(1) 𝐍𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄 | d. m

Chapter thirty-one

When I first opened them again, my eyes burned as if I'd looked directly into the sun. Everything was pixelated, blurry, and I found it hard to make out anything but distinct patterns and shapes. Just like what I had experienced after Bellatrix's torture, I felt like I had died and returned as a living corpse. My whole body was quivering with the shock of it all, and I didn't know left from right. I was still on the floor, and my memory seemed to be tricking me, as I tried to make sense of what had happened; but couldn't. Everything was just... nightmare-esque.

As my eyesight began to slowly but surely clear up, I noticed that the room I was in was no longer occupied by Bellatrix and her team of vile followers. Instead, I was met with a horrifying and agonising emptiness, that seemed to latch itself onto me like a parasite. As I looked across the room where the duel between myself and Scabior had once taken place, I realized that it wasn't completely empty after all. I espied a shadow, overhead what looked like a mannequin, however the cries that could be heard coming from the shadow had me believing it was in fact a real person lying there.

I dragged myself over the cold, hard floor, feeling my body burn as I made my way over there.

That's when I saw it.

It was Draco. He was sobbing and it seemed like he'd never stop. He was holding onto Narcissa's cold and limp body, begging her to wake up. The light that had once inhabited her eyes had burned out, and there was no sign that she was ever alive. I could feel my whole body grieving for Draco, and I wanted nothing more than to take away his pain, even if that meant taking it for myself.

"She's fine", he whimpered, the tears streaming down his pale grey face, contrasting the sun that set over the horizon, and was now shining through the large windows. "She's fine. She's just sleeping—", he was trembling, in a complete state of shock. I tried to take hold of his arm, pushing myself closer to him, but he rejected my advances. Instead, I just sat there, in complete silence, breathing in and out in the same rhythm as him, waiting. Hoping. Praying for something I knew, deep down, wasn't going to happen. Narcissa was dead. She had sacrificed herself for the greater good. For Draco. For me. For us to have a chance at something better. A life without having to constantly look over our shoulders. A life without darkness.

A life with love.

***

We had a small funeral ceremony for her. All though, Draco was still not accepting what had happened, and was anything but willing to let her go, I somehow managed to persuade him into attending.

It was beautiful. Sad and tragic, but beautiful. It was about a week after it had happened, and I orchestrated the whole thing. Because of Bellatrix's and the other Death Eaters sudden neglect to torture me again, I was able to spend some time outdoors, and that's where I managed to pick out a few flowers. Even though it was December and people had just finished up their Christmas festivities, there was no sign of any snowfall. The ground had become somewhat slippery and frosty, but there was no snow covering it, and as I went for a midnight stroll around the mansion one night, I caught sight of the most beautiful flowers.

They were white, with upswept petals and patterned leaves. They seemed to grow from tiny tubers, and smelled somewhat like lily of the valley, but with a rare sort of sweetness to them. As soon as I picked them, something inside me told me that I needed to give them to Draco to plant next to his mother's grave. And so we did.

He didn't say anything. He just stood next to the grave, the flowers planted, with his head hung low and his eyes filled with crystal tears. I managed to sneak a hand up his shoulder, comforting him the best I could. I decided it wasn't my place to say anything either, so we stood there, in complete silence one more, letting the tears stream.