The Girl Who Lived (Draco Malfoy x OC)

The Girl Who Lived

February 5th 1998

Song Recommendation: The Night King by Ramin Djawadi

Narcissa Malfoy looked away when Harper Potter was struck down with the killing curse. Her husband fleetingly touched her hand with his, an act of warning, just in case another Death Eater saw her flinch. They may have been convinced to despise the fortuitous girl, but Narcissa was always a mother first and watching another woman's child die so mercilessly was not something that came easy for her.

Especially when this was the child who had enraptured her only son's heart.

She had seen it, the way her son looked at the girl at King's Cross Station. The first time she noticed it was in Draco's second year, he stared wide-eyed at her while waiting to board the train. She was so spirited and happy, at first she assumed Draco was watching Potter in envy, wishing to play so unashamedly with his friends like she was - Lucius was always so hard on him - but as they waited the next year, she could see the way his eyes lit up at her presence.

He loved to tease her, he loved her attention. The boy would even come home scorning about Harper Potter and how great everyone thought she was. Narcissa didn't buy the mask of revulsion he always emphasised when he saw her. No one else ever made Draco feel so strongly and when she would ask him why he hated her; she would smirk at his loss for words. Lucius, the typically oblivious male, had even discouraged their rivalry at first; believing it didn't reflect well for them to be on poor terms with such a famous person.

So when Draco freed and escaped with Potter, she wasn't shocked, appalled or disappointed - but afraid. Afraid of what this would mean for her son and his future should the Dark Lord rise above all.

As the killing curse struck Potter and she fell, so had Lord Voldemort. Everyone paused for a breath-holding second as neither body moved. Then slowly, the Dark Lord attempted to sit up. Her sister Bellatrix at his side immediately.

"My lord, let me help you," Bellatrix asked.

The Death Eater's then huddled to be seen caring, but as he stood, they rushed away.

"I do not require assistance," the Dark Lord said. "The girl... is she dead?"

Everyone stilled, having abandoned the young girl's body in favour of checking if Lord Voldemort was okay. As if controlled by one brain cell, they looked to the feeble, strewn body in unison.

"You!" He pointed viciously to Narcissa. "Examine her, tell me if she is dead."

Narcissa kept a cool face, walking slowly to the body and hiding any tremor of weakness or fear she felt ransacking her. She made it this far in her counterfeiting, she could make it further. She could feel everyone's concentration fixed upon her as she moved, pressuring her not to make the slightest wrong gesture.

When Potter came into her view, her heart leapt into her throat. It was a mortifying sight. One she was thankful Draco wouldn't have to see as he would surely be heartbroken. Nevertheless, even in her downfall, Potter resembled an angel. Her skin a white glow against her dark, auburn hair. Black long lashes on her delicate eyelids, you could have mistaken her for being asleep if you hadn't just seen the killing curse strike her.

She knelt by and cupped her face, startled by the warmth. Her hands ran down to her chest, pressing her palm against her heart. It was pounding ferociously. Narcissa struggled to contain her composure as her own heart rate increased. She wasn't sure if she was excited to learn Potter had survived or terrified for the impending wrath of Lord Voldemort.

"Potter?" She whispered so lightly it was barely audible.

There was no response, perhaps the girl was too afraid despite having just faced the Dark Lord. Narcissa wanted her trust and only knew one other way to do it.