Written for QLFC Season 11 Round 1, Beater 1/Captain

Main Prompt: Write about receiving a gift or message from an unknown source.

Optional Prompts: 2. (object) message in a bottle, 12. (emotion) defeated, and 13. (weather) rain

Word Count: 1706

Warnings: Death (not worse than cannon)

~wWw~

From birth, Narcissa knew that many close to her family believed insanity ran in their blood, and when she was around Aunt Walburga, she could understand where they were coming from. But Aunt Walburga was the exception in their insanity, or maybe just an extension of the real insanity. Seer blood ran through their veins and, in some cases, like Walburga's, drove the host crazy.

In each host, the magic of the seers presented itself slightly differently. To some, the foretellings of the future came in feelings; for others, they physically saw the future, but for Narcissa, they came in a bottle. They didn't come in just any old bottle. They all appeared in her first baby bottle, a bottle which was a family tradition to frame and hang above the child's head anytime they slept in their childhood home.

None but Narcissa could see the messages within the bottle, and as such, it went unnoticed for many years until one night. Narcissa was watching the ceiling above her and heard a small thunk, then the rustling of paper. Carefully, she stood atop her pillow to reach up and pull the frame from the wall.

Within the bottle sat a slightly crumpled piece of parchment paper containing her first glimpse of the future.

Throughout the years, Narcissa continued to receive these glimpses of the future, but her first night back at the manor after Draco was born was when she received the most important one yet.

The note was slightly different than usual. Usually, it was written on a clean, albeit slightly crumpled, piece of parchment in neat loop writing. The parchment's edges were burnt this time, and the writing was sharp and harsh.

A time will come when you must lie to the Dark Lord to save your son's life. Do not hesitate.

~wWw~

For years, the words written on that parchment haunted Narcissa every waking moment. Her son, her pride and joy, would be in danger. His life would depend on her ability to lie to a man who would kill anyone who even hesitated in their answer.

Every interaction with the Dark Lord left her reeling, hoping that wasn't the moment she needed to lie to save her son.

"Prepare the guest rooms," Lucius demanded, not a moment after he arrived back at the manor after he met with the Dark Lord. Narcissa's attention was quickly drawn away from the book she was reading, the pitter-patter of rain against the window, seemingly slowing down for a moment.

"The Dark Lord has decided that we will be his hosts…for the foreseeable future," Lucius said, his face an emotionless mask. Narcissa's face fell, her eyes lifelessly drifting towards the window, watching as the rain seemed to fall in time with her heartbeats. Blood rushed through her ears. This couldn't be happening, right? Everything she had worked for was jeopardized by the idiot she called her husband.

"You can't be serious," Narcissa hissed after a moment, her posture straightening as she pushed the lingering feeling of defeat from her mind.

"Narcissa, it's the Dark Lord. I can't say no!" Lucius said, his stormy eyes tightening as he looked towards his wife. Narcissa stood, her eyes lingering on the raindrops running together down the glass before turning to look towards her husband. While most pureblood wives were subservient to their husbands, Narcissa was born a Black. She wasn't afraid to tell her head of house when she disagreed with him.

Tightening her shoulders, she gently clasped her hands across her stomach. Everything seemed to still as Lucius waited for her to speak. The air seemed to thicken as Narcissa lifted her head slightly to speak before pausing.

"Lucius, do you understand how much more danger this puts our family in? Our son, your heir?" Narcissa asked deliberately, choosing her words carefully in an attempt to play to Lucius's paternal instincts. Bile rose in her throat as she awaited her husband's response.

"Are you daft? I couldn't refuse the Dark Lord. He wouldn't just kill me; he'd kill all of us. Especially your precious son!" Lucius growled, growing more and more upset with each word he spoke. His composure coming undone as he lost his temper.

"I understand. I will prepare the manor," Narcissa said carefully, sensing that she had pushed too far. She could not do anything about it; it had already been decided, and now she had to support her husband. Her knuckles whitened as she struggled to keep her posture composed, desperately trying to hide the defeat that filled her at the thought of having to live in the same place as the Dark Lord.

Gliding through the solid wooden door frame and away from her husband, Narcissa's facade fell. Her neutral expression while talking to Lucius dropped, leaving behind a worried woman who appeared far older than her years.

~wWw~

Narcissa stood at the foot of her childhood bed, staring at the bottle. The small glass bottle had delivered her advice for the future for as long as she could remember, but now, in this moment when she needed it more than anything, it remained empty.

Her fingers trailed over the now-familiar writing, the once-unknown handwriting seared into her mind. Her precious son's future, within her hands, resting on her shoulders. Resting on her ability to lie, to trick the most cunning of Slytherins when she herself barely managed to be placed in Slytherin.

She squared her shoulders and turned on her heel, feeling the familiar pull of apparition. The twists and turns before she arrived back in the entryway of Malfoy Manor, a place which, within hours, would house the Dark Lord.

Pushing the lingering feeling of defeat deep within her mental walls, she strode towards her son's room, directing the various house elves she encountered along the way to ensure that everything was perfect for the Dark Lord's arrival.

"Draco," she called, knocking lightly on his partially open door.

"One moment," he responded. She waited, debating the words she wanted to say. He pulled the door back with a hand, his other stowing his wand in his pocket.

"Mother," he greeted with a short nod of his head. She looked over his dark robes lined with green accents with an approving smile.

"Be careful," she warned, then in a more affectionate tone, "you have done me proud." Draco stood frozen for a moment, his face not betraying the shock that filled him nor the joy that followed.

"Thank you, Mother," Draco said. He lifted his arm, presenting it to his mother just like his dad had taught him when he was just a boy. Taking his offered arm, she allowed him to guide her down to the sitting room where they would welcome the Dark Lord into their home.

~wWw~

Narcissa stood slightly before her husband, her mind far away from where she stood. Her heart raced as she worried for her son. The war was ending soon. She could feel it. Feel it in the magic, the way its once turbulent presence had started to calm. Had she missed it? The chance to save her son. Was he already dead, a body amongst those littering the floors of Hogwarts?

The soft thud of footsteps just ahead of the Dark Lord pulled her attention away from thoughts of her son's dead body and back to the present. Thick oak trees loomed over the group, their branches protecting them from the steady fall of rain from overhead.

"No sign of him, my Lord," one of the younger death eaters remarked. Everything fell silent. She couldn't even hear the breathing of the other death eaters who surrounded her, only the tiny pitter-patter of rain on the thick foliage overhead.

The Dark Lord took a few paces forward, his steps completely silent. Bellatrix broke from the rest of the death eaters, joining him, her hair appearing more frazzled than usual.

"I thought he would come," the Dark Lord said, turning back towards his followers. Bellatrix looking at him with a tilted head, backing slightly and bowing her head as he turned towards her. Just as he looked ready to give his orders, there was a crunch behind him. Echoing out in the stillness of the forest. He turned slowly, trusting that the foolish Gryffindor would not strike him down with his back turned.

The death eaters glanced at each other with quick eyes, confused at how one could have so little regard for their own life. Bellatrix grinned, her hair seemingly crackling with excitement. Narcissa could feel her heart pounding in her ears. This was it.

"Harry. No, what are ya doing here!" Hagrid called out, raising his once forlorn head to look at the boy he had watched grow up. He was quickly silenced as Harry continued walking towards the Dark Lord.

Harry and the Dark Lord stood staring at each other for a moment. Magic seemingly crackled in the air around them, almost sensing the evitable showdown between the pair. Harry swallowed tightly, his eyes fixated on the Dark Lord.

"Harry Potter," the Dark Lord started, pausing momentarily, 'the boy who lived. Come to die." There was a flurry of noise, as everything that went silent returned. Rain fell faster against the trees above. Leaves rustled in the wind.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Bright green shot out from the Dark Lord's wand, catching Harry straight in the chest. Everything fell silent again as his body crumpled to the ground. Narcissa felt the despair begin to well up in her chest again.

The Dark Lord was pushed back by the force of his spell, falling back onto the marshy ground. Bellatrix quickly helped him up as everyone moved towards him. As everyone else was focused on the Dark Lord, Narcissa moved towards Harry.

"The boy. Is he dead?" Bellatrix hissed out. Narcissa could feel everyone's eyes on her as she crouched down over Harry's body. His chest expanded slightly as she looked over his form. This was it.

"Draco, is he dead?" she asked in an almost silent whisper. Harry's head moved almost imperceptibly in the negative. She slowly stood the despair that haunted her for so long falling away as she turned to face the Dark Lord.

"Dead."