In this fic I'm taking into account all the books and the movies that are available to the public, that INCLUDES SPOILERS FOR BOOK 6 so if you don't want to get an eyeful as you haven't read it yet, don't read it! (Points to the Back button)
WARNING: This is what I think happened over the summer of Draco's fifth year, after Harry sent his father to Azkaban and the scenario behind Draco's sixth year task. Also, it gives more of an emotional background to both his and his mother's behavior in the sixth book.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't have a 6ft 1in, pouty, white blonde haired boy toy that I can pole dance with/on. No, nothing is mine but the plot! As this is technically all a MISSING scene…
You heard nothing…
I don't exist…
----
Chapter 3: InnocenceThe hour is late and I am weary yet I cannot rest. My footfalls nearly silent on the thick carpet that spans the length of the corridor, the doors of ancient Malfoy apartments lining the walls like silent sentinels. This is my home and yet still I find myself walking in cautious silence, I was not born a Malfoy though I have borne its next Master. I still feel as a visitor, an outsider; the secrets within are hidden from me, they shift, just out of sight.
As I pass a high window, fleeting light catches my eye. Simple moonlight, so benign yet how terrifying when it plays the herald to forgotten dreams: unwanted and dark, the terror of the night and its mirror in the mind fragmented.
My thoughts swirl once again to the task at hand and the son I birthed so many moons ago.
For a woman giving birth can be the most important event in ones life, certainly the most physically taxing. Nothing else can ever truly compare. To bring forth life into the world after carrying it close to your heart for nine months, hearing the first screams of surprise, outrage, joy and then peals of laughter and sodden crying over scrapes and broken hearts and dreams. It's… quite an experience to live through. Some of us loved being mothers and some… found it a trial, while others never would be, sometimes for the best.
To become a mother is not something that should be taken lightly, or done without care and yet—What other choice do we have? As women we are bound to our wombs, to give life is our function and duty, to give birth to an heir, our hope. At least for those of privilege…
From the moment of knowledge that we are with child we are bound to its fate, unknowing of its gender we hope, our sole concern its safety and health, that it grows strong and sure.
So much love we give, to imagine them hurt—it's too painful. I can't— I can't let him do this. If he does he will lose himself and be no more... and I will have nothing
My eyes blankly take in the coiled door handle in front of me as I reach for the latch to Draco's room. It turns swiftly in my pallid grasp: silent, oiled and smooth, stepping quietly inside, it closes just as well.
Turning around, a fleeting smile sweeps across my lips as I view the barely controlled chaos perched almost lazily on a convenient corner of your favorite chair by the window. It's a wonder the chair hasn't tipped over yet. A sigh disturbs the moonlit silence of your room as I move to lighten the load, or at least put a dent in it. Crumpled haphazardly on top is a school robe, the Slytherin crest stitched to its breast showing a few stray threads around the edges, I run my fingers through them idly, lost in thought. Watching you grow from infant to child to young boy and now nearly a man… I can no longer watch over you, you have grown beyond my reach.
A clear drop of salty water falls nearly unnoticed on the heavy wool still bunched in my grasp, my eyes barely catching its fleeting glimmer as it swiftly seeps into the cloth. My fingers stray to my face and feel wetness trailing down my cheek. I'm crying… I hadn't noticed
Almost absently I fold up the wrinkled robe, noting how much you've grown from the small boy chattily going to your first year of school at Hogwarts. So much has changed since then; so much has been lost
#Clink#
I whirl around in surprise as the gentle sound of something small and metallic hitting the hardwood floor rouses me from my thoughts. My face slips back to a composed expression as understanding clears my mind: you dropped a necklace you'd had in your hand; it now lay, possibly broken, gleaming faintly on the dark floor. As I drew closer to pick it up, I see that it is a locket: pale white gold with a long thin chain, a simple oval. A pretty trinket, perhaps a gift or a personal choice, I leave it closed as I lay it gently on the nightstand by your glass of water, taking a seat in the light chair by your bed. Hand outstretched you remain sprawled on your bed, sheets twisted around you, wound by troubled dreams. Fevered sweat a glistening film over your naked chest as your breathing grows labored and once again a shadow I cannot see roils your sleeping mind. I long to reach out and hold you in my lap as I once did but now I can only watch, softly brushing your hair from your face when the damp strands fall too far astray. Dark brows draw together as if in pain as you whisper in fear, words I cannot understand falling from your lips as you begin to writhe once more; your hand, now empty of its precious gift, curls into a fist and draws close to your heart, as if a talisman. A shudder wracks your frame and you flinch violently as if struck—there is silence for a broken moment, then a single word falls from your lips, a name I know too well… a name known by all for the last 15 years of this life
"Harry—"
My eyes close for naught as tears prick and flow unchecked, the irony a stabbing pain within my breast. I can do nothing— This is a burden you must bear, of it I know nothing as you have said nothing, but— I shall leave this knowledge in silence. Whatever choices you make you must live by them, as we have all done. Sometimes… to the detriment of others: such is life, as it were. To care for another as you do beyond the asking, nothing can bring more joy yet wreak so much pain.
Eyes still misty I reach out, gently running my fingers through your sweaty mussed hair, stroking your scalp and softly caressing the sharp planes of your face. You lie for the moment in stillness, turned towards me as if sensing me, seeking comfort long remembered. I love you—you are flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood; your birth an agony I remember, your life above all I treasure. Though I cannot evade the Dark Lords request, I can bind another to guard your safety, one who can complete the task that has been set if you should falter. But your mind—so open, if your heart should be seen… you will be forfeit. It must… be shielded; you must learn to guard it, only then can you be safe within His sight from His prying mind.
My brows draw together in deep thought over this new dilemma: who could teach you, who was good enough yet close enough to teach you such a dangerous lesson? Who… Who could I trust…
Damn!
The hand resting in my lap curls into a fist, nails biting into my palm; my wedding band cuts into my finger as if reminding me of my duty, the sacrifices I have made—and the lives I've taken. Perhaps this is payment for my sins, if there are such things. My hand uncurls, rising to brush errant strands of pale blonde out of my face. I'll be damned if this is the end and we are ground to nothing, whatever it takes. Whatever it takes! We shall get through this
As if frozen in time light falls into shadow and dreams dwell where we fear to tread, I shall guard you as I have since your conception… this time from one more cruel than your father. Though you think I have done nothing, I have! I bleed inside to see you think me weak for I am not… I am a woman guile my only sure weapon.
A smile of deep sadness spreads across my lips… I will do all I can yet I must lastly contend with you. No longer a child you wish to prove yourself, to your father always and now to Him—such is that that we must bear our burdens, all that we are as nothing before our fears and hidden weakness, that we must bow as others hold sway.
As night deepens into slow approaching dawn, I fall into silence; your form still, worn out as you dream another dream. I sit in peaceful vigil, path decided and mind at rest, all that remains, execution as the pieces chose their places on the board and we dance once more to the follies that plague our lives. All shall be as it was meant, Bella shall teach you the craft of silence, bound by blood as she is and you shall learn, as you have no choice
Neither do I—but such is our fated life
O.o
(Bursts into tears)
Muuummyyyy! (Glomps mum with hearty squeeze… victim slowly turning blue from lack of oxygen…) Oooops... Gomen!
AN) I don't have a son, nor am I actually a mother at all; I simply took a few tentative steps in the shoes of the woman who gave me life… and found the soul I needed to give Narcissa flesh and bone. I also slipped inside myself on how I'd feel in her place… (Wipes stray tear from eye… grabs hankie)
Next chapter! Draco's revelation, what he feels meeting Voldemort for the fist time and just HOW he gets the "task" he attempts so very hard in book 6!