prologue
— Regulus, what's going on?! — Narcissa Malfoy's voice trembled in a way that was unbecoming of a woman like her. In her defense, she doesn’t think she had ever been this scared before, and she had faced a lot during her lifetime. Having to hold her baby in her arms as she was told there was a chance neither of them would live to see the sun rise again, however, was more than enough to shake her.
Even so, it was mostly her voice and the unsteadiness of her hands that gave her away. Otherwise, she looked as flawless as ever, not one hair out of place as she stared down into the fire for an answer that would give her an idea of what to do. Regulus’ image, a weak mirage amongst the flames, as if he could barely hold the connection that allowed them to communicate, was somber.
He wasn’t saying what Narcissa was now sure of. He didn’t have to.
Draco, just barely a year old, was crying in his mother’s arms, probably sensitive to her growing despair. Narcissa wished she could run her hands through his beautiful silver hair and humm a calming tune, the one that always made him giggle, but she wasn’t able to at that moment. She had a feeling she never would again.
— We don't have time Narcissa, you need to take Draco and run away. Now! — Regulu’s voice was urgent, and if she hadn’t already gotten a clue about how serious things were, she would have understood right away.
She didn’t get a chance to hear any further explanation. Regulus’ frantic warning was the last she heard before the fire went out along with all the lights in the Manor, and they were left in the dark.
Draco’s cries got even louder, desperation dripping along with every tear that fell from his big grey eyes, and Narcissa held him closer to her chest. She couldn't see anything beyond the horrifying empty space of her living room - lit only by the silver rays of moonlight - but she didn't need her vision to feel the crushing darkness of an approaching presence. She knew he was there. The air turned freezing cold against her skin, chilling her to the bones, as if all life had been sucked out of the world. There was an aura of despair that could not be caused by any other living being.
The Dark Lord was here.
Narcissa didn’t hesitate. She ran as soon as she heard the front door of the house open, holding Draco tightly in her arms. She ran up the stairs, faster than she had ever been. There were no thoughts running through her mind other than the knowledge that she had to keep her baby away from the threat. She entered her son's room, locking the door behind her even as she knew that no door would keep him away.
She sat in the armchair with Draco on her lap, silent tears running down her cheeks, and her son chose that moment to miraculously stop crying. Big gray eyes met hers, and he looked so small, so pure, that she knew she would do anything so her son wouldn't die that night.
Narcissa herself would die, she was sure of it. She had been aware that her time was short from the moment Lucius had told her about the decision he had made. She had come to terms with it, even if she didn’t want to leave Draco alone. It was certain, now more than ever, that those were her last moments alive.
But not Draco. Nobody would take Draco. He was her baby, her world, hers. The only good thing she had ever created, probably. The only thing she’d never regret. Her baby dragon.
Besides, Regulus would take care of him. Lucius might no longer be among them, but Regulus wouldn't let Draco be alone. It wasn’t the same as a mother, but he’d do a good job, she was sure.
Narcissa felt more than she heard the sound of slow footsteps down the hall, almost like an internal clock ticking and making sure she was aware of every second, every breath. Almost mocking. She rested her forehead against her son's head, taking in the sweet scent of his soft hair, feeling those beautiful eyes on her, full of innocence and confusion that only a child could replicate.
"I love you, Draco." Narcissa whispered, knowing that those would be the last chance she would have to say that, even when her son was too young to understand. He wouldn’t remember, but that was fine. She didn’t want him to know how terrified she was, anyway. "Your father loved you too. I wish I could have offered you the best life, with the best luxuries, but it didn't happen that way. I hope you’re able to forgive us." She kissed her baby's chubby cheek. "Je t’aime, mon petit dragon."
The doorknob turned, and Narcissa quickly placed her son in the armchair as she stood, positioning herself protectively between him and the threat. When she found herself face to face with the most powerful Dark Wizard that ever lived, she felt afraid. But more importantly, she felt an overwhelming need to make sure Draco didn't suffer the same fate as her, even if she had to use her own life to do so.
As the killing curse formed on Voldemort's evil lips, Narcissa felt her magic revolt within her, and when that single green beam struck her, she left this worl with the full certainty that whatever she had, though she didn’t know what that was, had protected her son.
She felt at peace.
* * *
The crushing weight of dark magic in the house was unmistakable, even miles away from entering. It held such a strong presence, even muggles who found themselves close by could sense a tingle run down their spine. Regulus Black could feel the destruction, as present as if it was a dagger stuck between his ribs. It had been a long time since he witnessed magic this strong and dark, and even then, it probably still couldn’t compete with this.
What was once Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's entire life was nothing more than haunting memories and a trail of destruction.
The Malfoy Manor was in ruins, the centuries-old pillars and walls crumbled down to the floor amongst burning pieces of wood and paper. Trails of Dark Magic made the air feel heavy and toxic with every breath, and everything - even the little things that remained, felt almost tainted by what had happened in that place.
Regulus felt glass and stone being crushed under his boots as he walked by the water fountain in the big entrance - still intact, almost as if mocking the moment with its perfection - and entered what used to be a glorious and prestigious mansion. He heard the child's cries as soon as he walked through the door, and his eyes widened.
Regulus quickly made his way to the small nursery, and what he found would shock him for years to come.
He hadn’t expected there to be any survivors. He had warned Narcissa in hopes that she would be able to take Draco and escape, but his expectations for that had been little to non-existent. It had been a last, desperate effort. And yet… here he was.
Draco Malfoy sat on top of the large armchair in the room, crying with desperation unbefitting a child that young. His little chubby face was red as if he was barely able to take a brath, and his cheeks were wet. But what caught Regulus’ attention was the cut on his forehead, which reminded him of lightning bolts that, even for a moment, brightened the sky amidst a terrifying storm.
How depressingly ironic.
Or miraculously beautiful.
Regulus’ attention moved from the baby to Narcissa’s unmoving, deathly figure on the floor in front of him, and a pang hit his chest when he noticed that she wasn't breathing. Still, almost in childish hope - hope he had thought dead inside him for years now, but was still enough of a fool to hold onto it -, he reached out and placed two fingers on the side of her neck, the pit in her stomach only deepening further when he found no pulse.
He swallowed the will to scream.
He and Narcissa weren’t all that close, never had been. In fact, Regulus would have called her, only a few months back, nothing more than a stranger. And yet, he felt like crying. Because lately they had been talking and had gotten the opportunity to create a bond that cousins should have been given as babies. They hadn’t been there yet, but there had been so much hope that they would.
Now, they never will.
A quiet whimper catched Regulus’ attention, and he looks away from his cousin’s body to find grey eyes, very similar to his own, staring deeply at him. He was amazed at the sadness there. Even with what happened, it felt wrong for a child that young to be so sad.
Regulus was reminded of himself. He approached the baby, who whimpered once more as soon as he was lifted into Regulus’ arms. Chubby little hands grabbed the man's shirt, a grip so tight and strong that spoke of a fear of being left alone. Of being forgotten and abandoned. Regulus understood that well.
— It's okay, little one. — He whispered. His voice seemed to calm the boy, even when he had no idea if he was telling the truth or not. He felt inadequate.
Draco stared at him, the only trace left of tears being the wet trails on his red cheeks, and Regulus made the decision that would change his life in that single instant. He took the small blanket left in the baby's crib and covered Draco with it, hiding the boy's face against his chest. He bent down, looking at Narcissa, and used his free hand to gently close the woman's eyes.
If he was more naive, he could convince himself she was resting.
— I'll take care of him. — He whispered, his low voice an oath in the shadow of the deep dark night. It was almost as if fate itself was promising. — I'll do my best.
Regulus left the woman's body and left the house, covering the baby’s face with the hood of his robes while protecting him with the blanket, feeling the small hands still clinging to his shirt. It was chilly as they stepped out of the Malfoy Manor ruins, and Regulus looked at the destruction one last time before glancing down at the bundle in his arms.
Draco blinked up at him, and Regulus knew he’d do anything to protect this boy. Not only had he made an oath to Narcissa, he made one to himself. Draco would have a better life than Regulus had. He would be protected.
As Regulus disappeared into the night, he left it all behind. No one knew who Draco Malfoy was with, nor did they know where he was. When Albus Dumbledore sent Rubeus Hagrid after the savior of the wizarding world, he didn't find him.
Everyone would know the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived... But until the time was right, no one would know Draco Malfoy.