Quidditch League | Holyhead Harpies | Captain | R6 | SeverusNarcissa
Words: 2,622
Thank you, MissyAndTheDocs and gingerdreams for beta-ing this mess!
Warning: erm, mentions of death and funeral stuff... but nothting to actually worry about, I think...
...
what if you told my lies?
...
Narcissa's legs trembled, her hands shook, and her heart beat at twice the normal rate. Taking one step after another, she walked across the shattered bricks and stones that now foretold the ruined state of the once so beautiful castle. The grounds were covered in dirt and ashes and, apart from the freezing cold morning breeze that twirled the dust up once in a while, she was surrounded by a deadly silence. The yard she crossed resembled a graveyard rather than a school garden – in more ways than one.
A cold shiver ran down her spine as her thoughts wandered for a moment and images of her sister and the potions master flashed before her eyes. Bellatrix' last ghastly cackle still rang in her ears and Narcissa relived the moments where her sister's dark eyes had widened in surprise, shock and fear when the deadly spell hit her squarely in the chest…
Narcissa shook her head – trying to get rid of the pictures she knew would haunt her for the rest of her life.
The cold silence that surrounded her echoed louder than a thousand words ever could. The melancholy she felt riffled through her and, once more, she wondered if it was the right idea to return to Hogwarts. She had fled the battlefield – like a bloody coward – while everyone else was fighting. On top of that, Narcissa knew that she wouldn't be welcome. Her loyalties had been aligned with the Dark afterall. The only one who knew where her true alliances lay was the Potter boy… and she hoped that he would remember what she had done in the forest. She needed their mercy to be allowed to carry out the task she had come here for – despite the angry glares and hateful words she was sure to receive from all the other survivors.
When she had finally reached the once so majestic looking doors, Narcissa took one last calming breath – bracing herself for what lay ahead – before she gathered what was left of her courage and entered the Great Hall.
A wave of pain and grief immediately washed over her. The faint smell of death and destruction still lingered in the air, making her stomach twist. For a moment, Narcissa was grateful that the crowd of people waiting ahead had not yet taken notice of her – they all listened, spellbound in trance, to what the Headmistress said. The older woman stood as strong and mighty as ever, behind the golden podium, with Potter by her side like a shadow.
Narcissa, however, only listened half-heartedly, too distracted by the amount of damage the school had endured. The ceiling had lost its enchantment, bricks fell out of the wall and windows hang loosely in their frames – broken and shattered by several spells during the recent battle. Nothing reminded her of the once so magical and mesmerizing place she had known and loved during her own years at Hogwarts.
When she finally heard Severus' name, she straightened her composure, lifted her head, and raised her voice.
"I'll tend to Severus," she heard herself speak, but despite her best efforts, her voice sounded hoarse, rusty, and small. Nevertheless, the hall got so quiet one could hear a single pin drop to the marble floor. "I owe it to him."
As she had expected, the moment of silence lasted only so long as the gathered crowd of witches and wizards turned around sharply. A collective gasp echoed through the hall, followed by a mess of words that ranged from statements of surprise, to disgust and insults when realisation dawned upon them as to whom the strange and unfamiliar voice belonged to.
Sneers and outbursts of "What is she doing here?", "Death Eater!", and "How dare she show her rotten face here?" were sufficiently shut down by a loud "Silence!" from the Headmistress.
Immediately, the hall quietened down and all that was heard were the occasional angry intakes of breath.
"I'll take care of Severus' body," Narcissa repeated, and her hollow voice echoed through the tongue-tied hall. "And Bellatrix," she added with a malicious gloat, and an involuntary cackle escaped her. "Seeing that the lot of you would rather sweep the dungeons than coming anywhere close to her anyway."
Angry and appalled voices roared up once more, but Narcissa couldn't care less. The fear she had felt earlier had vanished and turned into apathy and indifference. Of course, she knew what these people thought of and felt about Bellatrix, but nonetheless, she was her sister – and a Black by birthright – and thus had the right to be buried as such in the old family crypt. And, Severus had always been her friend – he deserved just as much.
With her hands clenched into fists, and her head held high, the witch was about to fire back a nasty reply, when her eyes suddenly met Potter's – icy blue against sparkling green – and time stood still as a silent conversation took place between them, before the young man gave a short, but decisive nod.
The boy had remembered. Just as she had hoped he would. Grateful, Narcissa bowed her head ever-so-slightly and without another word, the witch ignored the wave of insults that was targeted towards her, turned around sharply on her black heels and exited the Hall, slamming the doors shut behind her.
…
Narcissa had tended to Bellatrix — too quickly for her liking and unable to mourn her properly. She swept up Bellatrix's recently incendio'ed ashes carefully filled into an elegant and ancient silver urn. She'd perform the proper pureblood rituals for her sister's burial later on. As now, however, Severus was at the centre of her thoughts. His role as a double agent aside, the man had always been her closest friend. He'd also been true to his promise — his vow— and kept Draco out of harm's way.
The witch had always feared the end of the war, due to the very likely possibility that she'd eventually have to live under the Dark Lord's gory regime. Deep down, Narcissa was grateful for what Severus had accomplished, for without him, the Dark Lord would have won the war. But the price her friend had had to pay was simply too high.
A wave of regret washed through her when she realised that she hadn't had the chance to properly thank Severus for his deeds and she took a deep breath to steady herself before she opened the door to the Shack.
At the sight of his lifeless body at the far back of the room, along with the splashes of blood that were scattered right on the wall behind him, Narcissa felt nauseous, and her legs almost didn't carry her further.
The closer she came to Severus' form, the more difficulty she had with keeping her blue eyes from filling with tears. With her head lowered in respect, she kneeled down, right next to her old friend and couldn't help but let the tears fall. His eyes were closed and, for a moment, it looked as if he were sleeping. But his face, which had always been rather pale, now looked ashen and cold.
"Oh Severus," she whispered, reaching up to brush the tears that had rolled down her cheeks away before gently taking his hand into hers and squeezing it softly. "I never even got the chance to say good-bye."
Eventually, Narcissa took another deep breath. With her left hand still holding his, she used her right one to retrieve her wand from her robe, conjured another slytherin-green urn out of thin air before she pointed it straight at her old friend – ready to cast her final incendio.
However, when she was about to whisper the incantation through her tears, she felt a small, barely there squeeze on her left hand. When she looked down, her blue eyes widened in astonishment.
…
The next few moments blurred together in a flurry of action. Upon realizing that his fingers had actually moved, Narcissa's brain went into hyperdrive. She checked his pulse, which wasn't at all easy since Nagini had done quite the number on his throat. After what felt like an eternity, she noticed the almost undetectable and utterly arrhythmic thumb thumb of his heart.
Flummoxed, she had cast all the first-aid healing charms that came to mind and tended to his wounds as best as she could. She had no idea how much time she spent with him, but she soon noticed the sun rising and the day beginning.
She had no idea what to do next. Severus was alive and she needed to get him away from this place. Thus, another split-second decision later, she had made up her mind and sent a prayer to Merlin and Morgana that her plan would work.
Taking one last breath and biting her lip nervously, Narcissa held onto Severus as tightly as she possibly could and apparated them away.
…
Apparently, Merlin had listened, and while the situation was touch and go for a long while, Severus had survived the trip to his home in Spinner's End.
He was now tucked in his own bed, with his covers drawn up to his chest and several heating charms cast upon him. Rummaging through his properly stocked cabinets, Narcissa found what she had been looking for and rubbed some healing ointment on the gash at his throat.
When she had exhausted all the resources she could possibly think of, she leaned back against the armchair that stood next to his bed and took a moment to watch him. He still looked scarily pale but nevertheless, the slight, but steady rising and falling of his chest gave her hope.
"You'll get through this, Severus," she whispered, squeezing his hand once more. "Hang in there."
…
It had taken him four days to gain consciousness and Narcissa hadn't left his side once. She had owled her son and husband, telling them that she needed some time alone to properly grieve for her sister - which wasn't a lie. However, she felt that she needed to give Severus some privacy so he would be able to recover in peace. She kept the curtains closed, and lights dimmed, just in case, and cast a couple of spells on the green armchair to make it a bit more comfortable for her to spend her time.
When Severus finally opened his eyes, Narcissa awoke from her slight slumber with a start.
"Wh-where am I?" he asked, his voice hoarse and tired.
Narcissa sighed with relief, attempting to get her rapidly beating heart under control. "You're home, Sev. You're safe."
He tried to push himself up in his bed, but his arms immediately gave up on him. Narcissa rushed forward and carefully propped up a pillow behind his back so he could sit a bit more upright.
"What do you remember, Sev?" she asked, concern shimmering in her blue eyes.
Obviously still in pain, the potions master cringed when he moved his hand towards his bandaged throat. "The Dark Lord summoned me… and… then Nagini – " His voice broke.
Subconsciously, the witch reached out and squeezed his hand. "She left your throat with quite a lot of damage. Potter said you were dead," she added with a whisper.
Severus gave a snort. "Felt like it, too."
A moment of silence passed before he slightly turned his head and a thankful expression appeared on his face. "Thanks, Cissa."
"No need to thank me, Sev," she said, a small smile playing around her lips. "You were quite lucky, you know. If you hadn't squeezed my hand, I would have turned you into a pile of ashes."
His black eyes widened. "Excuse me?" he choked.
Narcissa shrugged, conjured a glass of water and handed it to him. "Like I said, everybody thought you were dead."
"That's what I get for working as a spy…" he grumbled.
Narcissa was quiet for a moment, then she waved her wand and summoned a letter – the Hogwarts crest elegantly printed at the top. "Actually, you're a hero, Sev," she said and passed him the letter. "I believe Potter has arranged for you to be buried on the Hogwarts grounds."
Severus didn't reply. All he did was stare at the letter written in Minerva's trademark emerald ink. "So, they still think I'm dead," he said, emotionless.
Narcissa rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I had other things on my mind the last couple of days, Sev. I was more concerned with keeping you alive than cancelling your funeral. I hadn't even had the time to bury my sister," she mocked and gestured half-heartedly to Bellatrix' urn, which she had placed at the far end of the room on top of the bookshelf.
Severus winced. "Bellatrix is dead?"
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
"It's alright," she sighed. "I just had to get her away from Hogwarts. I know she wouldn't have wanted to stay there."
"I doubt she'd be happy to remain on my bookshelf," he pointed out, eyebrow raised, but with a small smirk playing around his pale lips.
Narcissa rolled her eyes and playfully nudged him. "I'll take her to the family crypt, you idiot," she answered, although her eyes were twinkling. "But first I need to deal with your funeral."
Severus shifted uncomfortably on the bed. She noticed how he nervously played with his fingers and it took some time before he looked up to meet her eyes. "Actually… about that…"
… some time later…
Narcissa had watched the scene unfold from a distance. The black marble tomb was strangely fitting, and almost everybody attending had bowed their heads in respect. Some even left a dark rose on the elegant ebony coffin. Narcissa, however, knew that she still wouldn't be welcome, not enough time had passed, and she figured that it would take some time to mend the bridges that had been burned during the war. Besides, she was the only one who knew that the coffin they had just lowered into the tomb was empty. There was no need to get any closer to mourn the couple of rocks she had placed inside.
She sighed. When Severus had first suggested the idea, she had laughed at him. Soon, however, she realized that he was serious about the whole thing, and, upon seeing the pain that was written in his eyes and the way he had begged her to go along with it, she had agreed to keep his secret. He had been willing to sacrifice his own life to restore peace— the least he deserved was a fresh start and this was too good an opportunity to pass.
She had watched the service. It was beautiful, and the speech Potter gave made her eyes fill with tears. She continued watching in silence when she felt a dark-cloaked figure approaching her. Narcissa couldn't quite help but sigh and roll her eyes.
"You shouldn't be here, Sev."
He turned and slightly lifted the dark hood that covered most of his face. "Well, I couldn't miss my own funeral now, could I?"
Once more, she rolled her blue eyes.
"And I wanted to say good-bye," he added quietly. "And thank you."
Narcissa turned her head. Their eyes met and she was slightly taken aback by the gratefulness she found written in his black orbs. "You're welcome, Sev. Just make sure to take care of yourself...wherever you will go. And drop me a letter every once in a while," she added with a small smirk and nudged him playfully. "That's the least I deserve for telling your lies."
The potions master nodded. "I will," he whispered, and gave her a small kiss on the cheek before he vanished in thin air.
.
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