Chapter One: The Battle of Hogwarts

Leaves crunched under expensive, leather heels with the weight of a small woman. She walked quickly, confidently for any tremble or sign of trepidation would open the flood gates for overwhelming and all consuming anxiety - and that, she could not allow.

The forest was cold for early May and otherwise quiet, save for the sound of her footsteps. She struggled for breath, assumed she must have been gasping audibly because how could she be so calm when someone had removed all of the oxygen from the air?

Narcissa Malfoy came to a stop before the figure slumped on the forest floor, kneeling by its side. Resting her hands on its chest, she waited a moment before-


Harry Potter was alive. The boy who lived has lived once more. She could breathe again. Not because she was overly fond of Mr Potter, of course. But because Mr Potter was her chance to find Draco. Anything else was just a bonus.

"Is he alive?" she whispered, moving closer to his body. If anyone heard her, or saw Harry respond, they'd both be killed on the spot. Under the guise of a closer examination, she asked him once more.

"Draco. Is he alive?"

Harry finally gave a slight nod, enough confirmation for Narcissa, but not at all noticeable to the crowd of death eaters behind her. She rose slowly, working quickly through the thoughts in her head before making her decision. An expression of indifference returned to her face and she turned, only glad to have the chance to be reunited with her son.

"Dead," announced Narcissa, eyes landing on her husband who let out a sigh of relief. Bellatrix and Voldemort celebrated in a rare display of glee, almost dancing in response to the applause and cheers from people she once called friends.

He was just a boy - just like Draco. Almost exactly like Draco, in that her son was only a month older than the Potter boy. She almost felt sorry for him.

Rubeus Hagrid's loud tears only fuelled Bellatrix's laughter further, and while she and Lucius walked sombrely at the front of the crowd, her older sister skipped with delight. It was not dissimilar to the delight she had expressed when she killed Sirius Black.

As she held her husband's hand tightly, Narcissa was surprised not to hear her inner monologue criticising the half giant for such outward emotional displays. Narcissa was bored of judgement, for what was truly the point? How could she justify years upon years of suffering whilst her sister roared with laughter over the death of a child? She would have been just as gleeful if it was Draco's fallen corpse being carried in Hagrid's arm - because to Bellatrix Lestrange, any betrayal of the Dark Lord was punishable. Blood didn't matter to her if she was spilling it in her Master's name.

Arriving in the courtyard, she ignored her sister, and the Dark Lord and everyone else, for that matter. For she only wanted to find her son. Horace Slughorn, the Weasleys, Poppy Pomfrey, Hermione Granger - but no Draco? Perhaps he'd had the sense to flee.

The youngest Weasley let out a cry of despair at the sight of Harry Potter, but Narcissa remained stoic. She knew differently, had examined his body herself - that said, she knew only too well the fear of losing Lucius. How poorly she would have coped if Voldemort would have killed her husband, the man she loved, which was not yet out of the question.

For a brief moment, Minerva McGonagall's eyes locked onto her own, offering her a look of... pity?

McGonagall had always liked her, said she could have amounted to big things if only she didn't follow in the footsteps of her sisters. Narcissa Malfoy was a good student, particularly adept at Transfiguration and Defence Against the Dark Arts. But unfortunately, working was not an option for a pureblood of her standing and she became Lucius' trophy wife - not that she minded, for she loved her husband as well as the respect the pair commanded. Would she have lived such a life of luxury had she not fallen in love with Lucius and taken up a teaching role, for example, at Hogwarts? Unlikely. She's also have been struck off of the family free much like Andromeda and Sirius.

Minerva's eyes snapped back to Voldemort and Narcissa's mind went into overdrive.

Why had the professor looked at her so?

But Narcissa barely had time to consider her own question, before a familiar boy appeared before Voldemort and proclaimed his loyalty to Harry Potter. Neville Longbottom his name was, had been the son of Alice and Frank Longbottom - as good as orphaned by Bellatrix Lestrange. Tortured into insanity, Narcissa thought it a real shame to treat pureblood witches and wizards so. Were they really beyond help? They were blood traitors, but they weren't... muggleborns. Even the Weasleys weren't worth killing.

"-They didn't die in vain! But you will! Cause you're wrong! Harry's heart did beat for us! For all of us! It's not over!" Neville yelled, pulling the sword of Gryffindor from the disgusting old hat he had been clinging on to since their arrival. His face held a firm look of defiance which changed to one of pure glee when Harry pushed himself from Hagrid's arms.

"Confringo!" the boy yelled, pointing his wand at the Dark Lord's snake. Narcissa didn't even wait for the Dark Lord's wrath, for she knew she was in trouble. Instead, she darted towards the castle - ignoring both her husband's cries for her to stay back, coupled with the overwhelming feeling that Lord Voldemort knew of her betrayal. She pushed those thoughts to the back of her head and focused. All that mattered was finding Draco.

The Order of the Phoenix aimed curses at Voldemort's followers, and Narcissa had her hand on the wand (which still felt foreign to her after over 30 years of her own) ready to deflect spells if need be. She needn't have worried, for no one felt particularly threatened by her presence. Instead, they fired spells at her husband, her sister, at all the men and woman who had outstayed their welcome in her home over the past 18 months. As long as Lucius lived, The Order could have lined the rest up and shot them one by one with an unforgivable curse for all she cared.

What a horrible thing to say about ones sister.

She ran along the entrance corridor, as fast as her tired legs could carry her, and downstairs into the dungeons. Luckily no portrait was guarding the common room, for she doubted the passcode had stayed the same since her last day of school in 1973. She entered the common room, approaching quietly with her wand held out front.

"Draco," she hissed, looking around her nervously. Her hand shook a little and the world spun on its axis. No, not right now.

"Homenum revelio," came a whisper she barely recognised as coming from herself.

Recognising she was alone, she flew back out of the door and up the stairs, fighting against her gut which told her something was very, very wrong. She repeated this motion with every door she could access - popping her head round the door, calling for her son and checking to see if he was hiding before running to the next. But to no avail, he was nowhere to be found.

Dashing into the nearest room, Narcissa Malfoy was surprised to find respite. The Great Hall was surprisingly quiet in light of the chaos unfolding behinds its heavy doors, but she relished the chance to sit down, if only for a minute or two. Her appetite had been poor for months, and the decision to skip breakfast this morning and dinner last night finally catching up on her. It was hard to find an appetite of late with a snake slithering across the table and goblins lying slaughtered on the floor.

A crash came from outside the doors, and she was to her feet with her wand drawn almost instantaneously. The wand had been acquired by Bellatrix after she had given Draco her beloved wand - but its core was rejecting her. She was used to her loyal unicorn hair wand, and the dragon heartstring was really no good. The wand got the job done, but beyond the battle she'd have to see about replacing it.

Arthur Weasley's head came round the door, eyes flickering around the door and moved around the wrecked, debris filled room to settle on the smaller woman. He let out an involuntary sigh of relief, knowing she was very unlikely to harm him and lowered his wand.

"Mrs Malfoy, I'd move from here if I were you. There's some of your lot heading this way."

She mirrored the lowering of his wand and tilted her head to the side in confusion, "Aren't you going to-"

"No," he said abruptly. "Find your husband."

As quickly as he had appeared, he left and with that, her period of respite was over. She poked her hear around the door and determined the coast was clear enough to sprint up a flight of stairs she hadn't yet tried. Her heart pounded painfully against her chest, body straining against levels of physical activity she hadn't really known (why should a bystander have to maintain great fitness, after all?). Somehow she was able to find the strength to deflect a spell cast at her by a Hufflepuff student and continue on her path.

She recognised a number of death eaters and order members duelling in the corridor, hoping she could slip into a classroom unnoticed - garnering neither side was particularly fond of her at the moment. Two bodies slumped to the floor in defeat and the Order members sprinted in the opposite direction, probably hoping to save the day somewhere else in the battle.

Scanning a number of rooms in the corridor, Narcissa began to feel tears well up behind her eyes as worry consumed her.

Where the hell was Draco?

All of a sudden, a sharp pain consumed her body and her feet lifted from the floor. She was propelled backwards, limbs stiff with pain and she landed on her back with am agonising crack. Narcissa Malfoy was unconscious before her head even hit the floor.

Thank you for reading! I'm hoping to make this fic really long, so do follow if you want to keep up :) & be kind and constructive in comments.

I've also left the health service, so time to start doing what I enjoy. Please let me know if there's anything you'd like me to write. I love you all - stay safe x