

Far, far above her, she heard the pounding of rain on the canopy. Heavy rain, heavier than she had known for a fair few months. It was so strong, slamming down in icy sheets, that it began to penetrate the leaves which formed her only blanket of protection from the elements. It began to pat softly on her face, like kisses, until it became too strong for the trees to maintain. The rain poured down on her motionless body relentlessly.

It was meant to have been a sunny day. It was meant to have been bright and warm and lovely. The pathetic fallacy was unwelcome. "Why do you defy me?" she whispered upwards.

She absently thought about bright sides to this. At least she could open her mouth for some form of liquid sustenance. At least the rain was softening the mud around her, making her marginally more comfortable. At least that way she could pretend it was just water on her face rather than the tears of fear which streamed from the corners of her eyes. At least if she died there, cold and alone, she would not have to ever be Mrs. Narcissa Crowley.

"Help," she whimpered softly.

Narcissa completely lost track of how long she had been lying there. The darkness of the forest gave no indication of time, and she was sure that what were minutes were stretching on for hours. She could have been there a few seconds, or until the end of time, she really didn't know. All that she knew was that she was hungry. She was thirsty. Her voice was hoarse from shouting and screaming, for she grew to no longer care about attracting possible predators. Hell, she would have welcomed a swift demise. Her leg was no longer numb, and the pain from her ankle was nearly blinding her. She kept falling asleep, whether into a pain-induced slumber, out of boredom or from the rhythm of her bodily clock, and when she awoke she always wished that she was still asleep. Even the nightmares of being chased by snakes was more welcome than this. At least in dreams she could actually run and nothing hurt.

"'Midway along the journey of our life'," Narcissa found herself reciting weakly, over and over again to entertain herself in the hellish minutes of consciousness, "'I woke to find myself in a dark wood, for I had wandered off from the straight path'." She didn't know why she had taken to murmuring what she could remember of The Divine Comedy, but it was something of a comfort. To remember Professor Malfoy's neat, elaborate handwriting as she read between the beautifully warm sheets of her four-poster, completely oblivious to anyone else, was soothing in this dark place in which she found herself. To remember Professor Malfoy at all was a comfort.

She wondered over and over if she would ever see him again. Not a thought in her head went to Crowley, nor to her sisters, nor to her mother or father. She thought completely and utterly of Professor Malfoy. She imagined him there with her, cradling her in his arm and whispering words of security as he picked her up and returned her to the castle. She imagined the beating of his heart as she lay next to him on his bed after an act of beautiful sin. She imagined the touch of his skin on hers, the taste of his mouth as he kissed her. She imagined being had and held by him.

Her tears renewed.

She soon gave up hope. Gave up shouting and gave up any chance of being found. She was lost, unnoticed, and no one was going to come to her aid. Professor Dumbledore was supposed to be searching for her, was he not? And even he had not found her. Maybe her father was right. Maybe he was just a Muggle-loving old coot who was getting too old for his name. Maybe she was going to die.

This thought plagued her endlessly. Maybe she was going to die. Perhaps she already was dead. Perhaps this was her punishment for being a bad fiancée. To lie forever, unremembered and unloved in this cold, dark, desolate place. She was deserving of it, so why not?

But wait. It didn't seem so…dark anymore. Narcissa squinted, for everywhere around her seemed to be suddenly bathed in light, and she was fairly sure that was not because of her wand which barely even had a glow anymore due to her lack of energy. No, the light was coming from another source. She tried her hardest to concentrate, to locate the cause. When her eyes found it she didn't believe them.

Perhaps she had been thinking too much about Hansel and Gretel, for what appeared to be a bird shone brightly before her. It looked like a gigantic swan, like the one which gave Hansel and Gretel passage back home with the Muggle's treasure. It moved towards her, glided, as though the ground was water. It spread its great wings, raised its noble neck and crooned long, low note which Narcissa had never heard from a swan before. It was like a song. How ironic, Narcissa pondered, with a miniscule smile. I cannot perform a swan song, so I get a literal one before I die. But then again…

"Am I dead already?" she wondered aloud in a cracked, hoarse whisper. The swan bent its elegant neck, moving closer and illuminating the area in which Narcissa lay. She could make out the gentle line of the swan's beak, the shape of its head and the deep grey of its eyes. She tried to reach up, desperate to touch its head, knowing that if she did she would be saved and all would be well. "Do people like me go to heaven?" she whispered, believing without a doubt that it was there to wing her to her judgement.

It was the only explanation. No swan lived in the Forbidden Forest. Indeed, no swan had ever shone so brightly, especially in such a dark place. No swan had ever looked so elegant, so beautiful. If that was the last thing she was to see in life, then she was grateful.

The swan leant in and touched Narcissa's hand. Warmth immediately spread through her. If this is death, it doesn't hurt, she wondered mildly. Her vision was failing, becoming darker at the corners of her sight and more blurry, until the swan was merely a bright light in the encroaching darkness. She was growing numb. How wonderful.

She was sure she heard noises, somewhere far away, shouting things she didn't understand. All light had gone and she could see no more. She was certain, so certain, that she heard the words, "You silly girl," so very close, but all was dark, and all was gone, and all was beautiful.

She allowed herself to succumb, and all fell silent.

As always, thank you for reading thus far.

If you enjoyed, please review. My regular reviewers really make it all worth it, and I find myself motivated even through my writer's block. This chapter would have probably taken another week without you guys, so thank you and please don't stop if you don't want me to. c: