A/N: Thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews!
Sorry about last week, I had some RL issues come up and couldn't post. You can always find me on Tumblr as jessiyl, a place where I post update info and sneak peeks and other, humorous, slice of life stuff frequently. Because my life is full of craziness…
Updates will be every other week for a while. Hubby and I are house hunting and I am packing and chucking all the crap we have accumulated that we don't want to take with us. And that is on top of everything else.
20
Previously:
"Where are Abraxas and Sigurd?" Hermione asked, looking around and noticing their absence.
Shrugged shoulders were her only answer.
**HGHG**
"Damn it!" Hermione muttered, thrusting the ruby into Harry's hand and closing his fingers over it. "You are going to have to go without me. Why don't you bring them both to the Manor when you are done and we will figure everything out together?"
Harry nodded, looking lost and pissed off and defiant all at the same time.
"To activate the portkey, you have to say the magic word." She continued, smirking and moving back out of the way. Sirius reached out, as Harry opened his fist so that the ruby sat undisturbed in the center.
"Do you mean 'please'?" Harry asked but was gone in a flash of blue light. Hermione had only a moment to stare in the place where they once stood and regret not being able to go with them but perhaps it was better this way. They were all family and she, she wasn't.
Whipping around, Hermione made for the castle, bent on finding Abraxas and Sigurd. She picked up speed, weaving through the fallen and those still fighting. Something wasn't right, and she had a feeling that it was part of the plans that had been kept from her. Pushing herself faster, Hermione began to panic. Why couldn't she be involved with their carefully wrought plans? Now it was so clear in her mind. Why else would they keep it from her unless it was because she would stop them from carrying it out?
From across the green, Hermione was hailed but she was desperately trying to find her family and ignored all summons, hoping that she would just know where to go. She sprinted into the castle and skidded on the fallen jewels and glass. It was eerily quiet; the only noise was the breaking of the shards of glass underfoot.
"Point me ut mea," Hermione murmured as she laid her wand flat against her palm. After a moment of spinning, her wand abruptly stopped, pointing up the moving staircase. She took the stairs two at a time, flying upward, and prayed that the castle would ease her passage.
Luck seemed to be on her side as she made it to the third floor and a hand reached out from an unused classroom, dragging her inside. She squealed at the attack but quickly settled once she saw who the hand belonged to. Abraxas closed the door, shutting them in the dusty room together.
"Abraxas? What in the world are you doing?" Hermione asked breathlessly.
"What I've wanted to do ever since the last time," He groaned and pushed her back against the door, burying his hands in her hair, and lowering his lips to hers. In this way, he cut off any protest she might have made.
She pushed at his chest, trying to force some space between them. It wasn't that she didn't want him, or didn't like what he was doing to her. It was his timing. They were, after all, in the middle of a battle-the battle.
His body was solid and unyielding as he pinned her against the solid wood of the door and his hands held her head unmovable. Hermione spiraled down into the feelings that he was bringing out in her and she began responding in kind.
Voldemort was already destroyed, Dolohov was dead, Bellatrix was gone, and the Order was rounding up the rest. All of a sudden, she wasn't sure why she was protesting at all. Hermione lifted her arms and wound them around Abraxas' neck and moaned into his mouth when his hands left her hair and skimmed over her body. Heat flared in his wake, a trail of tingling nerves that stroked the pleasure center of her brain.
"Brax," Hermione moaned as he sucked her lower lip into his mouth, nipping and licking the plump flesh.
His fingers were nimble as he unbuttoned her robes, hurriedly pushing the fabric off of her shoulders and down her body to pool at their feet.
Hermione reached between them, slowly, agonizingly unbuttoning each of his buttons one at a time. She dragged her nails over his chest, pushing the shirt out of the way. And her breath caught as her thumbnail scraped over his nipple, hardening the pink flesh instantly.
"Fucking perfect," He mumbled, and Hermione heard the click of his belt being undone.
Once his hard cock was free of his trousers, he lifted her leg and wound it around his hip, gripping her tightly where the lace of her stocking was clipped into her garter. His steel flesh was hot and heavy on her mons as he trailed kisses from her abused lips to her neck. Arching her neck, Hermione gave him unrestricted access.
Her breath caught as he nibbled on her skin, leaving stubble burn in his wake. It was exquisite, and she found herself spiraling downward into a haze of lust and desire and need.
Taking himself in hand, he teased her sensitive clit through her knickers, growling into her shoulder. He was just as excited as she was, ready and wanting. Together they groaned as he moved aside the material of her knickers and sank into her slick heat. It was like all of the tension and fear from the day built and built until they were nothing more than the needs their bodies craved. Slowly, he drew out of her before thrusting hard, hitting her cervix and back wall.
"Merlin," Hermione choked and let Abraxas hold her weight as she shifted and wrapped her other leg around his hips. Pushing back against the door, Hermione ground down on his cock. "I needed this."
Abraxas hands gripped her soft arse, pulling her on his cock, moving faster and faster. Pounding into her warm and willing body. The tendons in his neck strained against the skin and sweat dripped between their naked bodies.
"You feel incredible," He grunted, keeping up the brutal pace.
Hermione shattered, screaming unreservedly her climax as wave after wave of pleasure threatened to drown her in bliss. Her muscles pulsated around him, clamping hard on his cock, and Hermione rolled her hips, keeping the friction on her clit. Abraxas threw back his head with his own orgasm, his thrusts slowing to irregular jerks as he coated the inside of her body with his seed.
Hermione dropped her legs and pressed back against the door and Abraxas moved with her, dropping languorous kisses on her shoulders. They were both panting heavily, trying to catch their breath.
"You were absolutely magnificent, Love," He murmured lazily into her ear. Hermione chuckled, running the tips of her fingers over his still chest through the gaping robes that he left only partially undone in their haste to sink into each other.
"Why did you leave the greenhouses so quickly?" Hermione asked when reason started to come back to her. Now that her head was clear of all the stress of before, Hermione started putting things together and narrowed her eyes. "And why do you and Sigurd keep disappearing on me? Keeping things from me?"
Hermione bent down and retrieved her discarded robes and ducked under Abraxas' arm that was resting against the door beside her head. She needed the space to think clearly, and she flattened her lips into a single thin line as he tried to hide a grimace.
"What the hell is going on?" She demanded through clenched teeth, the high of orgasmic bliss evaporating in the light of this new thought. "You didn't fuck me against the door to distract me from something else, did you?" her tone a clear indication of danger. But Abraxas was a smart man and having the experience of being previously married, knew that his only option was to deny any involvement. However, if he did that, he could kiss his relationship with this incredible woman goodbye. There is no way she would suffer a fool in her bed.
He bent down and pulled his trousers up, taking his sweet old time fastening them and securing his belt. He was still facing the door, the only way out of the abandoned classroom and considered bolting.
Lowering her voice further she bit out, "I know you are not going to try and keep me here,"
"Answer one question for me and I will let you out of this room,"
Hermione stared at him, her teeth unhealthily clenched, and she folded her arms over her chest, tapping out an impatient rhythm on the stone floor with the tip of her shoes.
"If you had to choose between killing an innocent child or letting a great evil walk the earth, what would you choose?"
"What are you saying?"
"If you could go back to when Riddle was a child before he went to Hogwarts, would you kill him?"
Hermione froze, her mind whirling with questions.
"There is no way to go back in time that far. So, it is a moot point."
"What if it was possible? What would you do?"
Hermione vacillated, wondering what she really would do. Taking a deep breath, she mulled over his question, not knowing why her answer was vital. How could her answer possibly matter?
"Well," she muttered slowly, keeping her annoyance in check. Was he just wasting time? She shook her head. This seemed too important to him. "I don't know. On one hand, he is just a kid and hadn't made the choices that would set him on this path. There is still the possibility that what we come to fear would never pass. But we know, coming from the future, that it happens. By killing one child, we could save hundreds, maybe even thousands of lives. Even knowing that, how can we execute a child? No. No, if I had the opportunity, I would rather take him, and raise him myself. Perhaps if one thing changed, it would make all the difference."
Abraxas nodded and moved away from the door. Hermione frowned and brushed past him, opening the door, stopping only when his large hand settled lightly on her shoulder.
"The Astronomy Tower. Hurry," Abraxas turned away from her and buttoned up his Oxford, tucking it into his trousers before reaching for the buttons of his robes. Confused, Hermione rushed out of the room, setting a course for the Astronomy tower, even if she didn't know exactly why.
**HGHG**
Harry landed on his arse on the floor, and Sirius sprawled across him. Sirius sat up and groaned holding his head in his hands, trying to stop the dizziness inspired by the portkey and his unexpected travel. Portkeys were something that needed to be prepared for, dammit! Harry shook his head, looking around the room, eyes drawn and focused to the two wands pointed at them.
"Harry?" James asked tentatively, joy and wonder flooding his face.
"Dad?" Harry jumped to his feet and his heart was desperate to escape to freedom up through his throat.
"Harry!" James said pulling his son into his arms for the first time since toddlerhood. Harry wrapped his arms around James and hugged him back fiercely. He had no idea how or why his father was alive but despite all the confusing feelings, he was overjoyed. There would be plenty of time later for the logistics, something that he would wait to hear from Hermione. He had no doubt that she would quickly get to the bottom of everything and overwhelm them all with practical explanations.
"Where is Eliza?" Regulus asked, his wand and eyes locked on his older brother.
"With Hermione. Voldemort is dead. I thought you were dead," Sirius stopped, too choked up with all of the emotions welling within him, preventing him from articulating his thoughts. They stared at each other for several moments before Sirius threw his arms around Regulus, pulling him tightly into his chest, thumping him on his back.
Regulus stood shocked, his wand trapped between them.
"I thought you hated me," Regulus said, wincing.
"I hated what you were becoming. I hated that mum turned you into the perfect little Death Eater, but when Harry found out that you tried to destroy one of his Horcruxes, I realized I had you all wrong! If I hadn't left you to bear the brunt of mums crazy ideologies, perhaps you would have lived. I blamed myself for so long," He reached out hooking one of his arms around James and Harry, pulling them into the huddle. "Prongs! My best mate! I can't believe you are alive!"
"Why didn't you come get me?" Harry asked James. "Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon hated me. You have no idea what my life was like!" Harry angrily spat. He started getting himself justifiably worked up. As happy as he was that his father was still alive, he was also furious at the childhood that he could have had and was denied.
"That night was and still is a blur to me." James began mutedly, mumbling into Harry's shoulder. His fist was gripping the back of his shirt, turning the knuckles white. "I remember the killing curse coming straight at me?and I remember dropping to the floor as the spell passed over my head. It was a close thing though, I have a bald strip on the left side of my scalp. I don't know why Voldemort thought I was dead. I don't know. Maybe he was so certain that his aim was true or maybe he was too focused on you and your mother upstairs. All I know is that I was paralyzed. Perhaps it was a side effect of brushing against the killing curse. That was Dumbledore's theory anyway. I heard Lily plead with him, beg him to kill her instead and oh Merlin, how I fought against the paralysis that held me immobile.
When he killed Lily, I thought maybe, just maybe, she survived like I did. I could hear your confused baby cries, but I couldn't move to check on you. The house rocked and exploded when the curse rebounded. Dumbledore filled in those gaps afterword. I watched Sirius and Hagrid come in turns and take you. I'll never convey to you how it felt knowing that everyone thought I was dead. Later on in the evening, Dumbledore came to the ruins and collected Lily and me.
It took several hours of laying in Hogwarts infirmary before Poppy Pomfrey realized that I wasn't dead just paralyzed and Dumbledore and Pomfrey worked tirelessly to restore me. Immediately upon getting myself back under control, I was screaming for them to unfreeze your mother. Except, she was not just paralyzed; she was dead.
Grieving, I let Dumbledore take me to a safe house, believing that you and I would be reunited. You have no idea the anger I harbored against that man for an unholy amount of time. I knew you would not fare well with Petunia and I begged Dumbledore to release me every time he came to check on us.
One of the enchantments on the safe house was that only the holder of the ruby could come and go freely, and he was always oh so careful to keep it out of my hands. You see, Lily died in a way that provided you extra protection but only if you considered your home under the guardianship of your mother's blood and Petunia was all that was left. You can ask Regulus, I never stopped trying to sway him, never!"
"And me? I sat rotting in Azkaban for twelve years Prongs, for yours and Lily's death. Why didn't you tell him that it was Pettigrew?" Sirius asked accusingly.
"I did," James said, his brows drawing together with confusion. "I recounted the whole tale to him that night, the first night he sequestered me here with your broody brother."
"Dumbledore left me in Azkaban, on purpose?" He sputtered.
James shrugged his shoulders devastated that he was unaware his best mate spent the better part of his adulthood in Azkaban and Sirius looked at Regulus nonplussed.
"He knew Riddle would come back," Harry said slowly, thinking of all the meetings and secrets he shared with Dumbledore. "He needed me to have that protection. It saved my life in my first year. I was able to kill Professor Quirrell with my bare hands, not that I intended to do that. Sirius was my Godfather. If he was innocent and out of Azkaban, I would have lived with him. He must have kept you there for that reason."
"Bloody hell," Sirius murmured. "I don't know whether to kiss his robes for keeping you safe or resurrect and kill him for leaving you with the Dursleys and me in Azkaban for all those years."
"In third year, when the Ministry had you locked in that room, waiting for the Dementor's kiss, Dumbledore was the one who prodded Hermione and me into using her time turner to go back and save you and Buckbeak. I don't believe he wanted you there. He was first and foremost a general in this war. He may have been a shitty person, but he is the reason we were able to win this war at all." Harry muttered.
He had come to terms with Dumbledore a long time ago and even now knowing the extent of the duplicity, Harry held staunch to his beliefs that Dumbledore was human and fallible. But ultimately, he worked to destroy Tom Riddle. Who else would have been able to track down those memories about the Horcruxes, without which, they would still be hunting for them? They wouldn't have even known how many or what they were. It would be so easy to vilify Dumbledore, after all, he deserved it, but Harry refused to do that. Dumbledore was a sad old man who lost everything long before he was born.
"We could do this all night," Harry said, knowing that Dumbledore was neither good nor bad, he was a mixture of both as all people were. "but let's get out of here. Hermione said to meet her at Malfoy Manor, so that is what we will do. I imagine Eliza will be there." Harry held up his hand and the brilliant ruby sat innocently sparkling in his palm and the others reach out, putting only a tip of their fingers on the gem.
"Please," Harry muttered, taking James and Regulus out of the safehouse for the first time in sixteen years.
**HGHG**
Hogwarts seemed to want to help Hermione and moved her quickly up floors and before she knew it, she was climbing the astronomy tower. Voices floated around her in disjointed starts and stops. One deep and soothing, the other high and frightened.
"Daddy, it hurts!" a pained whine pierced through the air.
"It will be over soon son,"
Hermione went cold, knowing what she knew of the Death Eaters and what they did to their own children, not even to mention what they did to those of lesser bloodlines. Refusing to leave the child to his own fate, Hermione barged onto the tower, wand in hand.
Two dark heads swiveled in surprise. Rabastan Lestrange sat on the floor holding out a clear chalice of a smoking virulent green liquid to the toddler on his lap. The child could have been a carbon copy of his father, all except the bright blue eyes that he shared with his mother and his delicate build.
Rabastan froze, the smoking concoction billowing around them.
"What is going on here?" Hermione asked teeth clenched. Afraid that Rabastan would hurt Bastillion if she moved too quickly, she inched toward the pair. Rabastan missed nothing and raised his wand, settling the tip against the fine black hair on his son's head. He shook his head at Hermione and she stopped in her tracks.
A child indeed, Hermione mused. Abraxas had sent her here only after she said she would have saved and raised Riddle differently if she had the opportunity. So, how did that tie into the scene she walked into?
Hermione dropped her wand arm against her side and moved a step back but kept her narrowed and focused gaze on Rabastian, his wand, and the smoking concoction in his other hand.
"What potion is that?" She asked, keeping her voice even for the child on the Death Eater's lap.
"Just a little something that our master created for my young son here," He murmured, a slight smirk tilted his lips and twisted his face into something grotesque. Hermione desperately tried to hide her revulsion from Bastillion, who was looking at her curiously. "Drink up, Bast."
Bast turned his head and wrinkled his nose, not wanting to drink any more of the yucky stuff in the cup that made his whole body hurt.
"Don't," Hermione warned but Rabastan held all the cards. He tightened his grip on his wand that was pointed at his own son and muttered demandingly into the toddler's ear.
"Drink it, or you will be punished for disobeying Daddy."
Bast's eyes went wide and round, obviously no stranger to his father's harsh disciplinary practices. Hermione felt sick and didn't know what to do. On one hand, she could attack Rabastan, but she had no doubt that he would be quicker and wouldn't even hesitate to hurt his and Luna's son. On the other hand, if she did nothing, she would be allowing Bastillion to drink the potion. She had no idea what that potion even was.
Bast brought his lips to the cup and squeezed his little eyes tightly shut as Rabastan tipped the green liquid into the boy's mouth. Hermione stood, impotent and horrified, watching as Bastillion drank. Once he drained all the liquid from the cup, he began to whimper and buried his face into Rabastan's chest. Rabastan set the glass off to the side and brought his hand up to rub the little boy on the back. It was tender and sweet and was at complete odds to how he had treated the boy earlier.
"It was a restorative. Yesterday, the Dark Lord summoned us and gave us orders. We were to stay in the Astronomy tower with this potion and if he was somehow defeated, Bastillion was to drink a goblet full. The Dark Lord is tethered to my son, but he couldn't draw from the boy without killing him. But his soul is in Bast's body. The boy has no idea, even though they share a stronger and more tangible bond than the Dark Lord did with Potter. My master has lost all of his memories and has merged with Bast. He will rise greater than ever before."
"Luna is dying,"
"A sacrifice, a mother's defense,"
"Are you telling me that Luna knew that Riddle and Bast were tethered?"
"Of course, it was Luna who told us about Narcissa being released from the tether. But even without that, the Dark Lord knew. You won't be able to break this bond so easily, not without killing the boy anyway."
"You are sick! He is your own son!"
"And what better show of loyalty to my master than to offer my own son's body and magic?"
Bastillion fell asleep and began snoring, his little head resting against Rabastan's chest. Hermione stared horrified and it made her sick, watching the Death Eater soothe the little boy in his lap.
All at once Rabastan stood up and laid the boy on the floor tenderly, switching from targeting his son to the woman who stood across the way.
"I have to leave now, take good care of my son, Hermione Granger. For his mother's sake," Madness gleamed in his eyes as he retreated to the battlements and grabbed the broom leaning against the crenellations. With a last twist of his lips, he was plummeting in a freefall, the broom securely between his legs. Hermione rushed to edge and flung curse after curse trying to land one on the retreating Death Eater. She growled as he expertly pulled out of the dive and evaded her spell-fire.
Screaming with all the rage of the last few days, electricity drew from the very air and crackled around her. Lightning struck despite the clear day, raining from the heavens, answering her call of fury. The unnatural storm followed Rabastan and he began to fear for his life. He spells sailed past as he serpentined through the white ropes of lightning.
Others drawn by the lightening of the clear day, noticed Hermione throwing spell after spell and began sending volleys of their own at him. He did well and was nearly out of the anti-apparition zone when a purple rope of lightning hit the tail of his broom. The crash and burning of his broom jarred him sufficiently and he watched as his wand plummeted to the ground, mere meters from his fingertips.
He hit the ground with a crash and the Order came running. They only stopped when they approached him, grimacing at the mass of gore that once was a man.
Hermione watched dispassionately as Rabastan fell to his death and when he landed with a crunch, she turned away, knowing that she was the reason this boy, Luna's son, was now an orphan. She had killed both of his parents and she knew deep within that this boy would be protected and raised as if he was from her own body. And she would prove to the world that Tom Riddle, under the right conditions, would never become Lord Voldemort.
Hermione scooped the little boy into her arms and tiredly plodded down the tower, heading to her men. In the back of her mind, she wondered where Sigurd was and hoped that he was okay.
**HGHG**
Sigurd wrapped his hand around his other wrist, keeping pressure on the puss filled wound and cursed Greenhouse three to hell. He had become twisted around in the labyrinthine halls of Hogwarts, not having the pleasure to attend. At one time, the founders had the infirmary in the south wing on the seventh floor, and believing that it was still there, made him waste precious time. The venom was spreading, and he panted as his veins began to calcify, his blood coagulating and turning a thick oozing black marbled with yellow pus.
Sigurd snorted. It was not the gravest wound he had ever recovered from, but it was fast moving, and his provisions were just slightly out of reach. Once again, he damned his unreliable future-sight and trotted determinedly down to the fifth floor, his second best guess.
It was with quite a bit of luck that he ran into Abraxas. Abraxas merely raised a single brow and rolled his eyes at the wandering wounded Viking.
"Snape is in the hospital wing," He drawled, gesturing to the swollen red bite on his arm.
"I know. I just couldn't find the infirmary." Sigurd muttered, pink tinging his cheekbones as he turned his face away in embarrassment. Abraxas shook his head, bemused. "Did Hermione find them? She wasn't too early, was she?"
"No, I made sure she didn't arrive until the proper time."
"Good. I don't think she would forgive herself if that boy died." Sigurd murmured.
"That boy will become her son in many ways. Are you prepared to raise the boy who is Tom Riddle?"
"I've told you over and over again, there is no path for that boy with Hermione as his mother where he turns dark. That boy will be lauded for his contributions to wizards all over the world one day."
"I guess I will have to trust your word. It did get you here after all,"
Sigurd snorted. "Glowing praise coming from you, Brax."
"Don't call me that,"
"Hermione does,"
"Only when she is on my cock,"
"Touché," Sigurd smirked and exhaled loudly when Abraxas pushed open the door to the infirmary. Snape stood over a small cot, a white sheet in his hands, as he covered the face of the dead that lay beneath.
"Miss Lovegood died," Snape said dispassionately. It wasn't his way to show his emotions for all and sundry to see.
"We knew she would," Sigurd muttered and approached the cot, muttering the death rites of his clan. He closed his eyes and placed his forefinger and middle of his left hand on her forehead, leaving behind a small white starburst.
"What is that?"
"A runic ritual for the dead. It was something my mother taught me. It should have fallen to my father, but he died when I was much too young and it was my mother who shouldered the burden."
Snape inhaled sharply, spying the bite on Sigurd's forearm.
"Cutting it a bit close, aren't we?" Snape drawled, pulling an anti-venom from his robe pocket and handed it over to the strange Viking.
"This damn castle," Sigurd muttered as he uncorked the vial and tipped the potion into his mouth. Sweet relief flowed through his body as the potion began its healing work immediately.
"It would have been damnably embarrassing for you to die of Tentacula poisoning," Abraxas said as he picked at his nails.
"Aren't you a peach today," Sigurd murmured. "Oh, by the way, Snape, have you given a dose to Narcissa yet?"
Snape snapped his head around, a dangerous glint in his eyes and a clenched jaw, his only answer.
"Fucking bloody woman!" Snape muttered, flying from the infirmary and into the castle to search for his love, the woman that wasn't supposed to be there in the first place.
**HGHG**
Eliza smiled at Draco as she watched him lay Bellatrix's body in one of the many rooms of the Manor.
"Were you close?"
"With Aunt Bella? No. I think that would have been terrifying."
"Hermione seems to have a soft spot for her. Regulus seems to think that she is a Death Eater and a threat."
"She was. Hermione's relationship with Aunt Bella is complicated. Honestly, it was messed up. My Aunt Bella did unspeakable things to Hermione."
Eliza approached the body and settled the limbs more naturally, smoothing her robes.
"I owe this woman more than you know," Eliza muttered quietly. Draco froze, turning his full attention on his soon to be mother-in-law. "When they came for Richard and me, she was there. She gave us a choice that night and she was a part of the reason I am alive today. She told us that we could both run and be hunted down, Death Eaters on our heels or one of us could go free while the other stayed and endured for as long as possible. Of course, Richard being Richard wouldn't have ever entertained the idea that I would save him. He had ideas about chivalry and gallantry. Stupid man,"
She stopped talking, too overcome to continue. After a deep breath, she whipped a tear off her cheek and took a shuddering breath. "I didn't know who she was at the time. She was hooded but her voice… I'll never forget her voice. When Richard and I came to an agreement that I would be the one to run, she lifted her wand and warned him. 'this is going to hurt and you will wish for death many times before you actually do. Good luck.' I ran for my life. It was the first time in my life that I was jealous of my daughter. Never did I burn with the desire to be a witch as I did that night. If I was magical, I could have fought back, protected my family."
Draco hugged her, patting her back awkwardly like the nineteen-year-old he was. He had no idea that his crazy Aunt Bella let anyone go, especially in those days. It was even before the torture chamber warped her mind.
Eliza pushed away from Draco and patted him on the cheek, smiling through her tears.
"I wish there was some way to pay her back, something that I could do for her…"
A great gasp of air rang through the room, startling both of them out of the tender moment. Their gazes were torn from each other and flew uncomprehendingly at Bellatrix, the once dead body that was once again flushed with life and sitting up unassisted. Draco and Eliza stared, jaws hanging nearly to the floor.
**HGHG**
Narcissa sat on the floor, her back against the wall, Mulciber's unconscious body on the floor next to her. She laughed tiredly and wiped at the trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth.
She had come to the castle to find Severus and to take on of his anti-venoms and ran quite literally into one of the men who used and abused her. It was a fight for her life and she won. Little good that did. As she sat alone on the floor, she knew that she was dying and that it was too late for her to find Snape. Unless he miraculously showed up with a potion, her last moments would be spent looking in triumph at Mulciber's fat face.
She felt herself turning to stone from the inside out and coughed. It hurt to breathe. Stars floated in her vision and she rested her head back against the wall. She chuckled dryly. It figured that her life would end here, like this. A tragic childhood, a horrendous marriage, a torturous captivity, only to finally die from a half-wild Venomous Tentacula. It was a fitting way to die, shitty but fitting.
Closing her eyes, she slumped over, her breathing getting shallower as she fought for each breath. It wouldn't be long now. Her lips curled at the corners as she thought about Draco when he was small; her one bright light in her life.
He was one of those children who went about their life zooming from one thing to another, never ever sitting still, never doing what he was supposed to be doing. There had been one year when Draco was three that Narcissa thought she was going to lose all of her hair from the stress but every time she would hit that point where she was either going to end up in a nut house or prison for murder, Lucius would step in, grab the boy and send her off to the spa for a weekend. And every time she returned, she didn't know who was happier, Draco or Lucius.
They had many good years together, her and Lucius. It may not have been what she wanted from a partner, but they had found a rhythm and more, and there were times in the last two years that she longed for them back.
These days, she was thankful to Hermione for returning them to life and she got to see Draco again. It was all she ever wanted.
Narcissa slid further down the wall, her breath shallow and slow, blue-tinged around her lips. Severus rose haughtily to the forefront of her mind. That man was the epitome of everything that she wanted in a man, in a lover, in a husband, and she regretted bitterly not having the chance to see what it would have been like to have been his.
