The Funeral

Narcissa Malfoy

I needed anger for this to work. Just a little bit. Not too much, but enough.

I slammed the door open, hard enough for the handle to make a dent in the wall. The figure on the bed barely raised her head before she let it fall again. Her hand methodically stroked the dark hair of the baby on her chest. Carolina was the epitome of a broken woman. And that poor baby. Three months old and no father...

I couldn't let sympathy distract me.

With a violent slashing movement I opened the heavy curtains. Little Blaise whimpered at the sudden light, but was soon soothed by his mother's caressing hand. Carolina looked to me with dead eyes.

I glared back.

"Get up," I snapped sharply.

"Why?" her whisper struggled to reach me as I whipped round her room expelling dust from her trinkets, banishing clothes to her wash basket and floating empty glasses onto high shelves where little fingers couldn't reach them.

"You bloody well know why. For Merlin's sake, what have the house elves been doing for the last three days?"

"Why?"

She raised her head this time, but her question was no stronger than it had been the first time. I steeled myself again to glare.

"Because you have a funeral to go to."

She began to lower herself to the bed again. Angrily I snatched the child from her and cradled him in my arms.

That at least got her attention. Thank goodness. She snarled and reached for me with curled nails and fire in her eyes. She wouldn't hurt me, especially while I was carrying Blaise, but all the same, I took a step back. My voice came, cold and clear.

"I'm going to give him to a house elf, though Lord knows where they are given the state of your room, and they are going to dress him. And then I am going to come back and dress you and you are going to go out there and pay your final respects to the man who loved you and fathered your child."

She crumpled at my words. Her shoulder slumped and tears washed away the inferi state my best friend had drowned in for days. Without giving her any comfort, I strode from the room. She needed to come to terms with this on her own. I would be there for her as much as she needed but she had to do the hardest bit herself. She would either get through this or she would break. She could accept he was gone or...

Faces of the people I had lost swam momentarily before my eyes. Angrily I shook them away. There was no time for them. Carolina needed me.

By the time I returned she was sitting up. Wet tracks lined her cheeks, with strands of her hair sticking to them.

"Why are you making me do this Cissy?"

I nearly gave in. She looked so pathetic. How could I be sure she was up for this? Wouldn't it be better to let her stay here and sleep away her pain?

But she couldn't sleep forever. And the pain would be waiting, worse than ever, when she woke up. No matter how long she hid, Blaise would still be dead.

She didn't let me sleep. When Andro-

Again I cut off my own thoughts and dragged her towards the mirror. Facing her own reflection she tearfully asked me one more time.

"Why?"

I allowed a trickle of sympathy to escape the reservoir.

"You'll never forgive yourself if you don't make an effort to look good for him one last time."

Briefly I squeezed her shoulder and set to work.

Her hair was twirled in an elegant chignon, laced through with tiny lilies, no bigger than my thumb nail. Her perfume too was lily scented. And a lily broach was pinned to her robes. It shone against the rich black material.

She stared at herself in the glass.

She looked at her beautiful face. Her beautiful hair. Her beautiful self and whispered words I was sure Blaise had whispered to her.

"Beauty is what you're famous for, Regina. Let them see how beautiful you really are."

For the first time in days she stood up straight. She squared her shoulders and the determined glint that always resided in her eyes returned. Carolina was back.

She gave her hair a few tweaks and her make up a few smudges. Just to show she could. To prove to me she could better the work I had done on her. To remove herself from my debt.

"Where is my Bambino?"

A house elf was called. Little Blaise was carried in, dressed in black robes no child that age had any right to be wearing. He stared at his Mama with wide chocolate eyes that mirrored her own. He didn't understand. He didn't know where his Daddy had gone. He didn't know why his Mama had been less than a shadow of her former self. He didn't know anything of thieves or muggles or death. He just reached for his Mama, a silent plea to be lifted and cared for. And he stared. Would Draco stare at me like that, if Lucius...

Yet another thought to be banished.

I couldn't falter yet. I still had to be strong. Carolina was no longer a zombie but I was certain she still needed me.

I was right.

At the funeral she threw herself to her knees in front of his grave, screaming. All the sorrows of the world were heard in her wails as she sobbed for the man she loved and clutched his son to her breast. Only one onlooker made a move to stop her. I grabbed Cossette's arm as she tried.

"Let go of me! She's shaming my brother."

She could barely choke out the hissed words behind her own sobs. They caught in her throat. Because once again Cossette was jealous. She wanted to collapse on the ground. She wanted to scream and wail. She wanted the world to know how she missed Blaise just as much as Carolina. But she wasn't as brave as Carolina. She couldn't let herself act so. Not in front of all these people. So she was jealous. Jealous of Carolina's ability to ignore the crowd and give voice to the pain within.

"Leave her," my voice was gentle, but out of sight my hand curled around my wand. "Let her be with her husband one last time.

Cossette gave a near silent sob and I pulled her into an embrace. She had just lost her only brother and needed my comfort. Which I gave.

As the funeral party drifted back to the Zabini Manor, I let a crying Cossette wet my shoulder with her tears as a prostrated Carolina wet the fresh soil with hers.

Eventually they managed to stop their tears. Both at the same time. Carolina rose, with an unearthly grace, Little Blaise still possessively held against her and approached us.

Her eyes bore a hole into Cossette's.

"You were a good sister to him."

Without another word she, disapparated.

"You were a good wife."

Cossette's words were heard by no one but the wind and myself. I doubt if even she heard them. But I did. Just before she followed Carolina to the wake. She said them.

And that night I wondered if I was a good wife. Or a good sister. I thought of all the people I had lost, the people I allowed myself to name just this once. Daddy. Rosaline. Regulus.

Andromeda.

Lucius held me while I cried and I added one more name to the list.

Blaise.