I shove my way through the mass of bodies as quietly as possible. I cannot call out, the hall is too silent for that, and I would cause a scene. Even now, even here, I cannot bring myself to create a scene, though it would probably find him alot quicker.

That's all I want, all I've wanted for so long, now. I can see Lucius doing the same as I am, pushing through the crowd, searching for our son. He's on the opposite side the the Great Hall, of no help to me here. I feel as though I may break down, collapse onto the cold stone floor, if I do not have his arms around me now. I must make do, as I stumble into Rodulphus, his hands grabbing my elbows with a quick "shush." He points me in the right direction, wishing me a soft good luck as I once again set off. I will not forget this.

In the center of the room, two duels are going on. One, my beloved sister. The other, my hated Lord.

Just the sight of him makes me sick to my stomach, as he fights off the Potter boy. I wish he would drop dead, and save us all the grief. I wish he would drop dead, so that my son may live.

If he didn't die when they, they're "they" now not we, surged the castle.

I hear a strangled cry from the opposite side, and turn to see my husband embracing our son, patting him down, checking him for wounds. Draco looks horrified, his beautiful eyes wide in the candlelight, his face slightly green as he watches the scene in the middle of the room. He barely seems to realize Lucius is there.

I run, pushing people out of my way, sending more than a few sprawling towards the floor. I almost scream his name, but Lucius spots me, holding his finger to his lips.

Then there's a scream.

"Not my daughter, you bitch!"

I stop mid-stride, turning back towards my sister, just as she falls to the floor with an audible thud. I hear Rodulphus gasp, along with a few other movements on their side. None seem all that concerned, except for Him, and neither am I. I can grieve for her later.

Draco is all that matters now.

I continue on, until I collapse into my sons arms, relishing the feeling as they fold weakly around my body, pulling me closer.

"Mother..." His voice is strange, half torn between sadness and horror. I wonder if it's because of Him, or Bellatrix. It's a bit of both, I decide.

Lucius' arms move around the both of us, hugging us to his chest. I can hear Fenrir Greyback, "They'll get theirs," and I feel Draco flinch. I ignore the werewolf, though I hear Lucius growl.

"It doesn't matter, Lucius," I whisper, my voice painfully dry sounding. "He's safe. It's almost-"

Cheers erupted around us, the screams deafening.

It was over.

I loved writing this. Narcissa's thoughts may have been a bit repetitive, but that's alright. She was desperate.

Did you like it? Review, if you did. If not, review anything. I can take criticism.