Divided Heart

'VIKTOR KRUM RATES BROOMS! IS THE FIREBOLT REALLY THE BEST?' An image of Viktor Krum graced the cover of "Quidditch Weekly", the headlines screaming out advertisements as he waved at possible consumers. Draco Malfoy flipped the page, intent on the articles it contained. A slight smile played about his lips, and it was mirrored on the face of the woman across from him. She was seated on a black armchair, and the book she had been trying to read lay closed on her lap. Long blonde hair fell down her back, and her porcelain features were serene. Narcissa Malfoy watched her son as she lounged in her home, the smell of the meal cooking for lunch wafting into the Malfoys' living room.

She loved her son. He was the image of his father: cool, haughty, and proud. Draco was her only son, and therefore did not have to vie for the attention of his doting mother. She had hugged him when he was small, had regularly sent him sweets, and worried about him as much as any other mother did her child. Possibly more. But there was something else. She and Lucius had taught him pride. He was a combination of Black and Malfoy; the purest of pure bloods. Although she loved him with all her heart, Narcissa did not display anything out of her home. To the public eye the Malfoys had to be rigid, strong, and powerful. As had the Blacks. It was their legacy.

Draco was her and Lucius' son, but he was more than that to her. He was the bridge between what seemed like her past and present life. The stopping point of one and the beginning of another, both centering around two different individuals. Draco reminded her of both these men. As she gazed at her son, Narcissa allowed her mind to wander to days past, long before Draco.

"Bellatrix," a soft voice breathed in her sister's ear as an arm wrapped around each of their waists. "Narcissa."

"Roddy," Bellatrix purred, snuggling up against the LeStrange brother.

"Hello, Rodulphus." Narcissa smiled at the seventh year. "Where's Rabastan?"

"Right here," Rabastan announced, sidling up behind her with Lucius Malfoy. The two LeStranges looked alike, with dark hair and sallow complexions. Lucius, however, stood out. His pale, white-blonde hair hung down to mid-back, and his pale features were sharp and handsome. He was the only one of the three Slytherin seventh year boys who had barely spoken a word to her. Narcissa tried not to let her awe for the youngest Malfoy show. She was, after all, a Black. Blacks had pride.

"Look at that Mudblood." Obvious disdain in his voice, Lucius nodded toward a spot a bit farther down the Hogwarts grounds, where a crowd was beginning to gather. The rest of them turned and as she redirected her gaze, Narcissa caught a glimpse of a girl with long brown hair, and was reminded of her older sister, Andromeda. The blood traitor. Marrying Mudblood filth and disgracing the Black family name. Happy memories of her sister threatened to break down Narcissa's repulsion towards Andromeda, but she pushed them back and maintained her air of cool indifference. She was better than her sister. Although she was only a fifth year, she was considered one of Slytherin's elite, along with seventh years Lucius Malfoy, Rabastan and Rodulphus LeStrange, and her sister, Bellatrix Black. Confirming her superiority, she focused on what the group was now muttering about.

Her gaze became scornful as she realized what she was staring at. James Potter and Sirius Black (her own cousin, as horrible as it was to admit it) were once again torturing Severus Snape, a fellow fifth year Slytherin. If any compassion blossomed within Narcissa she certainly didn't show it.

"I can't believe he's in Slytherin! Dirty half-Muggle!" Bellatrix scowled, her eyes showing her hate for anything impure of blood. "To think the likes of him are sharing a classroom with my poor little Cissy." She sniffed and patted her sister on the shoulder while the others expressed their agreement and disbelief. Narcissa inwardly cringed. Cissy, Cissa...She hated being treated like a child, and that nickname did nothing to help establish her as an equal. Cissy. She hated anything except 'Narcissa' with a passion, though she did not show her displeasure in public.

Snape was, as usual, thrown back, and landed in a bundle on the ground. Potter and Sirius advanced on him, laughing, jinxes flying. Something was strange. The Slytherin was always being humiliatingly defeated by the two Gryffindors--the disgrace!--but he usually didn't go without a fight. This time, though, he lay humbly on the ground, taking the abuse until his two adversaries were right in front of him. As they teased and kicked him, the two bragged and basked in the attention of their fellow students. Suddenly, Snape was on his knees, wand pointed at James.

"Sectumsempra!" he cried and gaping wounds appeared on Potter as he stared, shocked, at Snape before crumpling to the ground.

"Prongs!" Sirius screeched and lunged at Snape, once again knocking him back. As fists flailed and Potter lay moaning on the ground, the Slytherins on the hill were silent. Narcissa stared at the fight below, where a professor had arrived and was tending to the bloody boy, who many a girl was crying over. Narcissa even noticed the vile Lily Evans, who had so effectively turned down James so many times before, looking white in the face. She was impressed. She had never heard of the spell before, and its power amazed her. Narcissa had never really paid much attention to the greasy-haired boy before, although he was in many of her classes, and had always thought him slow. But this carefully played out plan had taken cunning and strategy. Maybe she was going to have to rethink Severus Snape after all...

Narcissa had almost forgotten the memory of how she'd first realized Severus existed. It warmed her heart to think of the times when she'd still been a Black, but even more so, when things had been uncomplicated. Yes, she could see bits of Severus in Draco. His cunning and skill with the Dark Arts. A love for strategically laid plans, and a bit of a show-off. She smiled. But so was his father, and really, herself as well. They were entitled to it, of course. Purebloods had a right to show off their lineage and talents. Of course, purebloods weren't the only ones...

Narcissa sighed, frustrated, as her potion continued to be a frightening shade of magenta, although she had just added essence of hippogriff feather, as the directions had instructed. She had never been the best at Potions, though it did intrigue her. She was surprised to hear the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her. Even more so when she found herself looking into the pale, hook-nosed face of Severus Snape.

He was, of course, now 'allowed' to converse with her. She had learned from Bellatrix that, the night of the fight where Severus had showed his prowess in the Dark Arts, Rodulphus, Rabastan, and Lucius had arranged a meeting with the fifth year. After a bit of questioning, the three boys had learned that Snape had created the spell himself, and were quite impressed. Severus had, then and there, joined the ranks of the Slytherin elite. Although she had seen him when they gathered on the grounds, she had never sought him out, although she found herself noticing him considerably more since.

"Yes?" she asked, confused to what he would want with her. He appeared to be slightly embarrassed for a moment, but quickly brushed it away.

"I couldn't help but notice that you were having some, ah, difficulties with the potion," he replied, voice tinged with a touch of humor. "I thought I would offer my assistance." Taken aback, Narcissa sat silently for a moment. He looked as though he was about to leave, taking her lack of speech for an answer, when she composed herself.

"That would be much appreciated," she answered him, just as silkily, glad the others who mattered were not here to see her lose her poise. Coolly, but with an air of happiness, Severus set to work, helping her fix the potion. They talked as they worked, and once the potion was finished, Narcissa found that she no longer held disdain for this boy she had once so diligently ignored.

"There. All finished." He smiled at her and she felt strangely happy as well. Reprimanding herself, she attempted to shake the happiness away. She could not begin to fancy a half-blood, no matter how intelligent he was. Her first duty would always be to her family and her pride.

"Thank you." She smiled back at him, her attempts to remain emotionless failing. It was nice to have an acquaintance that was her age and didn't make her feel so pressured.

"You're welcome," he said, then hesitated a moment, "Narcissa." He then returned to his potion, a few cauldrons away, which was giving off regular green puffs of smoke. She marveled at his ability to finish so quickly. And those tips and tricks he had shown her...she had to admit, he definitely had a keen grasp on potion making.

"All right now, class!" Professor Slughorn rose and clapped his hands. "Let's have a look-see at what we've accomplished today." As he made his rounds of the room, Narcissa waited with bated breath. Finally, he arrived at her table.

"Why, Miss Black!" he cried happily, after examining her potion. "This looks absolutely marvelous! Well done, well done indeed." Inwardly brimming with pride, Narcissa only allowed a small, smug smile to grace her lips. It felt good to be on top for once, and feel the loathsome gazes of the Gryffindors upon her.

"Perfect as usual, Mr. Snape. You are by far one of the best potion makers I have ever had the pleasure to teach!" Slughorn stated loudly. Narcissa looked over and saw with admiration that Severus was barely even smiling, just looking coolly at the large man in front of him.

"Thank you, Professor," he replied silkily, and Narcissa saw James and Sirius exchange glances of disgust out of the corner of her eye. Good. Teach those horrible Gryffindors a lesson.

"All right, all right. You did very well today, and I will see you tomorrow. Class dismissed." Professor Slughorn chuckled one last time as he looked down at Severus' potion, then slowly began to lumber back to his office. As she was leaving the classroom, Narcissa spotted James and Sirius making a beeline for Snape, intent on the usual sparring match. For some reason, she found herself quickly weaving in the same direction.

"Hey Sni-"

"Come along, Severus. We have better things to do than dirty ourselves standing among the likes of these," she cut Sirius off, arriving at Snape's side just before the two other boys. Severus looked up at her, surprised, then pulled himself together and followed her away. She glanced back and noticed, with satisfaction, that James and Sirius were staring open-mouthed at their retreating forms. She smirked. She was very pretty and she knew that they knew it. Even if she was a Slytherin, they were still boys. She shook her long blonde hair, and could practically hear their brains exploding as she turned the corner with the greasy-haired, pale, unattractive boy they had tormented since they were first years.

"You didn't have to do that," Severus stated quietly, as if it was a small issue of no real importance, but the vein pulsing in his temple hinted otherwise. Though he would have been humiliated, Severus Snape did not accept help. Neither did she.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Severus," Narcissa sniffed, bluffing. Maybe he could tell, and maybe he couldn't, but Snape let the topic drop and the two walked back to the Slytherin common room in companionable silence.

Chuckling softly, Narcissa sighed happily. That memory was only the tip of the iceberg in her relationship with Severus, yet as she looked back on it, it held a gold mine of information about her, Severus, and their future as friends.

"Mother?" Draco looked up inquisitorially at her, the sounds of content she had been issuing rousing him from his magazine.

"Yes, Draco?" she asked serenely, already knowing what he was wondering about. She rarely gave displays of happiness, let alone signs of any emotion except worry or disapproval.

"Well...nothing, I suppose," he stuttered, somewhat taken aback at her apparent puzzlement. She smiled secretively at him and he gave a little sigh of frustration and went back to "Quidditch Weekly".

"Mistress Malfoy, Young Master Malfoy, lunch is ready!" a house-elf squeaked as it appeared from behind a foot stool.

"Good," Narcissa replied, and stood. "Come along, Draco." Seeing him open his mouth to argue, she intensified her gaze, appearing sternly expectant. He sighed and reluctantly left the magazine on the coffee table before him. She nodded her approval and the two Malfoys walked smoothly through the maze of rooms and hallways of the manor, following the house elf to their meal, Draco slightly annoyed, and Narcissa once again falling into memory.

"Hello, Narcissa," Severus said as he stepped into the common room. A few months had passed, and Narcissa's potion grades, along with her familiarity with this strange boy, were increasing steadily.

"Severus," she replied, pleased that he was back. She smiled at him from her position on the couch where she lounged, closing the book she had been reading.

"Where is everyone?" he asked, walking over to her and settling in an armchair across from her, book bag dropped on the floor. She shrugged. There was apparently some sort of assembly today in the great hall, but it had not flagged her interest. Narcissa didn't know if Severus would enjoy it, but she decided not to mention it. She would gladly take any time she could get to talk to him. They hadn't had any real conversations in a long while. Especially not alone.

"What did Professor Dumbledore want?" she inquired, countering his question with one of her own.

"Nothing," he replied shortly, appearing flustered. "All alone," he muttered under his breath, just in her hearing range.

"Yes, all alone," she repeated, and laughed at the surprise on his face. Color quickly rose in his cheeks.

"Narcissa..."

"Yes?" Silence greeted her inquiry. He stared at the floor a few minutes. "Severus?" Narcissa leaned forward slightly.

"Do you fancy him?" he blurted, then quickly ducked down his head, hair covering his face. She could see the flash of his eyes looking up at her.

"Who?" Narcissa asked, bewildered. This was certainly not the question she had been expecting.

"Lucius," Severus whispered back, too late to back out.

"Lucius!?" Narcissa cried, now blushing as well. "Whatever would make you think that? I've barely spoken to him! I barely know him. I don't even-"

"Alright, alright," he replied quickly, obviously embarrassed. "I didn't-"

"Why do you care anyway?" Narcissa asked stiffly, practically in tears, though she couldn't see why.

"Because." About to express her dissatisfaction with this answer she was silenced to see Severus' hook-nosed face drawing nearer. Uncertainty in her eyes she once again opened her mouth, this time preparing to ask another question. "Shhh," he whispered. Then he kissed her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Regulus." Narcissa nodded at the second year. This cousin was showing much more potential than Sirius. Walking past a window showing the grounds, she stopped to gaze out at the snow-covered expanse, glistening in the faint sunshine that was filtering through the clouds. The normally dark outline of the Forbidden Forest was now as white as the ground below it. Narcissa smiled. Two years ago, even last year, she would not have acknowledged the simple beauty of the Hogwarts grounds. But she was now a seventh year, her last year, and she no longer took the wonderful sights of Hogwarts for granted. She frowned slightly, thinking that maybe she'd taken more for granted than just Hogwarts. Trying to push the thought from her mind, she pushed her way on to the Great Hall.

"Cissa." Severus looked up at the beautiful young woman standing in front of him. She sighed.

"Severus, please, please, do not call me-"

"Cissa," he stated, finishing for her. He smiled apologetically. Sitting down on the bench next to him, she calmly retrieved a piece of toast from the platters of food, and began to eat. Minutes later, her small talk with Snape was interrupted by a large, regal, black owl landing in front of her. Gently, she untied the letter from its leg and opened the cream colored parchment. After reading the twisting, slanting script, her face went as still as stone, the only betrayal of her emotions her slightly shaking hands. Standing, she walked purposefully away from the Great Hall.

Her thoughts were swirling in her head, threatening to break out onto her face. Narcissa could here the swift footsteps of someone behind her, and she quickened her stride.

"Narcissa! Stop!" Severus called from behind her, sounding annoyed. She whirled around.

"I don't take orders from you, and I would thank you to kindly leave me alone, Mr. Snape!" On the verge of tears, whether angry or sad she didn't know, Narcissa stormed away, barging into the empty Slytherin common room. Then they came. Silent at first, the tears rolled down her cheeks, evolving into belching sobs.

"Narcissa," he whispered softly in her ear, and settled beside her, holding her, stroking her hair. Finally she sat up, still sniffling, but cold and hard once again. "Now, what is it?"

"This." She pushed the letter at him, and he read it, expression becoming harder by the minute, until the point when he handed it back to her.

"And you were not...expecting this?" he sneered coldly after a moment. "You, a Black, were not expecting this match to be made?"

"I thought maybe Bellatrix-"

"You thought, you thought!" He leaned in toward her, his face a mask of fury. "Narcissa, I don't think you thought at all!"

"Maybe I didn't, Severus! Maybe I tried not to, because I wanted to be happy," she replied, breathing hard. "Yes, I wanted to be happy and I am sincerely sorry. Sincerely sorry I ever dared to do things that made me happy, knowing that something that would make you hurt might later occur. God forbid this is hurting me at all!" Silence followed her eruption. Narcissa continued to breath heavily, working off the anger she had held in her heart for more than just this morning; for her whole relationship. Severus looked up at her, shame in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Narcissa, I...I just..." his voice cracked and trailed off, as he leaned forward, pressing his lips against hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, grateful for this distraction, and let all her pent-up emotions flow into the kiss, one salty tear making a trail down her right cheek.

The letter had read:

Dearest younger sister,

How is Hogwarts? I hope all is well with you. Exciting news presented itself on the doorstep of our home yesterday in the form of Lucius Malfoy! I was there working out the details of my own wedding to Rodolphus, when yours became the main topic. The Malfoys had sent Lucius to ask father for your hand in marriage!

He pretended to think on it, but of course said yes. Congratulations! In two years you shall become Mrs. Lucius Malfoy. The Malfoys are some of the purest of blood in our world, and your Black blood mixed with his will make something extraordinary. I hope that this news brings you comfort, as Lucius is a fine man, as wealthy as he is powerful and handsome. I'm sure you two will be very happy, Narcissa.

I will see you over the holidays.

Love,

Bellatrix

The receiving of the letter, one of the most fateful days of her life. Narcissa thought back to the time when she would have willingly laid in Severus Snape's arms forever instead of marry Lucius Malfoy. But she had done so anyway, for the good of the family name, and for the good of herself, she would later realize.

She politely sipped her soup and looked, once more, upon her son. Draco, Draco, Draco. Even after her marriage to Lucius, even after her pregnancy, it had still never seemed real to Narcissa. Severus was the only one for her. They had seen each other often, Lucius being top-notch society, Narcissa his wife, Severus one of his close friends. They had talked and exchanged looks of longing many times, but never anything more. Narcissa Malfoy may have done many things, but she would never disgrace her husband. But then little Draco had come along. Her time with Lucius before the baby had been tight and restricting. No time to discover his true character. Then Draco had unknowingly supplied her with a memory of her husband she would never forget.

"Come now," Lucius spoke from within Draco's room, and Narcissa stopped in the doorway. She remained unnoticed. "You can't hope to ever amount to anything if you first do not learn to walk." The regal man was squatted on the floor, a few feet away from his pale son. Draco pushed himself up into a sitting position with an effort, then placed his feet under him. Narcissa resisted an urge to run to him, make sure he didn't fall. In her opinion, Lucius was much too far away to catch Draco when he fell, which he surely would. She had attempted to teach him to walk many times before, always failing. That this man, even if he was his father, that this man Draco had barely ever met would be able to succeed, where she hadn't, was laughable.

But laughable or not, Draco pushed himself up off the floor and stood on his feet, eyes tight in determination. He wobbled, almost falling and Narcissa bit back a cry, but Lucius squatted calmly as ever, staring intensely at his son.

"Draco, come to your father," he commanded, staring with grey eyes at the child. And, amazingly, Draco came. Step after step, slowly but surely, Draco came to his father and fell into his arms. A rare smile, one that Narcissa had never before witnessed, graced the man's handsome features. "Well done, Draco, well done. You have true potential." He stood up, and after briefly hugging his son, held him at arms length, pride in his eyes and voice. "You are a fine Malfoy."

Narcissa had backed slowly away from the scene, mouth open, yet smiling slightly. She would never have guessed that a child--a baby's--desire to please his father could ever be strong enough. But it had been in Draco. It always had been in Draco. Lucius appeared from the doorway and she quickly arranged herself.

"Draco just took his first steps," Lucius proclaimed, his eyes on the boy resting on his hip.

"I'm very proud," Narcissa replied truthfully, her eyes shining and looking upon the man, her husband, who she had thought she understood, just to be surprised again.

"As am I." He looked at her in turn and bent down to kiss her. This time, for the first time, Narcissa could feel the warmth of his lips.

Yes, Draco had always had a strong yearning to satisfy his father, to bask in Lucius' pride. It was still very powerful, maybe a little too powerful for Narcissa's comfort. It made her worry. How far would Draco go for his father; and how far would Lucius push him? These thoughts had plagued her since that day when her son's love for his father had been proven, but lately, a new fear had arisen. How far would the Dark Lord push Draco, knowing his strong connection with his father? She had never voiced it, tried to push it from her mind, but it was still there. What would Narcissa do if she could no longer look upon Draco's pale face, run her fingers lovingly through his blonde hair? She had almost come to know this past year, come to know what would happen if she could never look upon her son again, and it had been a decidedly unpleasant experience.

Narcissa shuddered. Best not to think of these things. They would only make her more agitated, worrisome, and angry. Better to think of the past days, the happier ones.

"Narcissa," he called from the tree he was resting against. A six year old Draco played happily nearby, just as she had suspected. Lucius Malfoy never lowered himself to the ground unless his son was around. She looked at him inquiringly, mildly interested in why he was interrupting her afternoon walk. He crooked a finger, beckoning her over.

Green velvet gown flapping about her heels, Narcissa reached her husband only to be pulled down into an embrace.

"I've got you at last, my little snake," Lucius whispered into her hair before pressing his lips to her cheek, then turning her and kissing her full on. She smiled as she leaned into him, basking in the afternoon sun, today one of the few days when Malfoy Manor was not plagued with visitors and guests. No, today it was just her, Lucius, Draco, and the house elves. They were alone, and free to sit on the grounds and enjoy a summer day and the joys that entailed.

Narcissa pulled away and rested back against Lucius, sighing contentedly. Draco ran past and Lucius grabbed him, pulling his son squealing into his lap as well.

"Well, it looks like I've caught myself a little snake and a little dragon. What a lucky day!" Draco giggled, trying to free himself and Lucius grinned and hugged him before setting the young boy loose. Narcissa watched her son play in the grass, and Lucius kissed the top of her head lovingly.

Happiness at the memory and sadness that Lucius wasn't here now battled in Narcissa. There had been days like that, the three of them, having fun and relaxing. But there had been many more of suppressed emotions, matters of pride, and long, restricting situations. Sometimes, though, Narcissa thought that the times she and Lucius could truly be together were worth all the days of pretending.

Of course, she had been in her fair share of uncomfortable situations. From the day when Draco first walked on, Narcissa's love for her husband grew and became more complex. But, though she had almost forgotten, Lucius wasn't the only one Narcissa had ever loved.

Narcissa sighed inwardly, staring out at the couples dancing. Tonight was another of Lucius' Ministry balls. All people of importance were invited, which meant another extremely boring evening complimenting and greeting. There was Fudge and his wife waving at her now. Plastering a small smile on her face, she headed over to the Ministry official.

After exchanging pleasantries with the Fudges for several minutes, Narcissa was relieved to feel a hand on her arm. She bid the couple good-bye, walking backwards. When she turned to face her rescuer, though, she felt her eyes widen.

"Hello, Narcissa." Severus Snape's hook-nosed face stared back into her shocked one.

"S-Severus," she stuttered. Guiding her toward a secluded corner he continued talking smoothly.

"How is your son, Draco?"

"Oh, he's-" she began, but when they reached the shadows, out of earshot, Snape cut her off.

"Narcissa," he whispered longingly, brushing a strand of blonde hair away from her face. "Oh, Narcissa." Staring into his face, Narcissa was struck by the difference between the outward appearances of Snape and Lucius. Snape: short, sallow, hook-nosed, greasy-haired. Lucius: tall, commanding, strong featured, straight blonde hair...Suddenly she saw from another Slytherin's eyes how strange she and Severus must have looked together. Her beautiful, him less than good-looking. It was not his appearance that had attracted her in the first place, but the strange looks from their school days suddenly made sense. Realizing Severus was still talking, Narcissa tuned back in.

"Lucius," he spat bitterly, finishing a sentence she could only guess the tone of. She raised her eyes slightly to meet his and all became clear. With a sharp pang of guilt she understood. She had loved Severus, but when she married Lucius, Narcissa had moved on. She came to love her husband, and, though she sometimes held him close in memory, had all but forgotten how she had once felt about the man in front of her. But his eyes showed that he had never forgotten how he felt about her. Never stopped feeling it. Sharply drawing in a breath, Narcissa lowered her eyes hastily.

"Oh, Severus," she whispered agonizingly. "I can't...I don't...I...Lucius...We..." she trailed off helplessly, looking up through her eyelashes into Snape's eyes. Flickering confusion, then understanding and realization, hurt, and then nothing.

"I see," he said coldly, quickly dropping her arm.

"Oh, Severus," she whispered again, voice cracking. She didn't want to hurt him. She'd never meant to hurt him.

"It's all right. I hope you and Lucius are very happy together." He turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. She stared after him, biting her lip. A strong hand gripped her elbow and she turned to find Lucius looking down at her concernedly.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, trying not to raise awareness. She sighed, sinking back momentarily into her husband. He stood strong for a second, letting her rest against him, then gently pushed her up.

"Fine." She looked up at him, smile back in place.

"Good," he whispered gently, lightly kissed her hair, then moved back into the party. Narcissa took a deep breath, regained her composure, then followed her husband back into society.

"That will be all," she dismissed the house elf, who bowed and carried away their used plates.

"Mother, I'm going to return to my magazine." Draco rose, letting the statement linger in the air for her to contradict if she wished, but Narcissa just shook her head distractedly.

"Yes, fine," she muttered, brow creased. That memory hurt, like ripping open an old wound. She really had never wished to forget him, but it had all been so natural. Apparently it had only been natural for her, though, with another wonderful man in her presence. Snape, she knew, had never been popular with the girls, and still wasn't.

Funny, how on that night she had let her emotions slip in front of the only men who had ever seen her true self, both of whom she respected so highly. And, of course, it had not been the last time.

Just last summer, Narcissa had found herself scampering over the dark hills, Bellatrix in tow, toward Severus' home. She had avoided him until then, hoping he was letting her go. But it had been hard to ignore the pain she felt in her heart whenever she looked at Draco, knowing that the one person who could help him was within her grasp. So she had arrived, crying and desperate, a cynical and accusing Bellatrix not helping her case. But she had witnessed first hand the desire he had to help her once again, to impress her, to comfort her. And so he had made the Unbreakable Vow, something anyone in their right mind would never have done, and she was grateful for it, and the knowledge it had given her.

Of course, she would not have had to go running to Severus if Lucius was not in Azkaban. Walking down the hall, she stopped with her hand resting on her and Lucius' bedroom door, anger bubbling inside her. Thoughts of her beloved husband rotting in Azkaban made her blood boil and recalled a very recent, painful memory.

"Narcissa?" a voice inquired, issuing from the shadowy cell, weak, but recognizable as Lucius Malfoy's. Narcissa stood on the other side of the bars, biting her lip.

"I'm here, Lucius," she whispered, then repeated it louder. Slowly he crawled into the light. His face was a sickly shade of white, deep purple bags resting below his dulled grey eyes. His hair was greasy, dirty, and hanging in clumps. His once rich clothes hung in tatters on his thin frame, reduced to filthy rags. Narcissa bit back a cry, torn between disgust, sadness, and anger. "I'm here." She closed her eyes slowly, and swallowed deeply.

"How is Draco?" he rasped, leaning against the bars.

"Fine, excited about school. How are you?" She leaned down, and he slipped a hand through the bars to run it over her face.

"I've been better." He laughed bitterly. They stared at each other, each trying to decipher how the other truly felt. Jangling keys and heavy footsteps alerted them that the man who had escorted Narcissa down to the cells was returning.

"He's coming," she sniffled, breaking the silence. Lucius nodded and coughed. "Good-bye, Lucius." She leaned forward so that her cheeks were pressing against the bars and delivered a kiss to her husband, the familiar warmth accompanied by an overwhelming rush of sadness. Pulling away, Narcissa stood and straightened her skirts, the jail-keeper rounding the bend.

"Good-bye, Narcissa," Lucius replied, speaking in his normal voice once more, a flash of intelligence shining intensely in his eyes before he retreated to the depths of his prison.

"Ready to go, Madame?" the old man wheezed, and she brushed past him, back toward the light, tears pinpricking her eyes.

"Mother?" Narcissa looked up sharply from her bed to see Draco. Sniffling, she quickly tried to hide her tears. His look softened when he saw her distress, and he came to sit on the bed next to her. "I knew something was wrong. Is it father again?" She smiled bitterly.

"Again? Yes, in a way, it is. But also..." She sat up and ran her fingers affectionately through his hair. "I worry about you." His face hardened again.

"There's no need. Really." Draco stared into the distance, reliving his own memories no doubt. A few minutes passed this way, in thoughtful silence. Finally Draco turned to his mother. "Are you all right now?"

"Yes." She nodded and he patted her arm, then stood. "We're going to be all right," she added softly, watching his silhouette in the door pause for a second, then disappear. Narcissa Malfoy took a deep breath, composed herself, then moved out into the light.