I decided to post a fanfic today, one thats complete. Its one of my favorites of what I have written. Its not canon compliant because it was written before all the books in the fandom were released.
Summary: Narcissa Black-Malfoy had many Angels appear in her life. This is her story.
AN: Edited to fit OoTP. Au afterwards.
The young girl sat on her window seat, head against the cold windowpane. Her tears mingled with the reflections of the rain on her face. Her cool silver-blue eyes stared unending into the garden below her window. Her beautiful blond hair was pulled back with black ribbons that matched the black dress she wore. On her feet was a pair of black high- heels. She looked regal in the dark outfit, but the superior look didn’t reach her eyes.
She had lost more than just her mother that day. She had lost her innocence. She had been brought up against many of the things she believed to be true only to find them false. The most hard to face belief was that her mother wasn’t immortal as she always seemed to be, and that not all mothers lived to be old and gray grandmothers.
Seeing the once vibrant and warm women lay cold in a mahogany casket with silk lining had disillusioned her. Her mother now lay silent, her long blond hair flowing perfectly around her, her face made up perfectly and peaceful looking with arms folded on her stomach. Her mother looked like a fallen angel, doomed to die a mortal’s death.
Her father hadn’t cried at the funeral, but then she hadn’t expected him too. He never showed strong emotion at any public event. She had caught him crying in his study once, asking why his wife had to be taken from him. Her sisters’ appearances had been similar. Bellatrix had not shown any emotion and Andromeda had been almost as emotionless but his eyes showed the sorrow he felt. They were quite a bit older then her, being twenty-five and twenty-three respectively. She was only thirteen years old. She hadn’t showed any emotion, not thinking that her mother deserved tears on the day of her funeral, but now she let loose the feelings that had been running though her mind like an emotional hurricane.
She cried because there would be no more bedtime stories of a childhood long past and of magical faraway lands with knights and dragons.
She cried because her mother would no longer be there for girl’s night where they would talk the night away about silly things like the boys at school or their fantasies and dreams. She cried because she had lost the innocent belief that her mother would always be there. She cried because she knows that if her mother could die then most likely there was no Santa Claus or Tooth Fairy. She cried because she would never be able to tell her mother about her first crush, or about her first date. She wouldn’t be able to go shopping with her mother for that perfect ball gown for her first dance. She wouldn’t be able to hear her mother complain about how revealing that dress would be and say that in her day girls never wore such clothes, but then let her wear it anyway. She wouldn’t see her mother smiling at her from the pews as she walked down the aisle at her wedding. Her mother would never be able to hold any of her grandchildren.
She cried simply because she no longer had the choice not too.
He was a dark angel, she was sure. He looked too pure to be anything but an angel but was too dark to be a light. He was perfect in her eyes. He had long ice-blond hair and sliver-gray eyes that seemed to view everything, even the depths of your soul. She loved his aristocratic face, his perfect smile, and his voice.
He was an associate of her father’s at the ministry, a prominent businessman who was quite wealthy. Money never mattered much to her, having grown up knowing she would have her own source of income separate from the man she married. She would often sit in the room with them, listening to their discussion on upcoming bills that were in the process of being passed, just to listen to him. She fell in love with him as soon as she had met him, shortly after her mother’s death.
When she was fifteen he started to take notice of the attention she gave him. He began to come over to discuss things other than business. He would often pay more attention to her then to her father. Cygnus Black did not mind this, and often encouraged it. They would discuss books and plays and politics, whatever would come up. She always felt as if her world was getting better every time she saw him.
He didn’t officially start courting her until she was of age, seventeen. He was always cautious about their relationship. Even in their world, a man dating women thirty-four years younger was questionable. No one doubted her actions, and only suspicious of his own. Many gossip groups would comment on how wonderful a couple they made. Some even betted on how early he would ask her to marry him.
Her world expanded because of him. She got out into the world, went to whirlwind parties and teas, even balls at elite manors across the country. Her naïve approach to things was apparent. She learned that prejudices were everywhere, even marring the perfect nature of the man she loved. She learned that some people were only your friends because of your wealth and that looks ran supreme in the high society that her boyfriend associated with.
He asked her to marry him when she turned eighteen. Her father was ecstatic and her brother’s happy someone would take care of her. They believed her to be a timid mouse, but inside were burning flames that were hidden from them.
Her wedding was in all the high society’s papers, even the Daily Prophet. Everything was perfect. Her dress was copied for years as high style and many people fought for invitations to the ceremony. She herself had only wanted a small ceremony, but he would hear nothing of it. Nothing but the biggest and the best for the heir of the Malfoys would be accepted and nothing but the biggest and the best was done. She felt foolish spending thousands of galleons on the wedding but he spent the money like it was magically grown on the trees in his orchards. Everything was up to standard with the finest and when she asked for something, it was given. She felt incredibly spoiled but kept her head. Everything was perfect until around the time her son arrived. Then it got dark. Her friends kept ending up dead by the hand of Voldemort. Classmates, acquaintances and enemies; they were all dead because of him. She was thankful when she heard of the little boy who managed to live but she never voiced it.
Her third angel arrived on a cold Christmas day. His father was nowhere to be found. She never knew till later why Lucius hated their child so much. Lucius was a selfish man, and a child took away attention that he thought he rightly deserved. She felt hurt every time she saw the obvious adoration of their son focused on him was not returned. He never cared.
When he was younger, Draco was pushed by Lucius to be perfect. That meant in school, in attitude and in appearance. Draco was not allowed to have one strand out of place; his robes had to be impeccable. He was never allowed in the sun for that risked burning and burns were not acceptable. She never commented that if he were allowed out more often he wouldn’t burn so much. Draco was extremely intelligent, getting into Hogwarts a year early. Even the fact that he was ahead was not enough for Lucius. He had to be at the top of the class. Lucius claimed it was because of Hermione Granger being a “mudblood” but in truth it was Lucius making sure the Draco felt less than perfect in his father’s eyes, in the eyes of the man he admired so much.
When Quiddich arrived, Lucius made sure Draco was on the team. Draco was an alright player but he wanted to be a chaser, something he excelled at. Lucius, of course, would not agree, saying that his son would not be a chaser but rather a seeker so he could beat Harry Potter. Lucius had manipulated Draco’s anger at being rejected into hate and Draco agreed to be seeker although he would complain to his mother in letters that being a seeker was not enough work.
That was where Draco was different from his father. Draco had ambition but instead of wanted more power (even where there was there none to give) his ambition was towards school and Quiddich. He never quite had the strong hate of Muggle-borns that Lucius had, although he was for certain not kind to them. Draco was also good in potions. Lucius never had the patience for potions but Draco did and he used his talent.
When Draco got older he started to become more independent of his father’s thinking. She got a fewer owls as the years went by from Severus Snape about his harassing the muggle-borns or the Weasley family. Severus had owled her weekly to tell her about the happenings at the school. Lucius never knew about the letters. She would never let him know that the letters kept her sane. Over the years they became more romantic, more involved. Draco found out about the relationship his fifth year but never told his father, thinking it was just platonic and nothing to worry about. During Draco’s sixth year they started to meet each other instead of writing when they could. This lead to an affair, which Lucius never knew about till his death.
During Draco’s seventh year, Severus noticed a difference in Draco. He talked less about the Dark Lord, and had even discussed becoming and Auror with his head-of-house. She was surprised but happy at the thought that Draco no longer longed to be a Death Eater like her husband. She was nervous about her only son at the time being in such a dangerous job, but she handled it like she had with everything the past seventeen years, with an outside mask of no emotion.
Her fourth Angel came in an unusual package. Virginia Weasley was the antithesis of her husband. She was reminded every time she looked at Ginny of her mother. While the girl had nothing to do with Draco’s final decision about Voldemort, Ginny had given him the choice, which his father was unwilling to give. Draco’s rose-colored glasses view towards his father was shattered over a period of time. Love can do strange things. It can blind to you to some and make clearer others.
She was there when Draco and Harry Potter destroyed Voldemort, and reluctantly Lucius. While they would never be friends, Harry and Draco had come to compromise on certain situations. She liked to think Ginny was partially to credit for this.
She was there when Draco and Ginny got married. It reminded her of her own wedding, only Ginny knew what she was getting into and wasn’t blinded by love towards her husband’s actions.
She was there when her grandchild was born. Caius Severus Malfoy was a light in her life during her last years. His brothers and baby sister were also, but it would always be Severus who would be closest to her. She didn’t know if it was the fact that he reminded her of her second, truer love that had died in the war, or it was because he reminded her of Lucius as well. He was a group package of all the angels in her life. He had Lucius’ dark humor, Severus love for knowledge and potions, Draco’s looks and Ginny’s disposition.
The day she died, three of the seven angels that had been in her life stood by her side. Draco sat beside her on the bed, his eyes full of unshed and silent tears. He never could deal well with seeing his mother in pain, even if the pain was only a gate towards eternal peace. Ginny stood at the bottom, looking at her with fondness and sadness too. Over the years Ginny had grown to love her as a mother and looked up to the quiet blonde women. Severus and his younger brother Marcus stood on either side of her, at the bottom of the bed.
Narcissa, her namesake, stood at the doorway afraid to come in because she was afraid of her Nana dying. She didn’t expect more than that. Cissa was only a four-year-old little girl, and had no idea that death could be a peaceful, joyful experience. She only thought of the end of living, as they knew it, not of the living on the other side of death.
She left peaceful, with those who loved her. She returned to the arms of her love and smiled as her mother came into view. She looked down as she watched her funeral and burial. She watched over the angels remaining on earth until they came to her. She watched as first Draco, and then Ginny hours later, died. She watched as Severus hand the Malfoy fortune to his own son who was named for his father. She watched as Marcus taught Potions after his father retired, and later hand the job to his son Phillip. She watched as Narcissa married and raised her children, telling them stories of their grandmother who was no longer there for them.
They were all Angels to her.