Narcissa wanders the corridors the following night. She cannot believe they are all gone.
Her house is no longer the gloom-covered headquarters of the most dangerous dark wizard that ever existed. There are no more witches and wizards making their presence scarce whenever the Dark Lord comes into a room, falling to their knees either to avoid his curses or screeching under them. He had grown dangerous and cruel, more and more as time went by and his plans failed. She does not miss living in fear.
She misses her sister. Her deranged cackle scared her, her magic ability amazed her, the way she would use it terrified her, but she was family. She will be mourned and missed. She was all that was left from her roots, from that now ancient world in which they had both been raised. A world of blood running pure, of defending your honour with your wand, of knowing Dark Arts and being proud of it. Of the wizarding elite that once ruled almighty and is now gone. Bellatrix Black, made Lestrange, who was only truly His, the warrior star, burned bright and left glowing embers and ashes in her trail.
She left something else too. Like all extinguishing stars do. Someone else. Another light in the firmament, just set ablaze. It could turn out to be the biggest mistake in wizarding history, leaving that child alive. An augury, He believed. She was supposed to bring forth a new world. She has, but not His. Better not dwell on it, lest she turn into the prophesized creature.
The child is no longer the Dark Lord's and his most faithful and dangerous lieu-tenant's daughter. She is a Lestrange being raised by her remaining family, the Malfoys, she cannot be anything else. The world would burn the sky away to snuff out her little light.
Narcissa finds herself in front of engraved double doors. She puts her hand against the nursery door, thinking of her husband, who is barred from commanding a door at his own house. Lord Voldemort's final humiliation.
A supposedly pure-blood baby sleeping in her crib is what she expects. But she is not there.
Her guardian has her.
The blonde in the white silk dressing robe makes her way into another corridor. Finds another room. There are no wards on this door. It isn't even locked anymore. Not that locking or warding it made any difference. She pushes it ajar and watches from the doorway. A shape is curled up on the mattress, between linen sheets and under a dark blue cover that glistens in the moonlight. Blond hair falls over a pillow, facing away from her. She stands there, taking in the peaceful slumber that now dwells in her house.
Draco is sound asleep. By his side, protected in his embrace, is the little bird. Their precious augurey, with her small chest rising and falling rhythmically, even breaths, perfectly content. Draco's right hand is over her, as if assuring him of her presence. Keeping her near and safe.
He is no longer her boy. Her fragile child brought to this world with so much pain and having endured so much, much more they thought him able to stand. The bird flew out the nest and came back different. He was pushed out of the nest, really. He fell to the ground. All the way down a tower. And rose again.
He is no longer her boy. Nor her fragile child. He has a choice now. And he has chosen family. Not out of blood but out of love. Delphini is the closest thing to a sibling he has ever had and he is keeping her. She alone makes his ground solid again. Delphini frightens him but still takes his fear of the future away. He is scared of what may come but he feels safety when he holds her. She was his only link to peace before. Not even Narcissa could do that by the end. Now that the war is finally over, Delphini will be his saving grace. She is the reason he tossed is wand at Potter. So that she could have a chance at life away from shadow, out of the darkness. So that she could be a child and not a soldier, not a weapon. So that he could save all of them.
He is no more the sweet feathery thing of his childhood. He bears scars now. His hide is thick. He is no longer afraid of using his power. He will fight for them. He will fight for her. The child was is anchor during the war, his safe haven. That little girl is the light that guides him home. His very own polar star. He will fly towards her, spreading his wings wide, so that he can embrace her at the end and shield her from all the danger in the world. Always. Until the very end.
And so before retreating to her den, where her own guardian awaits, Narcissa watches as they sleep.
A little star bird inside a nest of blue and love.
A dragon watching over its treasure.
Author's Notes: sorry for keeping you waiting. Busy weekend. I cannot thank you enough for sticking with me on this