AN: Written for Round 5 of QFL. Canon Divergence, AU, Death Eater Narcissa.

Warnings: Character Death, illness

Wordcount: 3030

Prompt: Hypocrisy

Optional Prompts:

(Word) Fleeting

(Object) Pocket Watch

(Dialogue) "I wouldn't blame you if you hated me."

Added Note: I didn't parallel Narcissa and Helen on purpose. I made the connection after finishing the story. I debated heavily on scrapping the ending, but I think it's a fitting tribute to the character she portrayed so beautifully. I promise I meant no disrespect.

RIP Helen, thank you for bringing Narcissa to life.

Hypocrisy, Thy Name Is…

Narcissa Malfoy was the biggest hypocrite Draco had ever known.

For many years, he didn't have a name for it. He was the only one aware of the discrepancies in her behaviour, as he was the only one allowed to witness them.

In public, she was Mother, the cold and calculating woman who ignored him and treated everyone around her with scorn and indifference. In private, when Father was away, she was simply Mummy, who taught him things, sang songs, and gave him snuggles.

He much preferred Mummy because Mummy was happy.

Mother was never happy.

Draco didn't like that.

Father was always Father, no matter where he was. Father didn't seem to care about him and was always angry at him. Father was mean to other people and wanted Draco to be mean too. Draco didn't like Father and was always sad when he came home, mainly because he took Mummy away.

When he was five years old, Mummy began taking him to visit Muggle London, where she was kind, caring, and respectful to everyone they met. She told him that she wanted him to realize what life was really like outside of their little bubble.

She taught him everything she could. They often visited muggle orphanages and donated to muggle charities, and would always make sure he took an active part in their activities.

Draco wondered why Mummy acted so differently when they were around other people.

As Draco got older, things didn't change much. Father was still cruel and unrelenting and would accept nothing below his standards of proper Malfoy behaviour.

Draco was no longer confused by his Mum's actions. He had long since learned that she became Mother to protect them from those who were waiting for the chance to rip them apart.

In time, he developed his own Mask. To all but his mum, he was a carbon copy of Father. Draco resented and somewhat hated Father, but he loved his mum and would do anything to protect her.

Going to school changed everything for Draco. He no longer had his mum to talk to, and he was constantly watched. It wasn't safe to let his mask drop, and the weight of pretending grew as time passed. If it weren't for the holidays, Draco was sure he would have lost all trace of who he was.

When the Dark Lord returned, Draco hadn't wanted to become a Death Eater.

Every lesson his mum had taught him,

everything he had learned about Muggles,

everything he'd seen Muggleborns accomplish,

every instinct in his body screamed against it.

But he would become a Death Eater.

If he didn't, his mum would be punished.

He couldn't allow that.

The day before he was set to be Marked, his mum came to him, her face full of determination. Before he could ask, she grabbed his arm and apparated them to Hogsmeade.

"What are we doing here?"

"I will not allow you to take the Mark. You will not serve the Dark Lord. You will seek protection from Dumbledore." She held herself as though she were expecting a fight.

Instead, Draco agreed immediately. "Alright."

She sighed in relief, only to stiffen when he added, "But you have to come with me."

She shook her head and repeated firmly, "You will seek protection, and I will return to the Manor."

Draco nearly exploded, pacing furiously as he ranted and raved at the hypocrisy of it all. How could she prohibit him from being a Death Eater and remain on herself? How could she expect him to leave her, knowing what she would return to?

"I wouldn't blame you if you hated me," she whispered, "but this is how it must be."

Something in the tone of her voice made him pause, and Draco was shocked to find a wand aimed at him.

His Mum's face was blank as she whispered, "Remember everything I have taught you, my darling. I love you."

"Mum, what-?"

"Stupefy."

Draco knew nothing more.

The air was thick with despair as a lone figure made his way through the dank halls of Azkaban Prison. Most seventeen-year-olds wouldn't be able to stand the atmosphere, but Draco Malfoy had trained for situations such as this for the past three years. Although a lot had changed, only those he trusted most saw beneath his Mask. His Mother was no longer one of those people, and couldn't be allowed to see the anger, uncertainty, and fear lurking beneath the facade.

He braced himself as he reached his destination and peered into the darkness. Though the occupant was dirty and covered in injuries, it was obvious they had not been there long.

"Hello, Mother."

He would not call her "Mum".

"Draco, my darling. I've missed you so much. How are you?"

He couldn't stop the sneer that crossed his face, clenching his fists so tightly he felt his nails pierce his skin. "How am I?! How do you think I am, Mother? I hear nothing from you for three years, and then I find out you've been arrested as a Death Eater!"

She looked down for several moments before she spoke, "Every night, when I was alone, I would retrieve the silver pocket watch that you gave me for Mother's Day. Do you remember? It was encrusted with precious stones and decorated with tiny twisting vines, and the hands were yellow daffodils."

"I remember." He answered, no emotion in his voice.

"It was hideously expensive, but I didn't care about that. I only cared about the picture. I would sit by the window and stare at it, remembering how I used to rock and sing to you, wondering where you were and if you were safe."

Draco swallowed as his eyes began to fill with tears. She had been thinking of him… but she'd still left him.

"What were you doing in all that time?"

"The Dark Lord tasked me with punishing the underlings unworthy of his time. Every day, I tormented, mocked, and tortured them for their weakness, hesitancy, and fear— all behaviours as good as betrayal to the Dark Lord." She answered lowly.

He thought he was going to be sick. "Why?" He choked out.

"It does not matter."

"IT DOES TO ME!" He screamed. "You taught me that all life matters, that we were no better than anyone else! You told me that fear wasn't a weakness, and that there was nothing wrong with feeling weak! Now you're telling me that you spent three years TORTURING PEOPLE FOR VOLDEMORT?!

His Mother flinched at the name, but he ignored it. Thanks to Harry, he was no longer afraid of a simple name.

"You're a bloody hypocrite, Mother! Was everything you taught me a lie?!"

"No.." she whispered.

"Then just tell me why!"

"I won't burden you with an explanation."

"Burden?! Are you serious? What do you think I was dealing with over the last three years?! Did you think you could just dump me and I'd be welcomed with open arms?" Draco paused, eyes filled with bitterness as he became lost in the memories,

"Nearly everyone hated and distrusted me when I arrived at the Castle. Dumbledore received your letter explaining everything and viewed my memories but several people still questioned me under Veritaserum." His voice shook as he continued. "It didn't change a thing. The only person who gave me a chance was Harry."

"You're right."

Draco jerked his head up and found his Mother looking at him, her eyes shining with tears. "What did you say?"

"I have no right to decide what you should and shouldn't know. I'm sorry. I'll tell you everything, alright?"

After a moment, he nodded, conjuring a chair. He silently thanked Harry for pulling strings, allowing him to keep his wand.

"I did it to protect you-"

"You expect me to-" he interrupted, but his Mother held up her hand.

"Let me explain. I'm not making excuses. I'm only telling you what my thought process was at the time. Will you listen?"

Draco sighed and nodded again.

"I spent years pretending to be someone I wasn't to protect us. I should have just taken you and run, but the Dark Lord was gone, and I grew complacent. When the Dark Lord returned, and you decided to become a Death Eater, I couldn't let that happen. I wanted you to have a life and a future away from death and destruction. I couldn't come with you because I bore the mark. He would enslave or kill you and then kill me. Leaving you was my only choice."

Several minutes went by as Draco tried to process this information. He knew how vindictive Voldemort had been. He would have taken great pleasure in torturing him for her betrayal. But… "Why did you go back to him? You could have run on your own. It would have been hard… but you could have done it."

"I was a coward." She admitted. "I always knew the fight would eventually be taken to Hogwarts. I hoped that by remaining faithful, you would be given a chance if the Dark Lord was victorious," she paused, "but I would be lying if I said that was the only reason. I wanted to survive, and I decided that staying as a Death Eater gave me a better chance of that than running."

They sat in silence until: "You… call him Harry?"

He stiffened and crossed his arms, silently daring her to judge him. "What of it?"

"No, darling. I was just curious. How did that come about?"

Draco shrugged, not keen on revealing too much about his personal life. "He was the only one who gave me a chance. Merlin only knows why; I was a right arse to him before. But we have a lot in common." He smiled lightly without knowing it, "I thought he was just being a stubborn Gryffindor at first, but he kept pestering me and seeking me out no matter where I tried to hide."

He felt his face flush when his mother looked at him with a knowing smile. He cleared his throat and changed the subject, "Anyway… I believe you… I suppose. Harry told me what you did for him. He plans to speak at your trial."

"Will you be there?" She asked, her voice hopeful.

"I… yes." Draco hadn't planned to when he first came here, but somewhere inside he could admit that he missed her despite everything.

"I'll be there… Mum."

Two years later, Draco was sitting with his mum in the parlour of her home in London.

"No." Narcissa replied.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, shocked by the disapproval in his mum's eyes.

"I said no, Draco. You will not marry Astoria Greengrass. It would be a farce. Marriage is for love and commitment, not wealth and power. Besides, I know how you feel for the Potter boy-"

"NO!" Draco shouted, cutting her off. "I REFUSE TO LISTEN ANYMORE!" He rose from the sofa and looked down at her, his eyes sparkling with fury. "HOW DARE YOU SAY THOSE THINGS TO ME WHEN YOU MARRIED LUCIUS FOR THE SAME REASONS?!" He took a breath, attempting to calm himself, "Anyway, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Come now, darling, of course you do. I saw how you spoke of him with such admiration when I was in Azkaban."

"That doesn't mean-"

"I saw how you looked at him when he testified at the trial."

"No I wasn't-"

"You two spend a great deal of time together. When he visits, you are always excited and nervous."

"Yeah but we're just-" She wasn't letting him get a word in.

"You owl each other constantly, and every time he writes back, your face lights up and you rush to answer him."

"I do not!"

"Really, he's a fine boy. Even if he hadn't defeated… Voldemort… he's kind, intelligent and witty. Besides, I see how you look at him-".

"ALRIGHT ALREADY!" He sighed, putting his face in his hands. "Of course, I have feelings for him. I love him, Mum," he whispered, "but what does that matter? I can never have him. He'd never feel the same for me... and then I'd lose him altogether." he faltered, the strain of his grief too much for him to continue.

Draco stiffened in shock when his mum wrapped her arms around him. After a moment, he broke completely, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her shoulder. His shoulders were wracked with sobs as she held him, stroking his hair as she had when he was a boy.

When his tears had stopped and his breathing slowed, he raised his head, his grey eyes clouded with guilt over his harsh words. "I'm sorry, Mum. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. But if I do this, then…" he faltered before adding in a broken whisper, "At least I wouldn't be alone…"

She shook her head, "It was hypocritical of me. But I was hoping you could learn from our example rather than follow it.. Our marriage was arranged, but it was also filled with unhappiness and bitter resentment. I would rather you be alone than put yourself in the same situation."

She paused and smiled, "But I don't think we have to worry about that."

Draco looked at her curiously as she looked to the doorway, where Harry Potter stood, looking thoroughly irritated.

"P-Potter," Draco stuttered, "how long have you been standing there?"

Potter scoffed in reply, "Long enough to know that you're a blind idiot, Malfoy."

"I take offence to that, Potter! I am not an idiot—" The beginning of what was surely going to be a long rant was cut off when Harry marched up to Draco and pulled him into a passionate kiss. After a moment of hesitation, Draco buried his hands into messy raven locks and returned it with enthusiasm.

Draco broke off the kiss when he heard his mum clear her throat softly. Flushed with embarrassment, he buried his face in Harry's shoulder.

"Sorry, Mrs. Malfoy, it was the quickest way I could think of to shut him up." Draco snorted softly. Harry's voice was smug, not apologetic at all.

"Am I to assume there will be no marriage to Miss Greengrass then?"

"Certainly not," Draco turned without releasing Harry, as though if he did, this would turn out to be a dream. "Why would I ever agree to such a farce?"

Harry cuffed him lightly on the head., "Don't be a git."

Draco was too focused on admonishing his new boyfriend for messing up his hair to notice the pride and joy reflected in his Mum's eyes.

Epilogue:

Six years ago, the Second Wizarding War ended.

Four years ago, Narcissa tricked Draco and Harry into revealing their feelings.

Three years ago, Harry slipped and called Narcissa "Mum" for the first time.

Two years ago, Narcissa walked Draco down the aisle.

One year ago, she had gotten sick. Cancer was common among muggle-borns, rare in half-bloods, and almost entirely unknown to purebloods. The healers at St. Mungo's could do nothing; muggle treatments were the only hope of a cure, and even they weren't enough.

Narcissa said she was at peace with it. Draco was not.

Six years was nothing.

A drop in the bucket.

A candle in the wind.

A single star in the cosmos.

Six years, one week, three days, 14 hours, and 22 minutes.

That's all she had gotten.

One fleeting moment of freedom.

One fleeting glimpse at a happy life.

One fleeting chance at knowing her son again.

She had left him by choice once before, and now she was gone forever.

As he moved towards the dais, passing mournful faces and fountains of beautiful flowers, Draco couldn't help the resentment that raged through his mind.

They don't deserve to be here. They don't deserve to see her.

He hadn't wanted to hold a "proper" funeral for them. They hadn't known the woman under the mask until after the war. Even then, they took her for granted.

From the day she had been pardoned, she worked herself to the bone to make up for her mistakes. She donated most of her remaining fortune to charities, gave up the Malfoy estates to be used for victims of the war, and spent all of her free time volunteering. Finally, she was seen as the woman Draco had always known.

Now she was gone.

Harry had been the one to change his mind. They didn't deserve her, but she deserved them. She earned recognition for everything she had done to protect her only son. She deserved to be remembered by all the people she had helped since the end of the war.

Harry had been right, as he usually was, though Draco would seldom admit it. As he reached the podium, he looked into the supportive and loving eyes of his husband then took a deep breath and faced the crowd.

His hands were shaking, but his voice was firm as he spoke, "My mum was the biggest hypocrite I ever knew, and I owe her everything for it..."