The Untold Story of Kyra Malfoy

Epilogue

August, 2017

It took about a year for me to feel relatively normal without Kyra around. The hole in my chest still ached whenever I moved, but it had become usual for me. Occasionally I came across a person who still had memories of Kyra, but I quickly took care of them. I had to watch as my Draco was turned into a Death Eater and forced to try and kill Albus Dumbledore, as our home was invaded by Lord Voldemort and used as a headquarters during the second war.

I'd never liked the Death Eaters or the Dark Lord, but never before had I been filled with such a loathing and hatred for them. I was a dark witch and used dark magic often, but I'd stopped after I saw what it had turned my family into—what it had turned my son into. I was not about to lose another child.

I knew the Potter boy was alive when I bent over him even before I examined him. His body was too warm, and, although he tried to hide it, I could tell that he was breathing. I pressed my hand to his chest and felt his heartbeat, my thoughts confirmed. I had no desire to win this war. In fact, I wanted Voldemort to lose. I didn't want to live in a society where fear and lies ran rampant.

All I cared about was my family.

"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"

I held my breath with anticipation until, almost inaudibly, "Yes."

My hand squeezed him for a second, and then I turned around and declared him dead.

To this day I still feel an immense amount of pride at being one of the primary reasons for the Dark Lord's downfall. Due to my actions and the fact that Lucius, Draco, and I did not participate in the fighting spared my husband and son from having to spend time in Azkaban. Lucius remained bitter and filled with hatred. Our relationship never quite healed.

Draco, on the other hand, repented for his actions. His brief time with the Death Eaters disillusioned him from the lifestyle that his father had so glorified. He was basically estranged from any friends that he'd had at Hogwarts.

His saving grace was Astoria Greengrass. She and her sister Daphne were two of the very few Slytherin students that had sneaked away from their house to join in the fighting. Astoria helped him to see past his views of Muggles and Muggleborns, and showed him how to be a good person. I liked Astoria immensely, and was extremely pleased when Draco proposed to her. She reminded me of Kyra, with her kind manner, stubbornness, and dark hair.

Theodore did end up marrying a Greengrass girl, as he'd fallen in love with Daphne. They had two children: a dark haired minx named Adrianna and a stoic boy named Cecil, who was my grandson's age.

I absolutely adored my grandson Scorpius. He was the spitting image of Draco, yet seemed to have inherited Astoria's gentleness. He would be going off to Hogwarts soon.

Shortly after the war ended, we'd had the Manor torn down because of the terrible memories that lived in its walls. A slightly smaller Manor was rebuilt in its place. After Draco and Astoria were married, Lucius and I'd moved out of the Manor and into a two story house on the outskirts of Wiltshire. I visited them often.

I was returning home from one of these visits when something inside me guided me toward the town. I didn't fight this urge. I'd learned long ago to trust my feet. While walking, I enjoyed the usual hubbub of the streets. As I looked around, however, I accidentally forgot to look where I was going and ran into someone.

"I am terribly s - " I started, but froze when I looked at the woman.

She had a round face and a pale complexion. She appeared to be about Draco's age, perhaps a year older. Her hair was raven black, and when she looked at me her eyes were silver.

"Pardon me," she said apologetically in a voice that I would recognize anywhere, even after all these years.

She reached around her and a young girl around the age of ten stepped around the woman, looking shyly up at me. She had her mother's raven hair, but green eyes. Looking at her, I felt like I'd suddenly been transported back into my past.

I returned my gaze to the woman and my eyes spied the pendant on her necklace: the initials "KM" in silver.

"Would you humor an old woman and tell me your whole name?" I asked breathlessly.

She scrunched her eyebrows together in confusion and replied, "Kyra Estelle Murphy-Johnson, ma'am."

The breath left my lungs and I staggered. She reached out and steadied me, worry in her eyes.

"Are you alright? Perhaps you need to sit down for a moment. Come with me, and I'll get you something to drink."

I didn't have a chance to speak, and Kyra led me and the little girl across the street and into a small coffee house. She ordered two herbal teas and a glass of milk, and then we sat down at a table.

"I'm sorry for ordering for you, I should've asked," she said in retrospect.

I shook my head. "No, it's fine. Herbal tea is my favorite."

She beamed, and my heart melted. "Mine too!"

"I don't like it," the little girl said, twisting her face up with disgust. "It tastes funny."

"And what is your name?" I asked her.

"Natalie Johnson," she replied smartly.

"That's a very pretty name," I told her. She smiled, and then the waiter arrived with our drinks.

"I suppose Murphy is your maiden name?" I asked Kyra.

Kyra nodded and played with her necklace, a slight blush tainting her cheeks. "I've had this necklace for as long as I can remember. Pam - my adopted mother - told me that it was from my birth mother. I didn't want to completely change my last name because...well, because I felt I would lose what little connection I had left to her." She laughed. "I supposed that sounds rather silly."

I shook my head, tears in my eyes. "No. It sounds beautiful."

Kyra smiled at me, and then we got to talking about her childhood. She was found as a baby and raised by a woman named Pam. She couldn't remember her childhood until she was about ten years old, but she figured that was due to old age. Pam homeschooled her until she was ready to go to regular school, where she met her husband, Thomas Johnson. They separated when she went on to higher education, but reunited when she came back to town.

"I'm sorry," Kyra said suddenly, looking embarrassed. "I never asked you your name."

"Narcissa Malfoy," I replied.

Kyra blinked and paused for half a beat, and then smiled. "Nice to meet you!"

She gazed down at her watch and looked apologetically at me. "I'm sorry, but we must get going now. I would love to meet again with you, though."

She and Natalie slid out of the booth and I waved at them. "Goodbye, little Tiger Lily."

The name slipped out before I could catch it. I didn't even remember that nickname until just then. Kyra stopped and something was flickering in her eyes. Her eyebrows were pushed together and her expression was one of extreme confusion as she tried to remember something. Then she gave up, smiled at me, and left.

I sat there for a little while longer, and pondered the miracle that my Kyra was still alive. I thought back to that night when Lucius had come home with the letter and fabric. In my grief and anger, I hadn't noticed the resigned slump of his shoulders or the sadness behind the walls in his eyes. Then the realization dawned on me of what must've happened.

Lucius did love Kyra. I knew it. And no matter how much he'd tried to deny it, the feeling was still there. He did raise her and love her as his own, and nothing - not even blood prejudice - can stop love. He must have modified her memory to forget us and put her in the hands of a capable woman who would raise her and love her and give her the life she deserved.

Eventually I left the coffeehouse and returned home. I sat beside Lucius on the couch, where he was reading the Prophet. I put his arm around me and kissed his cheek.

"I love you," I told him.

He looked surprised. We hadn't been affectionate with each other for many, many decades.

"And I love you, Cissy," he replied, kissing my forehead.

I settled in and closed my eyes, feeling content and happy for the first time in far too long. And something else surprised me as well. I finally felt the hole I'd been living with for so long start to close. I loved my husband, Draco was happy, and my little girl turned out to be alive.

Yes. I suppose it was fate after all.

Yay for cheesy endings! So Lucius had a heart after all =)

Thank you to those who reviewed - you kept me going. Eternal love and gratitude to you.

~Kicon

PS. Remember in the beginning I told you to pay attention to the colors? Well, here are the meanings:
White: innocence
Yellow: flashy, fake, gaudy
Green: hope, dreams
Gray: gloom
Blue: deception
Black: evil
Red: passion