Just a Matter of Time, a harry potter fanfic

Title: Just a Matter of Time

Author: QueenC

Feedback: queenc@hotpop.com

Rating: PG (if that)

Pairing(s): None, really. Mentions Snape/Narcissa and Lucius/Narcissa

Distribution: Anywhere I send it. If anyone else wants it just let me know.

Disclaimer: Not mine. J. K. Rowling owns everything in the Potterverse. Please don't sue me.

Summary: The inevitable finally happens.

Spoilers: Through 'OotP'.

Author's Note: This ficlet started out as a dream. There was more to it than this, but I decided that I had far too many unfinished fics to make another one. So, this one-shot was born. Also, I will warn you now: Snape is going to be slightly OOC in this. Also, as stated above, there will be mentions of 'OotP'. If you haven't read the book and don't want to be spoiled, leave now. Words in *'s are emphasized and words in //'s are thoughts. Enjoy!

(Just to be polite.)

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The wizarding world was in chaos.

It was the morning following the battle between the Order of the Phoenix and the Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic, and the streets were buzzing with fear and adrenaline. Minister Fudge's open acknowledgement of Voldemort's return, as well as the mass revolt of the dementors, had caused a swell of panic throughout Wizarding Britain.

Businesses were closed, parents were debating on bringing their children home early from school, and the media was having a field day. Small gatherings were taking place as every man, woman, and child tried to decide the best way to stay safe now that war was looming in the very near future. As plans were discussed and discarded, and people attempted to find comfort in the proximity of those they held most dear, lights burned in every window of most every home.

Except for Malfoy Manor, that is.

With candles burning in every window and smoke curling from the chimney, the estate was normally the very picture of perfection. Usually bustling with activity, the Manor was the home of virtually every party worth attending. The select few who had been fortunate enough to see the inside of the mansion weren't soon to forget it.

Now, though, it was merely a building. Silent and dark, it appeared abandoned and forgotten. The tapestries, green and silver, were drawn tightly shut. The house elves, normally scurrying about making certain everything was in order, were gone. No candles burned, no fire crackled, and no voices could be heard.

Even the portraits were empty.

In fact, the only sound that could be heard throughout the entire house was the shallow, even breathing of one person. One woman, who had spent the better part of her life, perched at the top of society. One woman, who had made certain that the Malfoy name, remained as unblemished as possible with all the people who mattered.

Narcissa Malfoy, the epitome of wealth and aristocracy … until a few moments ago.

Her white-blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Not one single strand was out of place. Her skin was flawless, the chill of the room unable to penetrate through the charms she used to keep up her appearance. Her slender shoulders were straight and her dress was immaculate. She was the picture of perfection, just as her home had always been. And yet her entire world had just come crashing down about her ears.

Alone and still, she sat in the drawing room. Shrouded in darkness, her icy blue eyes stared at some point in the distance as her mind tried to regain some control over the situation it had found itself in. Silently, she reminded herself to remain composed. After all, it wouldn't do to lose control.

//True ladies don't lose control. They don't sob and scream. They don't throw things. They just sit still, think things through rationally, and decide what the best course of action is for them and their family.//

As her rattled mind continued to repeat the words spoken to her by her mother from years before, Narcissa slowly re-focused her eyes. Blinking, she dropped her gaze down to the parchment held tightly in her left hand. She didn't bother to read it again. She knew what it said, had known from the moment she'd opened it.

Slowly, her lip began to tremble and she quickly looked away. She couldn't cry, *wouldn't* cry. Tears accomplished nothing. They were for the weak, and she was anything but that. No, instead she continued focusing on what needed to be done.

//I must owl Draco. He needs to be told.//

At the thought of her son, her breath caught in her throat. Forcing away the memories that threatened to rise up and destroy her tentative control of her emotions, the woman turned her attention to her right hand.

Her wand was there; her fingers were loosely wrapped around the smooth wood. She tried to remember when she'd grabbed it. Had it been before the owl arrived? After? Try as she might, she couldn't recall.

//I suppose it doesn't matter. The point is that I have it. It's here. I'm here. It would be so very simple…//

Almost of its own accord, her arm raised and her hand turned so the wand was pointed at her. Completely calm, she stared at the tip that was mere inches from her eyes.

//All I have to do is say the words. Just two little words and it would all be over. I would finally, *finally* be at peace.//

However, she knew she couldn't do it. Killing herself was the coward's way out. And, while Narcissa Malfoy was many things, possibly even weaker than she had first believed, she was most certainly not a coward.

Yet, she was also unable to lower her hand. It was as though she were frozen, stuck between an option that would take her away from all of the pain she was about to face and the fact that to do so would compromise everything she was.

So she remained where she was. Her eyes were trained on the end of her wand. Her hand was steady. Her lips were forming the words she only need utter. And her voice was refusing to cooperate. And finally, after what could have been an hour, or mere seconds, she dropped her arm.

Shoulders remaining straight, she bit back a sigh and returned her gaze to the parchment. She was just about to read the words again, when a sound caught her attention.

There were footsteps coming down the hallway.

Narrowing her eyes slightly, Narcissa aimed her wand at the door. Her lips tightened into a thin line as she waited for the unwanted visitor to appear. Whether they were from the Ministry or a Death Eater, she didn't care. They were still going to suffer.

Quickly going through her considerable knowledge of hexes, she was trying to decide on the best one to use when the door slowly opened. Squinting against the sudden burst of light that filled the room, the woman froze as the intruder became visible.

Severus Snape.

Lowering her wand, Narcissa could only stare as he paused in the doorway. His dark hair and clothing looked even more pronounced with the light streaming in behind him. And the scowl that had become his trademark look was gone, replaced with something that she couldn't quite place.

After a moment, he spoke. "I'm not going to bother asking for permission to come in. However, if you intend to hex me for doing so, I would appreciate a warning," he murmured, his voice as soft and silky as she remembered.

"Of course," she replied, her own voice sounding strange to her ears. It was too tight, not nearly as defined as was supposed to be.

Nodding his head, Severus fully entered the room. Leaving the door open he silently approached her. However, instead of coming to stand directly in front of her as she had expected, he turned at the last minute and moved toward the fireplace.

"It is freezing in here, Cissa," he commented, pulling out his wand. Neither of them noticed that he'd used the nickname he'd given her when they were children. A nickname he hadn't used since she'd been wed to Lucius.

Lucius. Her husband. Severus' one-time best friend.

Suddenly, she realized what he was doing, how he was about to start a fire. Panic seized her and she nearly rose from her chair, prepared to physically stop him before she remembered she had a voice.

"No!" she exclaimed, her tone sharper than she had intended. Seeing the slightly shocked look on his face, she added in a softer tone, "Just leave it, Severus. I don't want a fire."

Lips tight, the Potions Master nodded. "Very well." Turning so he was facing her, he studied her for a few moments. Then, he quietly said, "I'm very sorry, Narcissa."

Giving a harsh laugh, Narcissa stared at him. "No, you aren't," she replied. "You aren't the least bit sorry. No one is."

Severus nodded, knowing that she wasn't saying that because she wanted pity. No, Narcissa would die before she would let someone feel sorry for her. She was simply saying it because it was true. No one was actually sorry about what had happened.

No one except for her, of course.

"Yes, well," he said, suddenly feeling the need to justify himself. "While I may not be sorry for what has happened, I do wish that you did not have to suffer."

She tipped her head slightly. "Of course," she commented, lowering her gaze back to the parchment. Blinking past the tears that seemed determined to blur her vision yet never fall, she gave a shaky sigh.

"They sent an owl," she stated when the silence became too much to take. Raising her head again, she locked eyes with him.

A bitter smile was twisting her features, reminding Severus so much of her sister, Bellatrix, that he was forced to look away for a moment. "I see," he said in a noncommittal tone. What else could he say?

Narcissa shook her head slightly. "An owl, Severus," she repeated, anger lacing her words. "Could they not find someone willing to deliver the news in person? Or were they too busy celebrating to bother taking the time to think their actions through?"

Severus gave her a sharp look, one that he normally reserved for his students when they were towing the line between right and wrong. "That isn't fair, Narcissa," he scolded lightly. "Everyone has suffered to some extent or another."

"No, they haven't!" she cried, rising to her feet. Forgetting all about poise and daintiness, she allowed her emotions to shine through. Ignoring the slight look of shock on his face, she continued. "*No* one has suffered as I have, Severus. There isn't one person I can think of who has been forced to endure the same amount of pain these past few hours."

"Draco has." His voice was quiet, barely a whisper, but it spoke volumes to her.

Opening a closing her mouth, Narcissa was at a loss for words. "H-He knows?" she stammered, suddenly finding it difficult to breath.

//Oh, Merlin, no. Please, not without me there. He can't have been alone when he found out. He simply can't.//

Severus pursed his lips, putting thought into his next words. "Albus felt it would be best if he not find out through…other sources," he eventually explained.

The woman's brow creased as a mixture of anger, indignation, and worry rushed through her. "I must go to him," she whispered, gathering her robes about herself. "He needs me."

Turning to leave, she paused only when Severus placed his hand on her shoulder. Stiffening, she stood in place, waiting for him to force her back into the chair. However, he did nothing of the sort, instead opting to merely talk.

"He's sedated right now, Cissa. While he handled the news quite admirably, he was still rather upset. I gave him a sleeping draught and sent him to my private rooms," he stated. As an almost afterthought, he added, "There is nothing you can do for him tonight."

Shrugging off his hand, she turned to face him. Her mask of control was firmly in place once again as she gave him a cold glare. "Is that a fact?" she questioned, her voice deceptively calm. "You truly believe there is nothing I can do for my own *son*? That you are better suited at caring for him than his own mother?"

Severus raised an eyebrow, refusing to fall for the bait. "Narcissa, I did not come here to argue with you. The simple fact is, Draco has already been apprised of the situation and will not wake until morning. Now, if you wish to go to Hogwarts while in such disarray, I will not stand in your way. However, I feel I would be negligent as your friend if I did not point out that, to arrive at such a public setting while clearly under such emotional duress may cause unwanted attention to be focused on not only you, but Draco as well."

Narcissa's lips tightened until they were merely a white line against her already pale face. She knew he was right. Severus was almost *always* right. However, it didn't make her feel any better. In fact, realizing that she was going to have to wait to see her son only caused her heart to ache even more.

However, she didn't have time to dwell on that at the moment. Right now, she had to begin plotting her revenge. But first, she had to find out who was responsible.

And the only way to do that was to ask.

Meeting his gaze, she calmly questioned, "Who did this, Severus?"

Severus paused for a moment, warring with himself. He felt she had a right to know, wouldn't be able to rest until the truth was revealed to her. However, Dumbledore severely disagreed, and had all but ordered him not to reveal what he knew.

Still, the more he looked at her, the more he knew he had to tell her. They had been friends for a long time, and more than friends once or twice. He at least owed it to her to be honest now, when it mattered most.

"That idiotic cousin of yours," he finally replied, feeling none of the pleasure he thought he would feel at disparaging Sirius Black's name. He began to elaborate, but thought better of it and closed his mouth with a snap.

Narcissa blinked, the words not seeming to register for a few moments. "Sirius?" she whispered. "But he…"

"Is dead," Severus supplied. "Bellatrix killed him shortly thereafter, then escaped with the Dark Lord."

The woman nodded slowly, letting the words sink in. So her cousin was dead, at the hands of her sister.

//And I feel nothing at all for either of them.//

Severus studied her, waiting to see what her reaction would be. After a moment, when he realized she was probably too numb to properly feel much of anything, he spoke again.

"As I stated before, I do wish that this hadn't happened to you."

"Why are you here?" she suddenly asked, her voice sounding nearly normal. Seeing his shocked look, she gave a humorless smile. "Honestly, Severus. We haven't spoken in years, at least in anything other than a formal setting. And, while I will always care for you, the fact remains that we ceased being friends some time ago. So, I will ask again. Why are you here?"

Not even thinking about his answer, he instantly replied, "You should not have to be alone. Regardless of how strong you believe yourself to be, I know the truth. You are in pain, and frightened, and have done nothing to deserve any of it."

Here, she chuckled darkly. "That, my dear friend, is where you are wrong. I am the *cause* for it. I supplied the Dark Lord with the information needed for the attack to occur last night. Kreacher came to me, the last remaining Black that he still respected," she stated, her voice cracking with emotion as tears began to drip down her cheeks. Still, she continued on, refusing to stop until it was all out in the open. "I was the one who gleamed what information I could, and sent him back to learn more. I was the one who suggested that they use Sirius to reach Harry Potter. I was the one who…"

Severus narrowed his eyes, resisting the urge to shake her. "Stop it, Narcissa!" he hissed, cutting her off. "You are no more to blame than anyone else. And I will not stand by and let you wallow in this guilt."

Narcissa nodded, obligingly closing her mouth. Silently, she arranged her robes once again. "Thank you for coming, Severus. However, I fear it was a wasted trip. As you can see, I am as fine as I can be," she said quietly.

She gave him a thin smile. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have some affairs to put in order before going to get my son."

Severus frowned, a feeling of dread settling in his stomach. He hadn't seen her like this in years. Not since the day before her wedding to Lucius, when she had honestly considered leaving.

//Now is not the time to dwell on the past. She didn't leave then, and even grew to love the insufferable git.//

Carefully, he moved to stand in front of her. "Cissa, what are you doing?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

Giving him a more genuine smile, Narcissa replied, "I'm leaving, Severus. I am going to pack a few items, gather some money from my personal vault, get Draco from Hogwarts, and leave."

Severus' eyes widened a fraction. "No," he whispered, before he could stop himself. A feeling of panic began to well up within him. "Cissa, you cannot leave. Not only will the Ministry begin looking for you, but the Dark Lord…"

She waved him off, laughing lightly. "Don't worry for me, Severus. The Ministry has their hands full at the moment. And the Dark Lord has far more important things to worry about than one defector. Wouldn't you agree?" she questioned, pointedly glancing at his forearm.

Unconsciously, he moved his arm so it was out of her direct line of sight. "I do not know what you mean," he stated quietly.

Shaking her head, she sighed a bit. "Severus, really. I've known you for how many years now? Did you *honestly* think I wouldn't be able to tell?" Seeing his panicked expression, she raised one perfectly arched eyebrow. "Why do you think I insisted Draco attend Hogwarts?"

For a moment, they stared at one another. Severus was trying to come to terms with what she had just revealed, and Narcissa was praying that she was correct in her assumption that he was no longer a loyal Death Eater. Finally, she broke the silence.

"Come with me."

She said it so quietly, he wasn't certain he had even heard her correctly. Blinking, he inanely asked, "Pardon?"

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, which was something that had been trained out of her at an *extremely* young age, the witch repeated herself. "Come with me. You cannot possibly hope to fool the Dark Lord forever. And Draco certainly thinks highly of you. And as for myself…"

Severus held up his hand, stopping her before she said something she might later regret. "As honored as I am, Cissa, I cannot," he responded. "I have responsibilities. And, I fear that you are not thinking clearly and would soon change your mind. I am not the easiest person to get along with."

Nodding, a sad look flittered across her face. "I didn't believe you would," she murmured. "You wouldn't come with me all those years ago, either."

Straightening up so she was at her full height, she leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. Softly, she whispered, "I had no regrets then, nor will I have any now. Should you change your mind, all you need do is find me."

Then, taking a step back, she gave him a small, sad smile. "Thank you, Severus."

Raising an eyebrow, he wondered, "Thank you?"

She nodded. "Yes. Thank you. For everything." Giving him one more smile, she turned on her heel and practically glided from the room.

Feeling almost frozen to the spot, Severus merely watched her go. Images from twenty years earlier flashed in his mind. Pictures of a young woman walking down the aisle, her white-blonde hair pulled back in an elaborate style and her blue eyes shining with emotion.

He had watched her leave then, just as he would watch her leave now. And, because of his own fear, and sense of responsibility, he would do nothing to stop her. Instead, he would return to Hogwarts and continue down his path of redemption.

And without a second thought, or a moment's hesitation, he apparated away.

Moments later, Narcissa re-appeared in the doorway, a sad smile playing on her lips. "I will miss you, dear friend," she murmured softly. Moving across the room, she stopped in front of her discarded wand. Leaning over, she had just closed her fingers around it when something else caught her eye.

It was the piece of parchment.

Picking it up, she stared at it for a few seconds. "Please forgive me," she whispered as she crossed the room. "But my loyalty now falls to myself and Draco." Then, she dropped the piece of paper into the fireplace.

Pulling out her wand, she murmured, "Incendio," and watched with detachment as the paper erupted into flames. Placing her wand back in her pocket, she allowed herself to skim over the words as they were literally destroyed before her eyes. For, once they were nothing more than ashes, she was determined not to dwell on them again.

However, right now, for this moment, she was going to grieve for everything she had lost in the name of war.

Mrs. Malfoy—

We regret to inform you of the death of your husband, Lucius Malfoy... ^^…

The End

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Well, what do you think? Love it? Hate it? How about leaving me a review and telling me?

QueenC