Family Pride

"Draco?"

The heavy teak door of her son's bedchamber eased open silently under the barest of touches, which surprised Narcissa. Seldom did he leave it so readily accessible, even to his parents.

"Draco, are you all right?"

It was a foolish question to ask, but she could think of no other way to find out why he had Apparated back into the manor without so much as a salutation. Severus had appeared moments later, telling her to go to her son with not a word of explanation.

No response emerged from the silent room, so she opened the door a little more and stepped across the threshold. A fire was flickering in the grate, the only other light cast by the moon, silvering the pale, thin figure, which was standing by the window.

"Draco? What happened?"

Paler than she had ever seen him, her son's face turned to hers and she was horrified to see his eyes were shimmering with unshed tears. His arms were wrapped tightly around his body, his knuckles bone-white.

"He's dead," he whispered. "The... D-Dumbledore... he's dead..."

Narcissa's stomach felt like it had been pulled in a knot. "Oh, Draco..." She wanted to move, to take him in her arms, smooth his hair, tell him he shouldn't regret what he'd had to do, but she couldn't move, could barely even breathe.

Her son was staring at her, no, he was staring though her, as if she wasn't even there, as if he was seeing something playing over and over again in his mind.

"He... he was there... I-I was there... I was meant to..." He shook his head, as if unable to articulate what he was trying to say. "He didn't even have his wand..." The tears clinging to his eyelashes splashed down his cheeks, unnoticed. "He... was talking to me... talking like I mattered... like he knew me... like he cared..." A shuddering gasp ripped through him. "He knew why I was there..."

Narcissa's teeth ground together. How dare he manipulate her child, how dare he make her son feel such guilt, such pain! "He was trying to change your mind, Draco, trying to make you weak," she said softly.

Draco blinked stupidly, as if becoming aware of her presence for the first time, then shook his head. "He wanted to help," he said, as if hardly daring to believe it. "He... he said he could keep us... keep you... and father safe... and... and I wanted to believe him..." He was shaking. "I did believe him..."

"He was lying," Narcissa whispered, staring at her son in disbelief. He had to be lying. Surely, not even Dumbledore would have taken her husband under his protection, surely he would not have cared. He knew what they were, what they believed. It... surely, it had been a lie.

"He said he would hide us!" Draco's voice was shrill, emphatic and quaking with emotion. "He said he would! All of us and then... and then he would never have been able to hurt you or father!"

Her hand leapt to her mouth, smothering her gasp. Whether it was at the treacherous thought of running from the Dark Lord, who had wrought such vengeance on her family, or knowing that her son had been threatened with her or her husband's deaths, she could not tell.

"He said he could do it... then the others came..." Pale hands tightened in the dark fabric of Draco's torn and bloodied robes. "Greyback... and then Professor Snape... and he... he said please, but... but Professor Snape..." Grey eyes stared blindly at the floor. "He... was just... there and then he was dead." His pale lips trembled. "I never saw anyone die before."

Lowering her hand, startled to see it was shaking, Narcissa approached her son. "It was what the Dark Lord commanded. It was your life or his... you deserve to live more than a sentimental old fool like that."

"He said he would protect us," Draco repeated stubbornly. "You and father would have been safe."

A flash of anger flooded the witch. Had Dumbledore somehow enchanted her son, filling his head with such disillusion? "If he had such power, how was he so easy to kill?" she demanded, her voice as shrill as Draco's, "Do you really think he could protect us when he couldn't even protect himself?"

Wild-eyed, her son stared at her. "At least he didn't threaten to kill me for doing something wrong," he mumbled, sagging back against the wall. "He wanted to help me, even when I was going to kill him. The Dark Lord... he would kill me if I did anything wrong..."

"Don't think such things, Draco!" she whispered feverishly, staring around the room, as if expecting the shadows to bleed away, revealing the Dark Lord standing there. "Our loyalty is to the Dark Lord!"

"Why?" Draco's voice broke. "Why do we have to be loyal to him?" He was choking on his sobs now, tears shining on his face. "We don't get a choice anymore, do we? We have to be loyal or we die!"

"Draco!"

The panicked anger in his mother's voice made the boy recoil, shrinking back against the dark wood panels of the wall. His expression was taut, frightened, and he flinched when she reached out to touch him. "You know it's true," he whispered.

Narcissa laid her hand against his cheek, waited until his eyes met hers. "I know," she said softly. "And I know it's too late to turn back. Where would we go? Do you think Dumbledore's allies would help you now? Do you think they would care?"

Draco lowered his eyes and shook his head. His tears were burning her palm and she stepped closer, wrapped her other arm around her son - so tall and proud, yet still her precious little boy, still so very young.

"He was just an old man," he whispered. "A stupid old man..."

"I know, Draco." Narcissa's fingers gently stroked through her son's hair.

There was a taut silence. "Do... do you think he could have helped us, mummy?" the whisper was so small, so frighteningly child-like, that Narcissa had to squeeze her eyes shut to force down her own tears.

"I don't know," she whispered honestly. "And if he could, even if he wanted to, it's far too late for him now." And us. "But you still have me, my darling. And Severus too." She kissed his cheek softly. "Surely that's better than a silly old man with a head full of folly." Against her shoulder, Draco nodded.

The knock upon the door made them pull apart, Severus appearing in the narrow gap between door and frame. "Narcissa, we have a guest," he said quietly, significantly.

The witch nodded curtly, dabbing the corners of her eyes with the ends of her sleeves and throwing a forced smile at Snape. "We shall be there momentarily, Severus," she replied, her hand capturing her son's.

The door whispered closed.

"I... I don't want to see him," Draco whispered fearfully. "I... I didn't do what he asked me to do. What shall I do if he hurts you? What if he kills you?"

Squeezing his fingers, Narcissa shook her head. "That doesn't matter, darling," she said gently. "You tried and he knows that you are still very young. You've been so brave, Draco... you just need to be brave a little longer." Blue eyes met grey. "Can you do that for me?"

Swallowing hard and scrubbing his eyes with his free hand, Draco nodded. He looked as ill and pale as he had all year, but no longer as shaken as he had when she had entered the room.

"Come with me," she said, slipping her hand from his to take his arm, drawing herself up proudly and smiling sadly as he did the same, so like his father. "Let them see we are not afraid."

Grey met blue and he struggled to smile for her. "I love you, mother," he whispered, as if it would be the last time he would have the chance to say it.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," she responded, the words little more than habit now. "What manner of world would we live in when a son proclaims his love for his mother? For shame." His smile strengthened marginally. "Are you ready to be a decent host?"

Draco's lips tugged slightly upwards. "Until father returns," he said.

Narcissa's heart ached but she squeezed his arm, smiled. "That's my brave son," she said, then - together - they walked towards the door.