Hello everyone! This is a bit special, because it is my first try at writing a story in the 1rst person (and I'm not sure choosing Narcissa was a wise choice, but here you have it anyways) ! I hope you will like it anyway.

Summary of this OS: Narcissa is doing her best to protect her son, but she feels like she is miserably failing.

Rating of this OS: K+

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, and nothing belongs to me, as always. I don't make any money out of this story.

.:.

List of prompts at the end

Word count: 898 words

Failing: Narcissa Malfoy and Draco Malfoy (mother and son)

I cannot even bear to look at my son's forearm. I know what is there (the Dark Mark, the start of his demise), and when he tells me that the Dark Lord himself has given him a mission so that he can prove himself, he looks so proud, and so scared at the same time, that I want to throw up. I know the Dark Lord will not take any failure lightly, and I am scared that he will fail.

I just want to protect him. The single best thing I have ever done. And I know that if it comes to choosing between the Dark Lord and my son, I will not even hesitate before choosing Draco. I feel terrible for it, but I would even choose my son before my husband.

When I ask Severus for help, Bella is there, but I don't care. She is my sister, and I know she would never betray me. I hope so anyway. There is not a single hesitation before I grab Severus's wrist and he grabs mine, and the Unbreakable Vow is made.

"Mother?" Draco asks me one day, and he sounds so fragile. Like he is back to being an innocent little beautiful blonde boy. But he is not. He will be a killer by the end of the year, if everything goes well. "Are you disappointed?"

I frown (of course I'm disappointed, but I'm not disappointed in him), and I lie to him (I have to. My life has been built on lies, so why should this be more difficult?).

"No, Draco, I am not." My mask is back on in a second, a cold (warm) smile on my lips.

He doesn't seem convinced, but lets the subject go.

Nothing will ever be the same. I know that now. Draco has failed (thank Merlin, he has failed) and we are not in the close circle of the Dark Lord anymore. But Dumbledore is dead, and all should be going smoothly now. This Order of the Phoenix which Dumbledore led, it will come crumbling down, and we will win in the end. I am sure of that.

But our life… We are not seen as reliable anymore. The Dark Mark on my son's arm is just another memory of our demise (of my failure; I am not able to protect him anymore, to hide him away from the Dark Lord's anger).

I do not sleep anymore. The final battle is close, everyone can feel it. Not just us, not just the Death Eaters, everyone. I am sure that what remains of Harry Potter's loyalists are getting ready too, assembling and preparing for a war that none of us will be able to escape. (Draco, Draco, my son, lost innocence –)

When I look at myself in the mirror, all I can see are the dark marks under my eyes. All they remind me of is the Dark Mark on Draco's forearm. I sigh and I turn around, but I cannot escape this feeling of hopelessness that invades me.

Lucius notices my fragile state (he notices everything), but he does not say anything. Both of us keep quiet, and we are the only ones staying silent. Everyone is talking, laughing, anticipating (Bella. Bella's laugh is everywhere.) and we stay silent, because we are afraid.

He is there, lying on the ground. A dark-haired boy who only reminds me of my son. I know there is a scar on his forehead, and there are scars all over Draco (not visible, but his soul is shattering into pieces. He is still my son, even if I failed to protect him, and I know him all too well to believe him when he tells me he is fine.)

When I come closer to confirm he is dead (of course he is, why wouldn't he be?), my steps falter. I have to tell myself that Draco is not dead, and that I would know it (I would feel it) if he was.

I kneel down on the cold ground (cold like the dead) and check his pulse, one hand on his wrist (there is no Dark Mark there, only bare skin, and I miss the days when Draco was still as pure as him) and the other on his chest. And I can feel it. His pulse. This boy is still alive. After two Avada Kedavras that should have killed him, he is still there. And I envy him, because I know if my son was struck with the Killing Curse, he would just be gone.

I kneel imperceptibly closer to him and whisper (it is almost inaudible, but it is there and if the Dark Lord finds out, I know we will both be dead), "Is Draco alive? Is he in Hogwarts?"

He nods imperceptibly as well, and hope surges inside me. But all I do is rise and turn towards them all (the ones responsible for the loss of innocence of my son) and say, "He is dead." My voice is cold and my eyes icy, and I have made my choice. My son is alive, and he will never go near Voldemort again.

When the Dark Lord finally falls to the ground, never to rise again, all I feel is relief. It might be too late to get the years we wasted back, but my son is safe now.

Written for:

- The Alphabetti Spaghetti on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): letter D - Dark Mark

- The Writing Club (March) on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): Assorted Appreciation: 2 - Lily Potter (Write about a protective mother)

- The Writing Club (March) on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments): Bex's Basement: 12 - Ed Gein (Write about a mother and son)