Chapter Four: "You Said 'Rot In Hell, You Sanctimonious Old Bitch.' It Was Quite Dramatic."
Narcissa Malfoy was not what most people would describe as a decent human being. She had spent her whole life conforming to the standards of pureblood society, whether she liked it or not. Passed from her father to her husband like a pretty little doll, she had been told to submit to a man's will since birth. When her only son was born, she realized she would be under the power of yet another wizard and more dangerously, this one would hold her heart in his tiny little hands. As Lucius pulled further and further away from her in the years following Draco's birth, Narcissa took comfort in the fact that she had finally found her niche in life and it was being a good mother. Whenever possible, she herself saw to the child's needs instead of elves, much to the disapproval of the other pureblood wives. Narcissa didn't care that the worst thing people said about her was that she loved her son too much.
It was this bond with Draco that caused the older witch to awaken at such a time that the sun was not yet peeking through the gauzy curtains guarding her windows. The same bond caused her feeling of uneasiness as she slipped on her silk house slippers and matching robe to sneak down to the dungeon, where her precious son had been imprisoned against her will by her husband. Clutching the robe closer to her pale body as a chill set in, Narcissa made quick work of the lock separating her from Draco.
"Lumos"
Her wand provided a meager light as to not startle the two occupants and forced herself to walk slowly into the stony prison. Frowning, she spotted the mudblood girl sleeping next to her son, almost intimately. For Draco's part, he didn't seem to mind the closeness but thankfully kept to himself, separate from her. Blue eyes continued to watch the pair as they slept for a few moments, noting that there weren't enough blankets for the coming weather. Something was pricking her senses, something very vital, but she couldn't place a finger on it. Coming closer to the young man in front of her, she smiled at the relaxed expression on his handsome face. It was a rare thing, even before his imprisonment.
Leaning down to brush her lips against his forehead, Narcissa's brain screamed at her. 'He's rather cold….so very cold…like ice.' Suddenly, her heart fell into her stomach and burst into tiny jagged pieces as a mother realized her child was no longer in this world and had passed through the Veil. Falling back numbly on her bottom, the witch shoved her fist into her mouth, biting as hard as she could to muffle her own scream. Her breaths came faster as she moved to his chest, hyperventilating when she placed her ear on top and no beating of his heart sounded. Tears began to cloud her vision as her shaking hands flew to Draco's face, caressing the boy's cheeks as if to bring warmth back to them. Finally, the sobs began to rack her frail frame as she collapsed onto his too-thin body and realized he would never wake up again.
Someone was wailing.
Rather loudly.
Next to her?
Hermione tried to focus on opening one amber colored eye, which was proving to be unreasonably difficult. "Draco?" she slurred, her mouth slack and uncooperative as well. 'Does sex normally make a person so utterly exhausted? How dreadful!' she thought, annoyed with the unresponsiveness of her body. The wailing quieted. Finally succeeding in gaining her vision, Hermione was quite shocked to see Narcissa Malfoy looking frightful as she clutched Draco tightly. Bloodshot icy eyes pierced her core as her own eyebrows furrowed. How could Draco not wake with all the racket his mother was making? A niggling in her brain caused her to sit up look closer at her blonde lover.
"Draco?" she asked in a frightfully small voice. "What did you do to him?" Narcissa narrowed her eyes at the filthy witch. "What did you do to my son?!" She screamed her voice hoarse from crying. Reaching blindly for her discarded wand, the older witch thrust it at the girl in front of her and impulsively let a curse fly, not caring if she killed her. Hermione's arms instinctively flew to her face as if she could ward off any danger, and a most mysterious thing happened.
A small ball of light appeared instantly at her stomach, countering whatever Narcissa had sent, and dispatched it back to the shocked blonde. Hermione couldn't believe her eyes when the Malfoy matriarch was sent forcefully back from Draco and landed in an undignified heap on the freezing stone. Hermione's hard breathing was the only sound for a few moments. "No," the fallen witch whispered, almost to herself. Hermione moved to stand, but was not quick enough before Madame Malfoy came upon her. "NO," Narcissa hissed incredulously, lifting up the brunette's tattered jumper.
Staring her in the face was the bloody rune of Malfoy, smeared on the stomach of a witch of no wizarding birth. Hermione couldn't believe what she was seeing. Question after question ran through her brain but her mouth couldn't utter a sound as she saw Draco's mother begin to cry anew. A flood of emotion filled the Gryffindor as it finally sunk in that Draco Malfoy was dead. A boy who was barely a man, who took her innocence only hours before, lay lifeless before her. Her slight shoulders sagged and the breath left her lungs.
Narcissa continued to stare at the blood rune, knowing now what had cost her son his life. 'My poor Draco….he was desperate….he knew the Dark Lord would never let him live…' she mourned sorrowfully. A small, very small, bead of hope blossomed in the cold witch's chest. It was always too late for Draco, but Narcissa had held out hope that he could be spared. It was obvious that her son hadn't had the same hope and did the only thing he could to insure his blood's survival. But no matter how unappealing the choice was, at least Narcissa knew a piece of Draco would live on, she would make sure of it.
Coming to her senses, Narcissa grabbed Hermione by the shoulders and hefted her to her feet. "Listen to me, Mud-Miss Granger. My son sacrificed his life so that a piece of him would live on in you. You will not do anything to harm my grandchild, or so help me, I will drag you back to this miserable dungeon myself and you will wish for death everyday of your miserable life, do you understand me?" Narcissa grabbed the muggleborn's chin hard, forcing complete eye contact. Hermione could only nod, unable to process what was being said to her.
Clutching her wand tightly, Narcissa dragged Hermione up the stairs and kept her close as she spirited them towards the front door. Whispering the counter-charms to the manor's blood wards, the blonde dragged the hours pregnant witch across the gates of Malfoy Manor and instantly apparated them out of danger.
Andromeda Tonks was still quite the formidable witch even in her middle age, and not one to be crossed when awoken from her sleep abruptly. Since the death of her husband only months before, Andromeda slept very little and was easily awoken by the sounds of footsteps approaching her home. Clutching the wand from under her pillow, the dark eyed witch crept stealthily down the stairs and into the kitchen, where the footsteps stopped just outside her door. A moment passed before a hesitant knock sounded. "Who's there?" she asked forcefully, her wand at the ready.
"Andromeda?"
Her ears perked at a voice she hadn't heard for a very long time. Frowning, she pointed her wand at the door. "What was the last thing I told Mother before leaving Black Manor permanently?" she questioned harshly, not believing her youngest sister was outside her door. A long pause sounded. She got ready to blast the door before a voice finally answered.
"You said 'Never have I been happier to be a muggle's wife than in this moment. Rot in hell, you sanctimonious old bitch.' It was quite dramatic."
Smiling briefly to herself at the memory, Andromeda took a deep breath and opened the door to see her pale sister in a dressing robe and…Hermione Granger? Allowing them access to her home, she quickly summoned a first aid kit. "What the hell, Cissy?" she muttered as she began treating the petite witch's injuries and stopped at her scarred arm. Lifting it so her sister could see, she shook the arm at her accusingly. "Really, Narcissa? Was this necessary?"
"Bellatrix always did have a way with words."
Tut tutting to herself, she continued to clean the ugly scarring before Hermione finally decided to speak. "What did he do to me?" She asked quietly. Both witches gave pause. The elder Black sister raised a dark eyebrow at the younger Black and Narcissa silently raised Hermione's jumper up to show the blood rune. Both black eyebrows jumped up into Andromeda's hairline as the blonde carefully lowered the jumper back down. "So….Draco is…?"She asked carefully, the look of grief crossing Narcissa's face answering her question.
"You are carrying the next Malfoy heir, my dear girl. It's an ancient spell only few purebloods have ever used. Haeres Genitus. The Begotten Heir," Andromeda gently answered the 19 year old girl. Hermione said nothing. "It's a spell so powerful that it takes the life of the caster as payment. If the scion of a House is in mortal peril, and it is unlikely he will survive for much longer, the wizard can give his life essence to a woman so she will conceive an heir. Of course, the chances of a woman being in close enough contact for conception to occur is extremely slim, so this spell is very very rare. Most purebloods have forgotten about it over the centuries," the witch continued to explain.
Hermione laughed bitterly, surprising both women. "Yes, I guess the chances of sex occurring while one is in 'mortal peril' would be quite slim, wouldn't it? Aren't I just a lucky girl? Not only did I allow Draco Malfoy a pity shag in the hopes of neither of us dying as virgins, but I got a bonus prize: a baby which required a blood ritual and the life of its father to be born. Whatever shall I name him?" she spat out, glaring at Narcissa. Hermione felt angry. In fact, she had never been more livid in her life. She had been deceived by a man she thought she could trust, and the consequences of her blind loyalty would ruin the rest of her life.
'Merlin, I'm such a stupid, bloody Gryffindor!'