Word Count: 558
He's injured. James groans, his hand dropping to his side. It comes away slick with blood.
His wand… He needs his wand… His… anything.
But he cannot move. He slumps to the ground, not caring about the chill of the snow that stings even through his clothes, biting back a scream. Home is so close. If only he could get there. If only he could reach Lily.
Does she know? Does any of the Order know about this Death Eater attack in Godric's Hollow? He needs to warn them, needs to…
"Stay down, you idiot!"
He knows that voice. Even with the emerald green hood up and hiding the face, he would recognize Narcissa's voice anywhere. How many times, a lifetime ago, had they spoken, exchanging whispered promises about love and forever? In the end, she had broken his heart.
"I'm so tired of this, Narcissa," he had yelled. "I'm so tired of not being enough for you."
She hadn't been angry, even when he had raised his voice. She had remained stoic though it all. "I cannot betray my family, my love."
Narcissa lowers her head. Her cheeks are a soft rose in the biting winter wind. "Stay still," she instructs.
"You shouldn't be here," he whispers.
She purses her lips. There's a flicker of pain, and she looks away. For several seconds, she doesn't speak, just stares off composing herself. James almost laughs. Typical Black. Sirius is the same way, so afraid of showing emotion.
When she turns, however, there's still pain in her eyes. "I can save lives. That's enough reason to risk my own," she says, frowning. "Well… Save you. I'll do whatever it takes. This is my absolution."
She works in silence. Narcissa had always been a talented Healer. James thinks she could have done great things if Lucius Malfoy hadn't ruined it all. After all, Malfoy women are just pretty trophies. Nothing more. Why should a Malfoy have to work when she simply serves as a decoration.
He tries to focus on anything else, but Narcissa is distracting. His eyes return to her again and again, and he cannot look away. She is still so beautiful. His mind jumps to what if, and it breaks his heart.
"All done," she announces.
The pain is gone. His shirt is still saturated with blood, but he will live.
"You were wrong," he tells her, climbing shakily to his feet. "You could have betrayed your family."
She smiles bitterly. "I should have," she says with a sigh. "I think Andi is so much happier with her life than I am."
He takes her hand, stepping closer. He never stopped loving her, not really. There's always been that gnawing feeling in his gut, that bitter regret, knowing that he hadn't fought for her.
She kisses him, a quick, soft kiss. Her lips still fit perfectly with his, like they were meant to be.
But he cannot dwell on that. Not now. Not anymore. They have their own lives.
"I still love you," she tells him.
Before he can answer, there's an explosion somewhere in the background. The battle is waging, and he needs to find his wand.
"Take care of yourself, Cissa. Get to safety."
And with that, he walks away. Not for the first time, he feels like he's turning his back on his future.