A/N: Hello All! This was a little drabble that kept nagging at me all day so here it is!
Trigger warning: mentions of blood, labour, and mentions childbirthing trauma
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
As always, enjoy!
Such A Shame
Narcissa Malfoy was a proud woman. Even after the war, she kept her head up high and she never allowed anyone disrespect her or her status. She and Lucius would sneer at anyone who would dare to look in their direction, hexing people out of their way if necessary.
That included her own son. If she could call him that anymore.
He had been thrown out of the manor the moment he refused the marriage contract with the oldest Greengrass girl. The last Narcissa or Lucius saw of their former heir in person was at Flourish and Blotts where he worked.
It was safe to say that they never set foot in that wretched store again.
Lucius had once deposited the Daily Prophet featuring the marriage between Draco and Hermione Granger into the fireplace. The fool had taken the mudblood's name. All hope of Narcissa and Lucius ever forgiving him had been lost to the Fiendfyre of Draco's betrayal.
That night, Lucius had formally disinherited him. The news spread, it wasn't everyday that the last scion of Malfoy and Black families was burned off the family tree.
It was such a shame that he would throw it all away for a harlot.
It was common place, like in all pureblood households, to never mention a blood-traitor once thew were scorched off the family tree. And in all honesty, Narcissa hadn't given a second thought about that boy since Lucius had sent in the paperwork to cut him off.
And after three years of living and spending the Malfoy money with Lucius to their heart content— after all, they would have no one to pass down the money to.
It was one morning, four years after, when Narcissa was taking a walk in the halls of St. Mungo's after a minor flying incident with Lucius when she spotted a familiar stock of blond hair.
It was Mr. Granger sitting with his head in his hands, hair fisted tightly, and rocking in his seat. Narcissa cast a quick notice-me-not before watching further. She watched as Mr. Granger's shoulders curled in as a familiar scream came from the closed door he sat across from.
Harry Potter happened to run right past Narcissa without a sidewards glance. The boy-who-lived ran straight to Mr. Granger hauling him up and pulling him in a soul crushing hug.
Narcissa moved closer.
"She'll be fine," Narcissa heard Potter whisper, "she'll be okay."
Another scream.
"What if she's not," Mr. Granger sobbed, "the healers warned us! She's going to die and it would be my fault."
Hope bloomed in Narcissa's chest.
Her heir might finally come home. That stupid boy.
The door opened, a healer covered in roughly scourgified crimson stepped out.
"Draco?" The healer Narcissa recognized as Luna Lovegood said.
Mr. Granger ripped himself away from Potter, "What is it? Is she okay? There was so much blood— I— I tried to get her here quickly—"
"— Draco," the healer said calmly. Lovegood stepped close and muttered something that Narcissa couldn't quite catch.
The blond man fell to his knees, taking great huffing breaths, gipping Lovegood's robes.
How undignified.
Potter wiped his eyes and pulled Mr. Granger to his feet leading him into the room. After a moment, Potter stepped out and talked to Lovegood.
Narcissa inched closer, and peaked into the room.
The Granger girl was in bed, Mr. Granger at her side holding a tiny infant with a blue cap in his calloused hands.
Narcissa watched the Granger girl. Her chest rose and she opened her eyes, a smile on her lips. Mr. Granger's eyes lit at the site of his disgusting wife whispering his name. He got closer to the mudblood and they whispered, to each other, the tears still falling down the blond man's cheeks.
Narcissa's lip curled in disgust.
It was unfortunate that she was alive. The youngest Greengrass daughter was still unwed and a halfblood infant would be easy enough to get rid of.
Narcissa turned away, her robes being pulled behind her with a flourish.
It was such a shame.