Author's Note: I apologize for my posts being few and far between. I know that not too many people are reading this story or reviewing it, and I'm sorry if I've fallen short of reader expectations. I've started another semester at college, and it's been difficult for me to update as much as I like. I also had a lot of difficulty figuring out how I want this story to go. HOWEVER. Tonight during my Psych class, I had a burst of inspiration, and I now know where it's going. So it should be all good from here.

And if the chapters have been a bit boring, with a lot of background info...TRUST ME. Things happen from here on in. Starting now.

I hope this chapter lives up to expectations. R/R, please, if you think so.


A week later, Mrs. Weasley, on the brink of a nervous breakdown, made the heartbreaking decision to separate the family.

"If something were – to happen," she choked as she tried to explain why to Remus, "it's too easy to attack us if we're clumped together. Best if we separate."

Fred and George already had their own premises, as did Fleur and Bill. Charlie was in Romania. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley decided that Ron and Hermione should stay with them. And Ginny, unwillingly, was packed off to stay with Remus, Harry, and Narcissa at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.

Ron and Hermione were nearly as displeased as Ginny was. They wanted to be near Harry. But Mr. and Mrs. Weasley insisted that Ron stay with them, and sent Ginny instead. "Remus will take care of you," Mrs. Weasley explained to Ginny, who could not bring herself to explain to her parents why she did not want to be in the same house with a former boyfriend who was trying his best to distance himself from her.

And so Ginny came to stay at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and had to room with Narcissa, another issue that caused turmoil. Ginny flatly refused, under pain of her dismemberment by her own mother, to have anything to do with Narcissa, who, after meekly trying to speak to Ginny, eventually gave up. Meals became awkward affairs – since Harry and Ginny were speaking only formally to each other, Remus often had to fill empty spaces in the conversation and fake heartiness. If it were not for his growing friendship with Narcissa, Remus' exasperation might have driven him mad.

On the first night of the full moon, Narcissa walked out of the kitchen to find Remus speaking to Harry and Ginny in low tones. She hung back and tried not to eavesdrop, but she couldn't help hearing him.

"Above all, don't open the door to anyone," Remus said gravely to Harry, "Understand me? I'll be back in the morning."

"I'm not ten, Lupin," Harry replied irritably.

"He knows what he's talking about," Ginny sniped at him. Harry glared at her.

"Enough," Remus said coldly, "You two better shape up or you'll have me to answer to. I don't want either of you worrying Narcissa. Understand me?"

"Huh," Ginny sniffed, "She'll worry us, more like."

"Ginny, I've about had it," Remus said, "I'm leaving. I'll be back in the morning."

He caught Narcissa's eye over Ginny's bright red hair and walked over to her.

"If anyone should stop by," he said to her, "Have your wand at the ready. Don't open the door."

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Trust me," Remus replied heavily, "don't ask me that question. I'll tell you sometime soon. Just promise me you'll be careful."

He half-wondered if she would defy him, as she had all those years ago when he had tried to keep his secret from her. But there was no youthful curiosity in Narcissa's face now. She had learned fear.

"I promise," she said.

He managed a little smile and walked out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

As if on cue, Harry and Ginny both turned to Narcissa. Neither of them said a word.

"What was that about?" she asked to both of them.

Ginny shrugged her thin shoulders and bit a hangnail.

Harry shook his head, "I have a feeling something bad is going to happen. I don't know why. I just do."

"Naturally," Ginny mumbled under her breath. Harry glared at her again.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Malfoy," he tried to say lightly, "it happens all of the time. You just run along to bed. I'll wash the dinner dishes."

He walked into the kitchen, turning his back purposefully on Ginny. Narcissa looked at her young compatriot, who turned her back on her, but not before Narcissa caught Ginny angrily brushing tears from her big green eyes.

Hours later, Narcissa couldn't sleep. She didn't know if it was the result of the death looks Ginny shot her every time they were in the same room together, or just from the strange tableau that had taken place when Remus had left. She felt uneasy, and even trying to read didn't help.

When Ginny and Harry had gone to bed, she'd curled up in front of the fireplace under a blanket, her wand at the ready next to her.

What could Harry and Remus possibly have thought was coming tonight? she wondered. And if they all were in danger, why would Remus leave?

She stared out the window at the full moon. Something was nagging at her pitifully scarred memory, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

Remus – and the moon –

Someone pounded on the door.

Narcissa's hair stood on end. She broke out into a cold sweat. Her fingers closed around her wand, and she slowly rose to her feet. Her footsteps were not her own, but they carried her to the door. Trembling, she peered through the peephole.

Someone was outside – someone hunched over in a cloak.

"Narcissa," a voice rasped, "it's Remus, I'm hurt, please let me in."

Narcissa began shaking harder.

Remus had told her not to open the door to anyone. But he hadn't told her where he was going that night, either. Suppose – suppose he had been wounded, and he came back for help! What if she left him out in the cold? What if he was dying and she didn't help him?

Remus seemed to sense her dilemma.

"Please," he begged in that same rasping voice, "I'm badly hurt. I need help. Please, Narcissa."

She opened the door and, seizing him by the arm, pulled him into the room by force. She moved to shut the door, but it slammed, unaided.

"My, how incredibly careless of you."

With a terrible feeling of dread, she whirled around.

A tall boy with short, white blonde hair and a pale, pointed face was standing before her, the ragged cloak he'd been hiding under pooled at his feet. His clothes were torn and dirty, as was his face. His wand was pointed right at Narcissa's heart.

But what scared her most were his slate-gray eyes, and the chilling murderous emotion she could see in their depths.

You fool! she thought to herself in horror.

She raised her wand at him lightning-quick. But before she could speak, the wand flew out of her hands and into his open one.

He smirked.

"I've gotten quite good at nonverbal spells," he told her unnecessarily.

Narcissa was trembling from head to toe.

"What do you want with me?" she asked him.

His face, if it could, grew paler.

"You can't honestly tell me you don't know," he murmured incredulously.

She shook her head.

He took a step towards her, his eyes glowing with rage.

"You betrayed me!" he shouted, "You betrayed me!"

"Betrayed you?" she asked, "I don't even know you!"

The boy seemed to falter. His legs gave way beneath him; he grabbed an end table for support. Narcissa moved a step back, but he pointed the wand at her again and shouted, "Stay where you are!"

He stepped closer to her, calm again.

"So – you've chosen to deny me, as well," he whispered, "Perhaps it's for the best – it will make this that much easier."

"Make what that much easier?" Narcissa asked. I have to keep him talking, she thought desperately.

"You can't tell me you don't know why I've come," he spat out at her.

She shook her head again.

He laughed shortly, "I've come on a mission to avenge one who has been murdered."

Lucius Malfoy.

Her blood ran cold. Someone had finally caught her. And he was going to kill her. She was unaided. She couldn't stop him.

"You killed Lucius Malfoy, you aided Harry Potter and the rest of the Order of the Phoenix," the boy went on, "and you betrayed the Dark Lord."

"I know no Dark Lord," Narcissa replied clearly.

The boy's gaze grew murderous again.

"Perhaps this will make you remember," he sneered, "CRU-"

Narcissa leapt out of the way. But in the same second, a dark form swooped down and knocked into the pale boy.

Harry! He had heard the commotion and come downstairs.

"Narcissa!" Harry shouted, "Run! Get Ginny and run!"

She didn't need to be told twice. She bolted past the boys and up the stairs, toward the room she shared with Ginny.

But Ginny was tearing down the hall in the opposite direction.

"Quickly!" Narcissa cried, "We have to get out of here!"

There was fire in Ginny's eyes, "If you think I'm going to leave Harry, you're crazy!" she breathed, "We have to help him!"

"I don't have a wand!" Narcissa cried desperately, "He took it!"

"Then I'll go! You stay here," Ginny ordered. She pushed past Narcissa and down the stairs. Narcissa followed her to the landing, but hid behind the newel post, watching with terrified eyes.

The boy and Harry were circling each other, wands pointed at each other's hearts.

"This is the last time you interfere, Potter," the boy spat at him.

"This is the last time I'll have to," Harry retorted.

Ginny leapt over the last two steps and landed firmly on the parquet floor, her wand also pointed at the boy. Harry saw her, and his face was stricken with fear.

"Ginny! Get out of here!"

"No! I won't leave you!"

"That's touching," the boy sneered, "The Mudblood and the Muggle-lover. I'd heard you two were – an item, shall we say?" He smirked at Harry, "I always thought Granger was too beastly-looking even for you."

"Get out of it, Ginny," Harry ordered through clenched teeth.

"Forget it," she retorted, eyes on the boy.

"Yes, get out of it, won't you, Ginny?" the boy murmured.

Quick as lightning, he flicked his wand at her, and a jet of purple light smacked Ginny in the chest. She screamed and fell to the floor, unconscious.

"GINNY!" Harry screamed. The boy took advantage of this to fire a bolt of the same purple light at Harry, but Harry repelled him, looking sick.

"What do you want with Narcissa?" Harry asked him. "Your battles are with me!"

"It's something you couldn't begin to understand, Potter," the boy panted.

"How could you try to kill her? Have you no morals at all?" Harry asked.

The boy glared at him.

"My reasons for what I do," he snarled, "are none of your business, Potter. Although I'd like to know just how you convinced her to join you. Was it the Imperious Curse? Was it? That's what I've always thought, anyway."

"She came to us because she had nowhere else to go!" Harry shouted.

"She had me!" the boy screamed. To Narcissa's shock, she saw a glimmer of tears in the boy's eyes, "She still had me." He shook his head furiously. "It doesn't matter now. I have my orders, and she's got to go. But first – "

And he lunged at Harry, aiming his wand.

But this time, Harry was quicker. Or maybe angrier. He spun out of the way, aimed his wand at the boy, and screamed, "CRUCIO!"

It hit the mark. The boy fell to the floor, screaming, writhing, crying out at the top of his lungs. His wand, along with Narcissa's, clattered on the parquet. But Harry didn't release him. He shot the curse at him again and again, and the boy kept on screaming.

Narcissa wanted to cover her ears, the sound was so horrible. It made her feel physically sick, to hear a human being in such agonizing pain, even if that human being had just tried to kill her. She clung to the banister and closed her tear-filled eyes.

And then she was lying on a bed, in agonizing pain, hearing that screaming, as her mother-in-law and Lucius Malfoy stood over her. Someone was screaming, but it wasn't her. It was the same voice, only so much younger. Lucius' gray eyes – so like the boy's! – were filled with happy tears. And he handed something to Narcissa – something wrapped in a white blanket.

Narcissa pulled back the blanket and looked into a pair of gray eyes, a squished little face, a crown of snow-white duck fluff for hair, little hands that swung at her unconsciously. And she lost her heart. She was crying now, leaning against Lucius, amazed at the miracle she was holding in her arms.

And Lucius kissed her cheek, sweaty with bits of hair clinging to it.

"Let's call him Draco," he whispered.

Draco.

Narcissa's eyes flew open.

"NO!" she screamed.

Flinging herself down the stairs, she fell to her knees on the slippery parquet floor, gasped, jump up again, ran. Without thinking, she threw herself between Harry and Draco's writing form, and felt the full blast of the Cruciatus Curse as she shielded it with her body. She screamed, but it was over in an instant; Harry was not willing to hurt her. She knelt on the floor and lifted the boy's body into her arms, cradling him, sobbing over this boy. Draco. Her only son.

She remembered.

The soft white-blonde hair that had lost its baby curl. The pale face she had kissed so many times in infancy. The long, lithe limbs that had so often leapt on a racing broom and outflown the competition at school. The body, broken and bruised and dirty, draped like liquid over her lap. Narcissa pushed back her baby's hair and kissed his forehead, the tears flowing freely.

She heard Harry stammering something behind her, and the slow scuffle as Ginny regained consciousness and rose to her feet, painfully limping to them. But she was not aware of any of it. She rocked her baby in her arms, kissing him over and over again.

My Draco. My baby. How could I ever forget?

She didn't know if he was alive. His lips did not move, his eyes were still. But as she kissed him, over and over, Narcissa repeated his name.

"Draco. Draco. My baby, my baby. It's over, baby. I love you so much. Oh, please don't leave me. Please don't leave me."

And somewhere inside, though he was unconscious, he must have heard. Beneath her, his chest slowly began to rise and fall, his lips trembling with breath, his lashes wet with tears, as Draco clawed his way back to life.