Prompts: Narcissa Malfoy, inner monologue, front door, Hyacinth flowers, "You're not obligated to speak to me, but I'm here to apologize."
Her heels tapped down the stone steps as the click of the front door sounded with finality behind Narcissa Malfoy. She moved with grace - a purposeful stride, head held high, and shoulders pulled back.
Nothing about her demeanor belied the inner turmoil. That was her way, and rarely did she deviate from it.
The small bunch of blue Hyacinth held in one hand were as impeccably arranged as her outfit and hair.
Those who truly knew Narcissa could see through the artifice, recognizing the strong desire to control all she could when so much around her remained out of control. Unfortunately, since the end of the war, the number of people who truly knew her had dwindled.
The Malfoy matriarch wished she could be as cold as society ascribed her. In truth, it was quite the opposite. Narcissa felt so keenly, and with such passion, cultivating stillness became her only hope of survival amongst the vipers.
Now, her face remained impassive out of habit, her eyes did not dart side to side, the hand clutching the bouquet did not tremble, nor did her steps falter, even as she yearned to turn back around and forget this errand.
Narcissa came to the edge of the wards around the manor, took a breath, which only shook the tiniest amount, and disapparated.
The pop which sounded as she appeared at her destination echoed in the still evening air, bouncing against the stones all around her.
The inner monologue of the words she wished to say roared inside Narcissa's head, even as her shoes quietly swished through the dew-covered grass towards him.
Him. The man she had taken advantage of time and again. How to apologize for that?
Him. The man she had used without regard for his wants and needs. Could there ever be an appropriate apology for that?
Him. The friend who had sacrificed a piece of his soul to leave her son's whole. No etiquette book outlined a precedent for that type of thank you.
Friend? Her inner monologue abruptly shut off as she thought more about that word. Had she ever been a true friend to him?
She reached him and looked down upon what the world could now know, the epitaph on his grave sending a clear message. Severus Snape had been so much more than she, or anyone, realized, far too late.
"Hello Severus. You're not obligated to speak to me, but I'm here to apologize," she addressed the air, laying the blue flowers atop the ledge of his stone, hoping they conveyed the sincerity of her words.
"Hello Narcissa."