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Mother of a Deatheater by megs
Chapter 1 : No one to Love
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 13

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Mother of A Deatheater

Narcissa Malfoy’s home was strangely quiet. No visitors passed through and nobody came to comfort her. She had nobody to love and there was no one to love her anymore either.

Her tears fell silently, splashing onto the grand oak table with an insensitive ‘plop’. She pushed back the chair and walked to her room, smelling the green drapes as she passed.

Two months, five days and six hours.

Her bed remained unmade, she felt it was insignificant to make it now that she was…. Alone.

The green drape remained in her hand, the material rubbing against her. It grew darker as her tears wet it.

Narcissa stood again, wrapping the white robe around her tightly. She shuffled down the hall and stood before her only sons doorway.


“Mommy! Mommy, come see the snowman!” Yelled the young boy tugging at his mother’s apron.

“Oh Draco, you’ve gone and got my floors all wet. Go play outside for a little while longer.”

“Will you come?” he asked pushing aside the shaggy blond hair.

Narcissa shook her head and pulled on the oven mitts. Like everything else in her home, they were green. “No honey, your father’s coming home tonight.”

“Oh… okay.” Said Draco. For a few moments he seemed sad but lightened up as he ran outside again.


Just looking at her son’s door made her want to weep more. That was weak though. Malfoy’s weren’t weak.

She opened the door slowly. In inches almost. She hadn’t been able to find the strength the change his room. She didn’t want to make his presence die. Every time she went in she felt him beside her. And she didn’t want to lose that.

She stepped into the room and ran her hand over the dark furniture. It was dusty and the bed was unmade from the last time he’d slept in it.

Narcissa carefully sat down on the chair and stared at the papers on his desk. His hogwarts letter lay open and visible to all. The book he’d been reading was there as well. Something dark no doubt.

Picking up the hogwarts letter, Narcissa covered her mouth. She tried as hard as she could to not think about Draco’s first day of school.

“Goodbye son.” Said Lucius sternly. He patted him on the back and bent down to whisper in his ear. Narcissa scowled as her son smirked. He was quickly becoming like his father.

“Goodbye father, goodbye mother.” He said smoothing down his hair.

Narcissa handed him his backpack for the train ride and smiled. Knowing Lucius wouldn’t approve, she bent down and hugged her son. Breathing in his scent. Draco seemed to relax for a moment as he hugged her back.

Lucius pulled his son away, looking to see if anyone had been watching. Casting an evil look over his shoulder he led his only son to the train and watched him board.

He waved on last time and was gone; Lucius’s robe swirled around him as he walked back to her, avoiding eye contact.

She knew she would pay.


She had loved her son an incredible amount, no matter how much he’d turned out like his father.

Narcissa had always held a stiff side around Lucius, but her son had always held a soft spot. He was her everything.

The hogwarts letter was ink blotched with her tears as she set it back on the desk. Her fingers ran over the oak wood again. This time leaving a clear line through the dust.

Walking down the stairs, her footsteps echoed. Standing at the bottom she looked at the doorway. Remembering when she found out.


“Mrs. Malfoy?” asked the man in the long white cloak.

“What is it?” asked Narcissa in the doorframe. Her hand grasped the emerald necklace around her neck tightly.

“You’re husband was severally hurt with a memory charm.” The healer said taking off his hat.


“I have more news M’am.”

“Is it about my son?” she asked. Her breath growing heavier.

“Yes, I’m terribly sorry.”

“No! NO! You’re lying! You’re fucking lying!” Narcissa screamed, she collapsed onto the floor, her head held in her hands. They were growing moist as her tears soaked them.

“Please M’am-“

“NO! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT!” She yelled slamming the door. She ran to the living room and stopped in her tracks. Pictures of her son were everywhere.


Narcissa sat limply on the bottom step. Twirling the set of pearls Draco had given her. She hadn’t thought she’d make it through his death. Let alone the funeral.


Everything was black. Even the plain cross that was used to bury him. There had been no beautiful service, only a quick ceremony. She was the only one to attend him. Only two crosses down held anther service.

The death toll from the last battle had been huge. They had considered mass graves for the dead left unclaimed.

As the man said insensitive words for her only son, Narcissa wept. Falling to the ground as the sky opened up. Spilling it's own tears on her.

As the man walked away, Narcissa fell to the ground and crawled towards the cross. Her hands tripped at the wet grass and she tried to keep from attracting attention to herself.

A hand rested on her shoulder and Narcissa turned to see Molly Weasley. She cringed as Molly helped her up. “I’m sorry Narcissa.” She whispered kindly. Narcissa nodded and stared at the rows of white crosses they were walking by.

Molly was crying openly as she walked by them, “I’m sorry for you too Molly.”

Molly only nodded, unable to speak. She coughed as the rain pattered onto her already soaked hair. “I lost my only daughter and four of my boys.”

“Oh god…” whispered Narcissa covering her mouth in horror.

She then forgot about the war, she forgot she was an enemy to these people and she forgot all about her husband.

Suddenly crying again, Narcissa hugged Molly awkwardly and quickly stepped away. She left, apparating back home.


Narcissa dried her tears as she pulled on a long over-coat. She brushed her hair and let the blond hair go natural. She picked up her purse and walked to the door.

The bright sun shocked her. She didn’t venture outside very much. Walking down the street, she felt as if everyone stared at her. Her head was held low until she reached St. Mungo’s.

“I’m here to see Lucius Malfoy.” She said to the receptionist.

“Room 52.” She replied not looking up from her work. Narcissa nodded, saying a faint goodbye. She walked up the hall, the white… everything bothered her. Even the white.

She opened the door of her husband’s room and forced herself to smile.

“Hello Lucius.”

“Who are you?” he asked from the bed.

And Narcissa lost it, she wept. Why? Narcissa had lost everything she ever loved.

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