Left Behind 3: Curses

The Dark Mark

Narcissa Malfoy's back was wrenched from leaning over Draco, casting healing spells for hours to no avail. Still she did not stop because at least when she was casting them she felt as if she were doing something, and while she kept casting the little tendrils of black did not grow quite so quickly.

Though she could not halt them in their progress...

Finally, to exhausted to move she collapsed against Draco weeping openly.

This was her son.

Her only son.

The light of her life.

Her happiness.

What kind of a mother would she be if she let him die.

You wouldn't be a mother at all, fear whispered in her ear.

"No," she protested weakly.

As if from outside herself completely a second thought came through the muddled emotional haze that was clouding her mind.

She knew the curse drew its power from the dark mark...

So if the dark mark wasn't there...

Narcissa swallowed. She had seen what happened to people who tried to remove the dark mark.

There is nothing worse that can be done to me, she thought, than loosing him. Although the idea of tampering with the mark made Narcissa quiver with fear once the possibility of saving her son through that action took hold there was no letting go of it.

If you do this there is no going back, her mind warned.

I don't care, she answered. I could not live with myself knowing I might have saved him and did nothing.

Narcissa took a deep breath and turned her wand towards Draco's arm. Her hand trembled.

There were a dozen spells that came to mind.

She would try them all until one worked.

"Deletrius," she cast at the Mark.

A black blast threw Narcissa backward and a ghastly black smoke like snake rose from the mark on Draco's arm and hissed at Narcissa.

"Narcissssisssa..." The Dark Lord's voice echoed in Narcissa's mind. "What do you think you are doing?"

"I am trying to save my son," she answered back.

"Sssssooooo, you thought that removing my mark would help?"

A fiery shock lanced through Narcissa's head and she let out a cry of pain.

"YES!" she screamed the response, clutching her scull in agony.

"Do Not touch my mark, or I will finish him mysssssself." The smoke began to fade and retreat back into the mark. "I will come to you ssssoooon, until then do not try that again..." his voice was dark. "Or you will regret it."

"He doesn't have much time..."

A great wind blew through the room knocking Narcissa's head against wall. Stars clouded her vision and yet she fought them back. If the Dark Lord was coming then he must be coming to help. There had to be some kind of a safeguard that prevented the removal of the mark by anyone other than Voldemort.

"I will make sure he lives till then," Narcissa said aloud and pushed herself up off the ground.

The room spun and by sheer force of will she righted herself and made her way to the bed where she picked up her wand and began casting once more.