He's My Son
Narcissa Malfoy was terrified. She'd been terrified for nearly two years now. Her son, her world, had become a Death Eater. He was to young, and now she had no idea where he was. She couldn't focus on anything that was happening around her in the Forbidden Forest as she stood with the others, waiting for Harry Potter.
She could only think of Draco.
Narcissa had been in the large sitting in their large manor room reading a book while her two-year-old soon Draco played on the floor. Lucius's wand lay on the end table, where he appeared to have forgotten it. She didn't notice as the little boy stood up and toddled over to the end table and picked up his father's wand. Draco waved the wand around, causing sparks to shoot from the tip, drawing Narcissa's attention.
"Draco, no," Narcissa said, standing up and walking over to her son and kneeling down next to him. "You know you're not supposed to play with Daddy's wand."
"Look, Mama," Draco said cheerfully, waving the wand causing more sparks to fly from the tip. "Pretty."
Narcissa chuckled and said, "Yes, Draco, very pretty, but Daddy wouldn't like it very much if he knew you were playing with his wand."
Draco's eyes began to water as his mother gently took the wand from him.
"Draco," Narcissa said soothingly, pulling out her own wand. She waved it and sparks flew from the end, and Draco clapped his hands enthusiastically.
"More, more!" He shouted gleefully as his mother sent more sparks from the end of her wand.
"So, did you have fun at the Quidditch match?" Narcissa asked five-year-old Draco as she tucked him into the bed.
"Yes, Mummy," Draco said, but Narcissa sensed something was still wrong.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"Why couldn't you come to the game?" He asked.
"You don't want me at a Quidditch match, Draco. Besides, didn't you have a good time with your father?"
"Yes, but I still wish you would've come."
"I'm no fun to be around at Quidditch matches, trust me." Narcissa chuckled. "Now, it's time for you to go to sleep."
"Goodnight." Draco said sleepily.
"Mum, I know," Eleven-year-old Draco groaned as his mother repeated, for what felt like the hundredth time, that he needed to be careful while he was at Hogwarts and to make sure he wrote, etc.
The Malfoy family was on platform nine and three-quarters and Draco was about to leave for his first year at Hogwarts.
"Alright, alright," Narcissa said. "Just let me fix your hair."
"Mum!" Draco whined irritably, pulling away from his mother.
"Narcissa, Draco's a big boy, now let him go." Lucius said smoothly to his wife.
Narcissa sighed as she watched her only son board the Hogwarts Express. A tear slid smoothly down her cheek as she watched him go.
"Draco, you don't understand!" Narcissa yelled at her sixteen-year-old son.
"Yes, I do, Mother!" He yelled back.
"You're to young! You don't know what it's like!"
"I'm sixteen, and Dad's been one since the first time!" Draco argued.
"And look where he is now!" Narcissa fired back.
"Him and the other's will be out in no time, and you know it! Besides, I won't be like that."
"Of course not, because if you do this, you'll be dead!" Narcissa shouted tears gleaming in her eyes at the thought.
"I will not, He believes I can do it, why don't you!" Draco bellowed.
"I just don't want to see you get hurt." Narcissa said in a quiet voice, dropping into one of the sitting room chairs.
"I won't." Draco said confidently.
"You don't know that." She said in a weak voice, as tears began to pour out of her eyes.
"Mother, it's done, I don't have a choice." Draco said quietly, pulling up his sleeve and showing her the dark mark now imprinted on his flesh, and Narcissa cried even harder at the sight of it.
Draco cautiously walked over to his mother and knelt down next to the chair where she now sat sobbing.
"Why don't you believe in me?" He asked quietly.
Narcissa didn't answer, she just wrapped her arms tightly around her son.
"You!" The Dark Lord called. Narcissa screamed as a wave of pain coursed through her body for a moment. "Examine him. Tell me whether he is dead."
Narcissa approached the apparently lifeless Harry Potter, who was now laying on the ground. When she felt his chest, she could feel the steady beating of his heart.
Making sure her hair blocked his face from view, Narcissa whispered to him, "Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"
"Yes," The boy whispered back. Relief swept her body, and now she knew what she had to do to get back to her son.
"He is dead!" Narcissa yelled.
As the Dark Lord fired curses at the boy, she silently prayed that he would remain apparently dead. And he did.
When they finally began the journey back to the castle, Narcissa could only think about her son. She could only hope that the boy had told the truth.
The battle was over. The Dark Lord was dead. But none of that mattered to Narcissa. All that mattered was that she had her son back by her side. The Death Eaters may have lost, but Narcissa felt she had one the greatest victory of them all. Nothing could compare to the joy of seeing Draco alive.