Author's Note: Anything that seems familiar are excerpts taken from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

Temporary Madness

Book One

The Castle

Castling – a move in chess where the rook, in developing itself, protects the King.

Hammer to Fall

by Queen

"What the hell we fighting for?

Just surrender and it won't hurt at all

You just got time to say your prayer

While you're waiting for the hammer to fall."

Chapter One

Narcissa Malfoy ran along the corridors of Hogwarts.

When she had stepped into the castle for the first time in years with the intention of finding her son, she made sure to keep the hood of her cloak up. However, that thought flew out of her head when she spotted a pale blond head. She lost him when he made a turn towards the 7th-floor corridor.

Narcissa had pure-blood customs ingrained into her very being. She subscribed to them and it became part of her identity. She knew that it was her duty as a daughter to marry the man her family had chosen for her. She was fortunate enough that her duty to her family turned into love for the man who cared for her, taught her powerful magic her parents deemed not suitable for a woman, and made her feel that her voice mattered in their marriage. Unlike most loveless and one-sided pure-blood marriages, Lucius treated her as a partner, an equal. She had learned to love him and had loved him, even more, when they had Draco.

Draco.

Making sure to take the long route away from the Great Hall where the battle converged, Narcissa made a sharp turn and was thrown off her feet when a young woman crashed against her. Both stared at the other as they lay sprawled on the floor of the empty corridor. The woman gasped as got a clear look at the other's face. Narcissa could not move as she stared into the eyes of the other woman. Dark eyes.

Suddenly the other woman's hair morphed from bubblegum pink to a mousy brown. Narcissa looked past the woman's eye color and saw other familiar features, a pale heart-shaped face, and a small pointy nose. Features of a sister she had cared for a long time ago.

Andromeda.

Burnt, bleeding and shaking from the effects of the cruciatus. Screaming in pain when their father, not satisfied with merely burning her off the Black Family Tree, turned the flaming tip of his wand on Andromeda

Their heads sharply turned towards a series of high pitch cackles and light footsteps that could be heard approaching. The young woman's eyes snapped towards her pleading for help. Narcissa had been distracted by her face that she did not notice the woman was bleeding, and cradling a broken arm against her chest. The brown-haired woman's wand lay meters away from them.

Without thinking, Narcissa tapped the woman's head and muttered an incantation. She stepped back as the woman vanished from her sight. Narcissa was relieved that the disillusionment charm worked using the foreign wand she had taken from the dead body of one of the Snatchers that were rotting away in her home. "Do not move." Narcissa hissed.

"Cissy."

Narcissa turned and stared at another set of dark eyes. She raised a brow at her other sister, Bellatrix.

"Bella."

Her sister's hair was like a dark halo farming her face. Her neck was flushed and her malicious dark eyes were alive and bright. Narcissa sneered at her sister's obvious blood lust, thriving in the chaos and death surrounding them. With Narcissa's blue eyes and her blonde hair up done up in a French twist, charmed to keep her hair from moving out of place, the two sisters could not be more opposite.

"I would never have thought that you of all people, would willingly step into battle, Cissy." Bellatrix glanced around them, looking for something.

Narcissa did not move from her place in front of the disillusioned woman. "I am looking for my son, sister. Have you seen him?"

"Draco? No," her sister shot a blasting spell at the window beside them. Bellatrix peered over the debris and out the courtyard where a number of battles ensued. She shot an Avada towards the pandemonium, uncaring to where it landed. "It wouldn't surprise me if we find his body amongst the dead, Cissy."

Before Narcissa had a chance to reply, the Dark Lord's voice echoed and hissed.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

"Cissy, you must hurry. Victory is upon us. By dawn, the Dark Lord shall reign forever!" Bellatrix leaped towards the window and into the night sky. Disappearing in a gust of black smoke.

Narcissa's blood went cold. Forever. She could not bear to see her husband and her son live this life forever. Her heart could not bear it. Servants to a madman. Narcissa scoffed. Malfoys do not serve.

She glanced around her before pointing towards the empty space behind her. "Finite".

Narcissa made her way to the Forbidden Forest, towards the Dark Lord. Hoping that Draco was doing the same. She did not see the confusion in the eyes of the young woman she walked away from.

The Inner Circle of Death Eaters stood frozen in a half-moon position with the Dark Lord in the center and another body a few meters away from him. The large snake, Nagini, was hissing behind them. A half-giant was sobbing in the edge of the clearing.

Not for the first time since the battle started, Narcissa felt fear. Fear for the life of her son who was not part of the half-moon. Her son who she last saw in the castle filled with people who wished the Malfoys nothing but death. Fear of the uncertainty of the future of the Wizarding World as both the Dark Lord and Potter lay on the soft ground in the clearing in the center of the Forbidden Forest, unmoving.

"Is he alive?" Narcissa whispered.

She felt a warm hand rest over her own. The return of the Dark Lord had taken a toll on Narcissa's husband. Lucius had suffered for hours under the unbearable pain inflicted by the Dark Lord's cruciatus curse. Along with other Death Eaters who turned their backs from their Lord when he met his demise in Godric's Hollow. Narcissa had tended to her husband and refused the care of their house-elves when Lucius returned from the graveyard where the Dark Lord returned.

It was worse when Lucius failed in the Department of Mysteries. The Dark Lord had called upon Draco to fix his father's mistakes. If Narcissa thought her heart had torn when she saw her husband's beaten body after the Dark Lord tortured him, then her heart had shattered when she was forced to watch Draco endure the pain that came with taking the Dark Mark at the tender age of 16.

Where are you, Draco?

Bellatrix had apparently gotten over the shock of seeing their Dark Lord thrown off his feet from the strength of his Killing Curse. She inched her way towards his unmoving form. "My Lord, let me help you."

"I do not require assistance," the Dark Lord said coldly, rising to his feet. "The boy… Is he dead?"

The silence in the clearing was deafening. Nobody approached the Potter boy, but every single Death Eater had their eyes trained on him.

"You," the Dark Lord's wand pointed at Narcissa. She felt a slow-burning pain crawl from her stomach towards her throat before she was blasted off her feet. "Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."

Narcissa stood and walked towards the prone body, ignoring the lingering pain she felt and the worried eyes of her husband. She knelt down and touched the boy's face. It was cold and… Narcissa could feel the same darkness that has blanketed her home since the Dark Lord decided to take up permanent residence in the manor. Something dark and evil. Narcissa shuddered delicately when she realized the aura of darkness was coming from the boy's body. Probably the after-effects of the Avada. Narcissa thought unsurely as she withdrew her hand from his face. She placed a palm on his chest and felt nothing. Narcissa let out the breath she was holding. Potter was dead.

As she moved to stand, she felt a weak flutter against her palm. A heartbeat.

Eye widening, she made sure her actions were fast and hidden from the view of her audience behind her. She discreetly grabbed her wand and pointed it at the boy's head. Legilimens.

Although Narcissa was not a natural legilimens like Albus Dumbledore, she had learned from a powerful self-taught legilimens. Severus Snape. It took a significant amount of willpower on her part to open the mind of the cursed boy in front of her. She took a second longer than usual because she had to force her way through his mind, rather than enter through his eyes.

Harry was surrounded by a firestorm. He was craning his neck while riding his broom. He appeared to be looking for something. And then he saw them. Malfoy with his arms around his unconscious friend Goyle, the pair of them perched on a fragile tower of charred desks.

Harry dived. Draco saw him coming and raised one arm, but even as Harry grasped it he knew at once that it was no good: Goyle was too heavy and Malfoy's hand, covered in sweat, slid instantly out of Harry's —

"IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I'LL KILL YOU, HARRY!" roared Ron's voice, and, as a great flaming chimaera bore down upon them. Malfoy clambered up behind Harry.

Draco was alive. He was alive.

"Well?"

Narcissa had pure-blood customs ingrained into her very being. She subscribed to them and it became part of her identity. She knew that her duty as a pure-blood was to her family. As a mother, her first and foremost duty was to her son. Her son, who is alive thanks to the dark-haired boy in front of her. Her son, who might have a chance at escaping a life of servitude and pain and evil if the Potter boy continued to live.

Narcissa Malfoy always knew that she had to do her duty. She took a breath and looked at the unmoving body before her, watching as ink-like lines appeared on his face.

"He is dead."

"NO!"

Minerva McGonagall let out a terrible scream when she saw Harry Potter's limp body cradled in the arms of Hagrid. Minerva fell to her knees. No. It must be a trick, she refused to believe her eyes. Harry always lived through Voldemort. Always.

She watched as Neville Longbottom broke free of the Body-Bind Curse. The flaming Sorting hat fell off him and he drew from its depths something silver, with a glittering, rubied handle. Godric Gryffindor's Sword.

Pride surged through Minerva as she watched Neville slice off the great snake's head. It spun high into the air, gleaming in the light flooding from the entrance hall. Voldemort's mouth was open in a scream of fury that nobody could hear, and the snake's body thudded to the ground at his feet.

Voldemort pointed his wand at Neville. Neville threw the sword away, seeming to accept his faith after doing exactly what Harry last told him. Kill the snake. The young Gryffindor bravely held his ground and glared at Voldemort in defiance.

Minerva ran in front of Neville and threw her arms out her hands as she chanted an incantation. The same incantation the Four Founders of Hogwarts used to secure the school. A blast of white light erupted from Minerva's chest and grew into a protective dome. Encasing those who were fighting for the side of the Light and expelling Death Eaters outside of the walls of Hogwarts. Voldemort screamed in fury, burst into dark smoke, and flew away.

Kingsley Shaklebolt grabbed McGonagall who was still projecting the light that created new wards around Hogwarts. "Minerva, what did you do?"

"Professor!" Neville was the first to recover from the shock of witnessing brilliant magic that drove the Death Eaters and even Voldemort away. He looked around and saw that the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix and their allies were gathered around them. He felt Luna stand beside him.

Among the crowd, he could see Ron Weasley holding his crying sister, Ginny, who was screaming Harry's name. To their left was wounded a Remus Lupin who was being held up by his younger wife.

"Hogwarts was not built by our Founders without ensuring that it could protect itself and be protected at times of great need," Minvera's Scottish brogue was more present now that she seemed to be getting weaker. "The Four Founders of Hogwarts gave parts of their magic and life to give strength to our wards. To make it stronger than the average ones cast. Fearing that one day, the wards would fail, the Headmaster of Hogwarts has the power to give magic and life to power the wards back."

Filius Flitwick tried to control his shock. "Minerva! That Founders were only able to give only parts of their lives and magic to feed the wards and live through it because they cast it together. There were four of them."

Kingsley shook his head. His usually pensive face, expressed a look of confusion, "Minerva, wasn't Severus the Headmaster? How were you able to cast it?"

Minerva grunted as she slid to the floor. "Severus died, Kingsley. So did his Deputy Headmasters, the Carrows. The title reverted back to me. The previous Headmaster."

"Professor… the wards… they're living off of your magic now and the spell isn't finished." Bill Weasley said. He was a curse breaker who had knowledge of obscure magic. "You won't survive this."

Minerva stared at the eldest of the Weasley children, "We all knew what we signed up for." Then slowly, Minerva's lips turned up to a soft smile. "I am the Head of Gryffindor House for reason, Mr. Weasley." They all knew what she meant, she was brave. She was not afraid of death, not when it meant that she died giving protection them all the protection they needed.

Argus Filch came running towards them. "Death Eaters outside! Death Eaters outside!" He came to a stop, panting. "The Death Eaters! Hundreds of 'em. Outside the wards! They're waiting for a chance to attack!

The Death Eaters did not leave when the wards blasted them out. Any moment now the uncompleted wards would fail, they could all see that Minerva McGonagall's magic and life alone is not enough. The Transfiguration Professor clenched her fist. Hundreds of spells ready on the tip of her tongue. I'd rather die fighting than surrender. Like Harry. Minerva thought.

"She will survive." Filius rushed forward and placed his arm on Minerva's. Giving magic and life to her and into the wards. Poppy Pomfrey, the school healer, caught on and did the same. The last three surviving Professors and Staff of Hogwarts poured their magic and life, sharing it, and offering it to the wards for protection.

Another jet of white light shot straight to the sky, but it still was not enough.

It won't work.

Three. It worked only for the Founders because there were four of them. It would only work if there are four. Minerva shut her eyes. The rest of them began preparing for a battle they knew they would not win. They were too tired, too many injured, the pain of losing their loved ones still too fresh.

Suddenly, Filch stepped forward.

McGonagall glared at him. "No," She breathed out. "It will not work, Argus, you do not have magic for the wards to tap into. It will drain your life."

"Mrs. Norris is dead." Filch shrugged. "I may be a squib, but I dedicated my life as a caretaker of this school. I'm not about to stop taking care of it now."

Before anyone could stop him. He placed his hands on the white light.

Blue balls of fire can be seen floating outside the courtyard. Casting an ethereal glow in the blackness of the night. People were seated on the ground. Loud cries of grief can be heard among the soft murmurs of comfort from those who could still muster a bit of strength. The funeral was held for those who had fallen three days earlier, in the Lost Battle of Hogwarts.

Mrs. Norris was buried together with Argus Filch.

When the old caretaker placed his hands on the white light with the intention of giving his life, it completed the protective wards of Hogwarts. His life sacrifice merged with the ancient magic, it made the wards around the castle stronger than it was when it was first cast by the Founders.

Dark shadows can be seen beyond the edge of the wards, surrounding them. In the past three days, Death Eaters, Dementors, and Aurors would take turns keeping watch. The attendance of the Aurors is a testament that the Ministry of Magic was still under the full control and supervision of Voldemort. Although they shouldn't be able to see inside the wards, their presence created an uneasy atmosphere that vanished the illusion that they were safe inside the wards. They were not safe. They were prisoners.

As night bled into dawn, people can be seen waving their wands over a soft patch of ground. Wizards and witches pay their respects to the memory of a bespectacled green-eyed boy by conjuring flowers.

By the time the sun was at the highest point in the sky, the ground where an empty casket was buried, was overflowing with white lilies.

"Older men declare war. But it is youth that must fight and die."

― Herbert Hoover