His love

⚕️ Chapter 1: A dark Path ⚕️

The sprawling grounds of Malfoy Manor were cloaked in mist, as a cold wind swept across the estate. Inside the grand mansion, the atmosphere was equally tense. Lucius Malfoy stood by the large windows in the master suite, hands clasped behind his back, his gaze distant. His thoughts were consumed by the weight of the decision he and his wife had made.

On the bed, Narcissa Malfoy, pale and breathless, clutched the sheets in agony as the pains of labor surged through her. Beside her, a midwife busied herself with gentle reassurances and damp cloths, but her face could not hide the fear lurking beneath her professional calm. She, too, had heard the rumors—the whispers about a pact that would change the fate of the Malfoy family forever.

Lucius turned from the window as Narcissa let out a low moan. He walked to her side, his expression carefully controlled, though his heart pounded in his chest. He had never imagined it would come to this. But in the dark times they lived in, sacrifices had to be made.

"My love," Lucius whispered, brushing a damp strand of hair from Narcissa's forehead, "it will all be over soon. Stay strong."

Narcissa's grip tightened on the sheets as another wave of pain wracked her body. Her voice trembled as she spoke, her words barely a whisper. "Lucius...are we doing the right thing?"

Lucius didn't answer immediately. He knew what she meant, and he, too, had wrestled with the question many sleepless nights. But the Dark Lord's power was growing, and to refuse him was not an option. This was the price they had to pay.

Before Lucius could respond, the midwife's voice broke through the tension. "It's time, my lord. The first child is coming."

With a cry of pain, Narcissa bore down, and moments later, the sound of a baby's cry filled the room. The midwife carefully wrapped the newborn boy in a soft green blanket adorned with silver embroidery, the symbol of the Malfoy family. She handed the child to Narcissa, who cradled him with trembling hands, her face softening despite her exhaustion.

"Draco," she murmured, gazing down at her son. "Our heir."

Lucius looked down at his son with pride, but the weight in his chest grew heavier. Draco was the firstborn, the child who would carry on the Malfoy name. But there was another child yet to be born—the child they had promised to the Dark Lord.

The midwife's voice came again, more urgent this time. "There is another, my lady."

Narcissa's breath caught, and her eyes filled with tears. She had known this moment was coming, but now that it was here, the reality of what they had agreed to felt unbearable. The room seemed to darken as she was gripped by the pains of labor once more.

Minutes later, another cry pierced the air. The midwife held up the second child, a girl, her tiny face scrunched up as she wailed. Narcissa looked at her daughter, and her heart broke. This was the child they would lose, the one destined for a dark future.

"Daphne," Narcissa whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Our precious Daphne."

Lucius reached out and touched the infant's forehead, his face expressionless. The deal had been struck long ago. Voldemort had chosen this child, sensing a strength in her that he desired. At fourteen, she would be taken from them and made his wife, bound to his service for the rest of her life. In exchange, the Malfoys would be granted the Dark Lord's protection and favor.

As if on cue, a sudden chill swept through the room, and the shadows in the corners seemed to stretch and twist. A figure materialized near the foot of the bed, draped in black robes, his pale face hidden beneath the hood.

Voldemort.

Narcissa's breath caught in her throat, and Lucius immediately stepped back, bowing his head in deference.