Hello Mother, Sorry, Narcissa…Polly

God it’s freezing, you thought to yourself as you stepped through the mud and puddles of Small Heath, Birmingham. You were picking at some kind of 1920s dress you chose to wear just before you made your way through the misty town. Travelling into another reality, decades before you were born was not in your weekend plans, but it was an opportunity you couldn’t back away from. You had to find her, and get the answers you so desperately longed for. It had been five years since you last saw her. You had to know what happened to her. Was she banned? Did she choose to come here all by herself? Was she trapped? 

You caught a glimpse of your reflection on a shop’s door. Your hair was styled into a neck-length wavy bob. Your eyes were widened with alertness and glimmered with frustration and disappointment, your lips were pressed together nervously. You were wearing a purple satin dress with a layer of mesh topping the fabric with various flowers. You paired it with some nude heels and a black fur coat. You had to fit in. You had to look authentic in order to pass.                                                          You passed several working boys with newsboy caps and women taking their children for a walk. You entered a street named ‘Watery Lane’ when an old lady came outside her barricaded door to grab a milk bottle.

‘Excuse me, Miss.’ You speed-walked over to the pavement, trying to get her attention before she hid back behind her door. ‘I’m looking for this woman, her name is Narcissa Malfoy. I was told that she lives here, in Small Heath. I have a picture if you wouldn’t mind taking a look?’

The old lady opened the door to step outside. Your hands were rustling through your pockets filled with other small items. Finding the photo, you pulled it out of your pockets and handed it over for her to look at.

The lady’s face turned into a look of surprise and shock. You cocked your head to the side, trying to get a glimpse of her facial expression.

‘That’s Polly Gray ye’ lookin for.’

You furrowed your eyebrows repeating the name back.

‘Yes, she lives seven houses down from ‘ere. That way,’ She pointed down the muddy street. ‘Do ye’ have some kind of business with her?’

‘Business? Why would I?’ You took back the photo, cramming it back into your pockets. You kept your hands inside due to the cold. The whirling wind was dancing around, making you tremble.

‘Ye’ lookin’ for her,’

You nodded.

‘No one willingly tries to go to Polly Gray.’ She emphasised her name.

‘Why’s that?’

‘She’s part of the Peaky Blinders!’ She said in a tone like you were supposed to know. ‘The Peaky Blinders rule Small Heath. No stone gets left unturned with ’em. They know everythin’.’

‘The Peaky Blinders are a gang?’

‘Yes. Not a peaceful one either. I like to keep my distance from them, even though they provide many good things for us.’

You smiled and continued to talk to the old lady trying to find out more about the Peaky Blinders. Apparently it was a family oriented gang and the leader, Tommy Shelby, seemed to have all the sheeps under control. His brothers, Arthur and John ruled alongside him. They were feared by most people and anyone who did not do as they said, would end up blinded or dead. They were known for sewn in razor blades at the peak of their hats. Hence why they’re called the Peaky Blinders.

‘Thank you for helping me, Miss…,’

‘Cork. Mrs. Cork, darling, ‘n’ it’s quite alright. Stay safe and good luck with that business of yours.’

You smiled once more, shook her hand and turned your feet towards the south of the street.

7 houses down, your mind repeated the words over and over again to make sure you wouldn’t accidentally end up on a stranger’s doorstep. Your mind was racing with so many questions and possibilities you didn’t know if you wanted answers.

Arriving at house number 6, you noticed that the door was slightly open. You knocked loudly, hoping that someone would come and fetch you to finally see if it were true. If Narcissa was truly here.                             After a few minutes there was still no person in sight so you dared stepping into the house of the most feared gang in Birmingham.

Looking around you saw a staircase that led upstairs and a living room decorated in tons of colourful rugs and furniture. Pictures were standing on top of the fireplace and empty whiskey bottles and used ashtrays piled upon the small table standing in the middle of the room. The curtains were shut and the sunlight illuminated the red fabric, tinting the walls.      

You stepped around the small but cozy living room when you neared yourself to a picture frame standing on top of drawers in the far right corner. It was Narcissa—well Polly, holding a cigarette in her right hand, smiling at the camera. You studied the picture with a faint look of frustration on your face. You never knew why she left without a word and without a trace. How could she leave her family behind like they meant nothing to her? Narcissa, your mother and you, had a connection some could only dream of. Since you were born she wasn’t only your mother, but your best friend. She may have not been the best person, following her values and husband, but she was the best mother one could wish for until she left after the Wizarding War and never came back.                              

You tried your best to stay calm and friendly but with every second a glooming ball of anger grew inside of you. You still couldn’t fathom the fact that she left you all alone in a broken place with no one to go to. Your father and brother weren’t exactly people one could talk to, but before you could think any further, you were interrupted by a young boy who seemed about 10 or 11 years old.

‘Who are you?’ He asked, carefully stepping towards you.

‘My name is Y/N, I’m a friend of Pollys. Do you know her?’

The boy nodded carefully not knowing who you are, but he came even closer trying to see you better. He walked around you in circles taking everything in he saw.

‘Ye’ not from here are you?’ He looked you straight in the eye.

‘That’s right. I’m from a far away place, you see,’

He shrugged not caring too much about your answer, instead he started to walk off but before he could close the door you yelled after him.

‘Do you know where Polly is?’

He nodded again. ‘Yes.’

‘Can you tell me where she is?’ A hint of hopefulness in your tone.

‘She’s in the back of the shop. I’ll show you.’

Breathing out in relief, you took one last look at the picture and stepped behind the table in order to walk through the doorway. You were now in a small but neat kitchen. You saw a cabinet full with porcelain plates, a used loaf of bread, a glass of jam and two giant wooden green doors. They must open the house next door because the house was too small for another space.

You stared at the half-eaten sandwich that was sitting on the dining table. ‘Is this yours?’ You questioned the boy you still had no name from.

He nodded whilst taking the sandwich with both hands and took a large bite.

‘I forgot to ask for your name?’

‘Finn.’

‘Well it’s nice to meet you, Finn.’ You grinned whilst he stuffed his face with more bread.

Staring out of the kitchen window that was tucked behind red silk curtains, you took a quick look outside out of curiosity before your fingers graced the table as you walked around it.

‘Polly is behind that door.’ Finn pointed to the green doors behind him. You moved towards the green door and took one last breath. You cleared your throat, adjusted your dress and hair for no reason making you chuckle. This was the moment you waited for. Five years in waiting. The time had come. You had no idea if you were going to be content or insolent the second you would see her.

Your hands found themselves to the cold, rusty door handle and with a hasty pull you swung the door open to be greeted by a beam of sunlight and four men standing and sitting around an old table that looked like it was seconds away from falling to dust.

Standing at the door frame, your legs felt glued to the floor like your entire body was put into a cast. You couldn’t move. Maybe because you expected to see her straight away. You took this time to take in the surroundings.

The room looked like a hand grenade exploded just moments before you entered. There were barely any walls that kept the rooms apart, instead the bricks were out by 10cm; the floorboards were finished in old dusty wooden boards; there was a large blackboard with a chart on it, filled with loads of words and numbers; by the table stood a few stools, ashtrays, bottles of whiskey and tons of paper filled the surface. At the table you saw the four men invested in their tasks before you stepped in and took their attention. The tallest one had a mustache that stood out very prominently, the other man was biting on a toothpick, the man on the left was smoking a cigarette and in between the three stood a dark haired man with piercing blue eyes that looked like ice itself. His forehead creased with lines whilst his eyes gave you a questioning look.

‘And who the fuck are you?’ The man with the toothpick said. You could tell he had a big ego.

‘Who the fuck are you? Talking to me like that.’ You stepped towards him not breaking eye contact.

‘I asked first.’

‘I asked second.’ You snapped back.

‘My brother asked you a question.’ The tall one barged in trying to intimidate you.

You rolled your eyes and placed your hands behind your back, softly rolling your feet up and down. ‘I don’t remember talking to you.’

His eyes squinted into slits with anger.

‘Back off, Arthur.’ The brown haired boy grunted, dragging smoke from his cigarette and effortlessly breathing it back through his nostrils.

Balling his fists, Arthur went back to his original spot not being in the mood to argue with you. The other man continued to stare at you without saying a word.

‘I live here.’ The man with the toothpick answered, pulling down his shoulders to look taller and bigger.

You laughed to yourself not being able to contain it. Just because situations were serious didn’t mean you were.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘Oh it’s nothing,’ You trudged towards an unoccupied chair, letting yourself fall into the seat. You leaned your head back before continuing. ‘I’m looking for Polly Gray. I was told she lives here.’

‘What do you want from Polly?’ The man with the blue eyes joined in on the ongoing conversation he seemed so disinterested until now.

‘I want nothing but the truth from her for now,’ You stared at him. ‘And to see if it’s truly her. To see if ‘Polly fucking Gray’ is here in body, mind and spirit.’ You huffed loudly being annoyed by all those questions.

The man with the icy blue eyes started to wander around the table, taking a drag of his cigarette every couple of seconds. His feet stopped in front of yours.

‘And what business do you have with Polly Gray?’

‘Business that doesn’t concern you.’

The man chuckled.

Whilst you were swapping words with the man, someone in the far back of the room had entered the room from the outside, a large box covering their face that kept the anonymity of the person. You pushed yourself off the chair and took a few steps forward before stopping in your tracks. The person was wearing a pair of black heels with black tights, a long black skirt that was veiled in a purple jacket that fell to their knees—a woman.

‘Coppers placed these boxes in front of the shop, Tommy.’ She said, and you knew exactly who it was. ‘Said it was unfinished business.’

Tommy the man with the blues eyes rolled his eyes. ‘Polly, there a lady that wants to see you,’

‘Who is it?’ She carefully placed down the boxes on another table in the back and took her hat and gloves off. Her dark brown hair was pulled into a half up-half down and her eyelids were covered in sparkly eyeshadow. When her eyes landed on your presence she froze in an instant. Her brown eyes almost popped out of her eye sockets and her lips started to tremble.

‘Y/N…?’ Narcissa gasped, making the others in the room stare at her.

‘You know her?’ The surprise in Arthur’s tone made it clear that Narcissa or Polly, whoever she was at this given moment had never talked about you.

‘Hello Mother, sorry Narcissa, … Polly, do you still remember me?’

The man with the toothpick walked towards her and tried to talk to her. ‘Mother? Pol, what’s going on? Who’s Narcissa?’

‘How did you find me?’ Her eyes were still wide, not believing what stood before her.

‘Honestly,’ You paced towards her. ‘I guessed. Took me five bloody years though.’

You paced around her frame taking advantage of the silence that was growing between the walls.

‘I thought I’d never see you again. Thought the Ministry of Magic casted you out to some kind of prison world, but, it turns out that you willingly left Father, Draco, and I!’

The men in the room were completely silent.

‘I thought maybe you fled from Voldemort's return but I was disappointed to find out the truth. You left because you felt like it. You left me!’ You yelled out the last sentence, fighting back tears that would roll down your face and show just how hurt you were by her actions that had caused you so much pain. ‘I asked around Hogwarts, the Ministry of Magic,’ You stopped. ‘God, I even contacted Bellatrix to just find you alive...to make sure you weren’t killed at Hogwarts or as an aftermath when everyone went after the remaining Death Eaters to get justice for themselves, but no one ever found you. No one had seen you after they last saw you with Draco on that bridge.’

Your mother’s face had fallen to an expression of shame. Her eyes were glossy, she was fidgeting with her fingers and her feet were tapping up and down on the wooden floor.

‘Y/N my dear,’ She started shakily but you interrupted her.

‘I needed you! You left me alone after the battle. I was only seventeen! I needed a mother. You were just as loyal to the ‘Dark Lord’ as Father was, yet he didn’t run and leave his family behind.’

A tear rolled down her face. She stepped towards you carefully, approaching you like a person that wanted to gain the trust of a scared cat.

‘I’m so so sorry.’ She sniffled, placing her hands at the side of your cheeks. ‘That look in your eyes, hurts me a-’

Realising what she had done, you ripped yourself out of her grasp and took a step back.

‘No! You don’t get to feel sorry. You’ve had time yet you never came back so don’t lie to my face. Not now, not ever.’

You had completely ignored your surroundings. You didn’t care what they’d hear, you didn’t care about the neighbours, the birds, the children, no one. You were hurt by someone you trusted and loved most of your life to and the hole she left in your heart couldn’t be patched up with a safety pin.

‘Polly what the fuck is this?’ You saw John take the tooth pick of his mouth.

‘Yeah Polly,’ You maintained eye contact with her exhausted eyes. ‘What the fuck is this?’

‘How about you woman, just relax, aye?’ Arthur stepped in front of you, trying to maintain a wall between your hot headedness and your mother’s regret.

‘You don’t tell me to relax when I have been looking for her for five years. So get out of my fucking way or I’ll kill you.’ Your right hand found itself into your coat’s pocket, gripping tightly onto your wand’s handle.

‘Listen here you f-‘

‘Arthur,’ Polly suddenly said. ‘Step aside. She’s right and she will kill you before you can even extend your arms.’

‘Pol,’ Arthur kept his eyes on you. ’She won’t be able to kill me…’

‘She will Arthur. Just trust me on this. It’s alright.’ She reassured him before he stepped back.

‘Y/N, dear,’ She came closer. ‘I left because I had no other choice.’

‘You had a choice. You could’ve chosen to stay with me! I could’ve protected you.’

‘I had no choice. I was facing hatred from the entire Wizarding World. Everyone wanted me dead because of your father. I decided to save myself and leave.’

‘That’s not true.’ You held back tears, lips trembling with sadness. In the back you could hear the men discuss the meaning of Wizarding World. ‘Just…stop…lying.’

‘I never hated you. I never wanted you dead.’ You choked on your tears. Once that first tear broke free, the rest followed in an unbroken stream.

‘You woman, just calm down.’ John stepped between you too just like his brother had just a few minutes ago. ‘You don’t get to step into our home and make the rules.’

More rage started to build up within your heart. You were made to look like a fool. Just a foolish girl that’s too emotional, but they would never understand the pain. Your hand found itself back to your wand, tightly gripping it before pulling out of your pocket and placing the end under his chin making sure to push it in a bit. But all he did was laugh.

‘You think I’m scared of a stick.’ He smirked.

Taking a moment to look around you saw Tommy, Arthur, and Michael as you came to find out, find amusement in the scene.

‘John, get out of the way now!’ Narcissa chided, stepping to his side.

‘I’m not afraid of her. After all, the only thing she has is a little stick.’

That was the last you’d be disrespected again. The rage finally boiled over, continuing to spill. Just as the spell was about to leave your lips, you saw a bird sitting on a pile of files on the table.

‘Avada Kedavra.’

The bird died as soon as you said the words and fell to its side. You retrieved your look back to John who clearly believed you now.

‘If you don’t want to end up like the bird, I suggest you take a big step to the side and leave me the fuck alone.’

And without further questions he went back to his seat. The other’s eyes were glued to your every move.

‘What the fuck are you?’ Arthur asked but it sounded very aggressive. ‘A witch?’

‘Ding, ding, ding. God you men are fucking stupid. We’ve been standing here for ages and you just realised? Jesus.’

He was about to stand up but you only held your wand high with a smirk before he sat right down.

‘So if you’re a witch,’ Michael spoke up. ‘And my mum knows what you’re talking about…, is she too?’

You let out a half-suppressed, scornful laugh, twirling your wand around your fingers, raising it towards Narcissa. ‘Correction,’ you stated, ‘my mother.’

Your head turned back to face her.

‘C’mon, Mother, show them what you can do.’ You tried saying with a straight face, but failed miserably as you edged the wand closer to her.

She looked up at you, and then them, uncertain what either party might say.

‘I don’t practice anymore.’

‘But you did?’ Michael questioned.

‘Yes.’

‘So all your predictions and readings were real then?’ Arthur joined the conversation, fingers tapping against a glass of whiskey he poured himself.

‘That’s not how it works.’ You rolled your eyes, retrieving the wand back to your pocket. ‘We’re not those kinds of witches.’

Tommy, who wasn’t really integrating himself into the elephant in the room for the past half an hour or so, suddenly cleared his throat very loudly.

‘So, let me get this straight.’ He placed his smoking cigarette between his index and middle finger, eyeing you up and down. ‘You’re Polly’s daughter from some fucking Wizarding World that came here to see if Polly was here because she apparently left?’

‘Precisely, Tommy.’

‘Is this some kind of fucking joke?’ Voice low, rough, sexy.

‘You expect us to believe you little show?’

‘Does it look like I’m joking.’ You cocked your head to the side, growing tired of the conversation.

‘Darling,’ Your mother stepped towards you, her soothing voice bringing back memories you once wished to erase. She held out her arms, asking you for a hug. Frankly, you didn’t want to, you didn’t want her to think that she was forgiven but you couldn’t fight the urge any longer.

Her arms found themselves around your back, pulling you into a tight embrace as you buried your face into her neck. You were sure she could feel the dampness of your tears on her skin and clothing.                                           It was quiet in the room. Neither you or her said anything, only her reassuring shushing accompanied your muffled sobs.

You finally had your mother back. After years of searching, pain, sadness and anger, you had her back. Your heart was slowly patching up again because you could never truly hate her.

She continued to hold you tight, her warm hand rubbing circles on your back just like she used to when you got bad marks in Transfiguration.

‘Everything she said is true,’ Narcissa sounded defeated.

You let yourself out of your mother’s embrace you longed for for all these years and looked at her, and then them.

‘My real, real name is Narcissa Malfoy and this is my daughter, Y/n Malfoy.’

The corner of your mouth lifted for just a second not wanting to give her satisfaction after she had done the bare minimum of telling the truth.

‘My family,’ she looked at you before correcting herself, ‘My husband, son and I committed a terrible crime of following the so-called Dark Lord, who believed pure-blooded wizards were better than others. We destroyed so many lives, especially those of the young that fought to protect the school where the battle took place.’ She continued with a heavy heart. ‘I was ashamed and had to get out of that world to save myself. My daughter never followed his lead so she didn’t face any hate, only that she was my daughter. I came here for a fresh start. Abandoned my family and magic to live a normal life.’

Tommy, Arthur, John, and Michael were silent like the moments before an execution.

‘But,’ Michael said unsure, taking his time to find the right words. ‘If you’re her mother,’ he gestured to you, ‘then what am I?’

‘Michael,’ Narcissa chuckled. ‘You’re still my son. I birthed you. You have my blood. I came here in 1884 and worked a bit of magic. All I did was become a part of the Shelby family. You are all still my family. My blood.‘

‘We never doubted that, Polly.’ Said Arthur. ‘But that is one hell of a lie, cover up, whatever you wanna fuckin’ call it.’

You sat back down in the chair you previously sat in before your mother came through the back door. Your body felt ten times heavier, you felt lightheaded and overwhelmed.

‘I never lied.’ Polly said in an even tone. ‘Don’t you dare accuse me of lying, Arthur. I am still your family.’

Your heart was racing as your chest tightened; it felt as if the center of your head — right behind your nose was being pulled. A ringing noise shrilled in your ears. You stood up and felt like you had drunk enough alcohol for the entire month. Your hands clasped your ears as you tried to stop the awful sound from penetrating your ears but it didn’t help.

‘Y/n, are you alright?’ Your mother’s worrying voice barely made it past the ringing in your ears.

You tried to answer but you couldn’t let out a sound. Suddenly your knees buckled, and what looked like black clouds pressed their way into your vision.

All of this was too much. But the hardest part would be if you were going to leave for the Wizarding World or to stay with your mother, who despite everything she’s done was still your mother. Would you abandon your mother like she did you? Or would you stay by her side?