Narcissa stares at the dark mark with wide, disbelieving eyes. Dread pools inside her at the way the harsh black ink has mares his pure, pale skin.
It is Draco, standing there, showing her what he‘d done to protect their family.
Draco…her little boy. He‘s only just turned sixteen.
She looks up into his pale blue eyes, and for a moment, they change colour. His face changes entirely into one slightly older, with even sharper cheekbones and even darker shadows beneath tired eyes.
Her breath hitches. Regulus.
Draco looks just like he did, when showing her the mark that will forever be part of him. And now, that very same curse stains her son’s skin — a horrible scar on his innocent frame.
No, please, not my son.
She won’t lose him like she‘d lost her cousin. Her dearest Regulus.
„Draco,“ she whispers.
She steps closer to him, reaching out to ghost her fingers over the mark. „What have you done?“
„I didn’t have a choice.“ her son replies, feigning a bravery he doesn’t own. He would not have fooled many, and least of all her. She can see the fear in his eyes.
Her stomach twists painfully. „He— he wouldn’t…you aren’t even of-age yet.“ she insists, though of course no argument could change what had already been done. „He doesn’t recruit underage—“
„He wants me to right Father‘s wrong.“ Draco explains quietly, the burden of such a task sitting heavily on his thin shoulders. He’s gotten so thin…and so…hollow in both body and soul.
Narcissa can barely look at him without feeling tears stinging in her eyes these days.
I failed you.
She takes his hands into hers, pulling him closer to her. „That isn’t your responsibility.“ she insists, squeezing his cold fingers. „You’re just a boy, Draco.“
He removes his hands from hers. „I’m sixteen.“ his expression hardens, hiding his true feelings entirely, even from her.
She shakes her head. Her tears swim dangerously in her eyes, no matter how much she tries to keep them down. „I know,“ she replies softly. „And that makes you still a child. My child.“ she grabs him by the shoulders, leveling him with a fierce glance. „I’d rather die than let anything happen to you.“
He looks surprised for a second, breaking her fragile heart — he should not be so surprised by her choosing him over herself. It is what any Mother would do, right? At least any loving Mother…and in all her life, Narcissa knows she could never love anybody as much as she loves her son.
„I did to protect you, Mother.“ he replies.
She pulls him closer again, all the way into her trembling arms, which get to hold him for the first time in weeks. „You don’t have to do that, little dragon,“ she whispers, clinging to him desperately.
She is very glad, in this moment, that he is still to grow taller than her. „That’s my job.“