[FIC] Futile Protection. NM, LM, V, DM, BL. PG-13.
TITLE: Futile Protection
AUTHOR: Jessi, princessjessia ( Disclaimer)
FANDOM: Harry Potter
CHARACTERS: Narcissa - peripherally Voldemort, Lucius, Draco, Bellatrix
SUMMARY: She would not run.
RATING: PG-13 (Implied torture, which I'm going to hell for)
WORD COUNT: 735
WARNINGS: Deathly Hallows SPOILERS in story; spoilerish notes under cut
CROSS-POSTED: cissa_centric, _toujours__pur_, princessjessia
NOTES: I certainly listen to myself well. I said no fic of this point in canon, but this bit would not go away until I wrote it and since ficcing has been so hard for me for months, I'm not going to kill the bunnies that see fit to visit. Thankfully, my brain will not let me go into detail, otherwise I would have cried at writing that.
==============
...and his scar prickled and burned, and in one part of his mind, viewed as if from the wrong end of a long telescope, he saw Voldemort punishing those they left behind at Malfoy Manor.
“You still have your wand, Narcissa, yet Harry Potter escaped?”
“Yes, my Lord.” Blonde head bowed, Narcissa stood before the wizard with her spine still straight, a contrast of learned deference and the instinct of arrogant carriage. The answer to the Dark Lord's question was hardly necessary for her to give, but the words were all about lip service. Lip service that would still not work in a moment, as she had already watched her husband punished before her very eyes - the wound inside of her cheek still flowing with blood from her attempts to keep from screaming out for it to stop - and Bellatrix and the others as well; one by one every person in the room when Harry Potter and his little friends had escaped had suffer the wrath of the Dark Lord.
Except two. Among them remained Draco and her, though how it had come to that, she could not say, at least initially. Perhaps they had simply been furthest away from the Dark Lord's vision when he had arrived and began his mad spree of torture. The rest had been of Narcissa's doing.
The Dark Lord had eventually ceased screaming out his rage so harshly as he had systematically taken the others down, his voice slipping slowly back to that tone that made him sound predator-like, toying with his pray before pouncing to injure. Though she wished desperately to hide Draco completely from view, she had only managed to get him to the back and side of her, furthest from the Dark Lord's direct line of vision before that anger had been turned on her.
She would not run.
If he spent even more of his energy on her as he already had on the others, there would be less left for Draco to endure. Near her, Draco made a chocking sort of sound and her gaze slid sideways, anticipating that her child would be foolish enough to plead for her safety. The pleas would fall on ears long deaf to anything that might inspire mercy.
Her blue-eyed gazed pierced Draco, even from this angle, and he fell silent, watching the scene almost unblinkingly. The terror in his eyes now was all too familiar as of late and a seeping poison in her soul. Her only child had been made to suffer for crimes not his own and it had only become worse in the passing months.
A low groan reached her ears as the Dark Lord stepped back slightly and Narcissa nearly lost her iron grip on herself trying to smother the urge to look at Lucius. He was becoming aware of what was going on, having been one of the first to be punished and left unintentionally but mercifully alone after that, and his objections would only bring him more agony. She would not see him suffer further. A silent cry echoed in her head, one to lay still and quiet, and though it was not audible, Lucius thankfully stopped just the same.
As she waited for the Dark Lord to strike, part of her also waited for the familiar, shrieking sound of “Not Cissy!” to come from Bellatrix's lips. Draco and Lucius had both voiced some objection but it was Bellatrix's she truly expected after all these years. Even a muted groan at this point.
But it never came.
Growing up, Narcissa had always simply known she would be protected - and yes, even foolishly coddled - by both her elder sisters. She may not have always needed it or wanted it, but it was simply the manner of things. She had been treated as the baby of the family, even as she had grown to be a capable and formidable witch, but the years had changed that too. Bellatrix had given her allegiance and everything within her to her Master and Andromeda... Andromeda had abandoned them for a Muggleborn.
Startlingly, she realized in that moment that, despite Andromeda's betrayal, one Narcissa had taken so personally as abandonment of their close bond as siblings, Andromeda would have voiced the objection. Andromeda, for all her faults in Narcissa's eyes and in the eyes of the Black family, would have likely fought even torture to save a sister, just as Narcissa was trying to protect, in some futile way, her child. Truly, perhaps Andromeda was not so different from her after...
“Crucio!”
AUTHOR: Jessi, princessjessia ( Disclaimer)
FANDOM: Harry Potter
CHARACTERS: Narcissa - peripherally Voldemort, Lucius, Draco, Bellatrix
SUMMARY: She would not run.
RATING: PG-13 (Implied torture, which I'm going to hell for)
WORD COUNT: 735
WARNINGS: Deathly Hallows SPOILERS in story; spoilerish notes under cut
CROSS-POSTED: cissa_centric, _toujours__pur_, princessjessia
NOTES: I certainly listen to myself well. I said no fic of this point in canon, but this bit would not go away until I wrote it and since ficcing has been so hard for me for months, I'm not going to kill the bunnies that see fit to visit. Thankfully, my brain will not let me go into detail, otherwise I would have cried at writing that.
==============
...and his scar prickled and burned, and in one part of his mind, viewed as if from the wrong end of a long telescope, he saw Voldemort punishing those they left behind at Malfoy Manor.
“You still have your wand, Narcissa, yet Harry Potter escaped?”
“Yes, my Lord.” Blonde head bowed, Narcissa stood before the wizard with her spine still straight, a contrast of learned deference and the instinct of arrogant carriage. The answer to the Dark Lord's question was hardly necessary for her to give, but the words were all about lip service. Lip service that would still not work in a moment, as she had already watched her husband punished before her very eyes - the wound inside of her cheek still flowing with blood from her attempts to keep from screaming out for it to stop - and Bellatrix and the others as well; one by one every person in the room when Harry Potter and his little friends had escaped had suffer the wrath of the Dark Lord.
Except two. Among them remained Draco and her, though how it had come to that, she could not say, at least initially. Perhaps they had simply been furthest away from the Dark Lord's vision when he had arrived and began his mad spree of torture. The rest had been of Narcissa's doing.
The Dark Lord had eventually ceased screaming out his rage so harshly as he had systematically taken the others down, his voice slipping slowly back to that tone that made him sound predator-like, toying with his pray before pouncing to injure. Though she wished desperately to hide Draco completely from view, she had only managed to get him to the back and side of her, furthest from the Dark Lord's direct line of vision before that anger had been turned on her.
She would not run.
If he spent even more of his energy on her as he already had on the others, there would be less left for Draco to endure. Near her, Draco made a chocking sort of sound and her gaze slid sideways, anticipating that her child would be foolish enough to plead for her safety. The pleas would fall on ears long deaf to anything that might inspire mercy.
Her blue-eyed gazed pierced Draco, even from this angle, and he fell silent, watching the scene almost unblinkingly. The terror in his eyes now was all too familiar as of late and a seeping poison in her soul. Her only child had been made to suffer for crimes not his own and it had only become worse in the passing months.
A low groan reached her ears as the Dark Lord stepped back slightly and Narcissa nearly lost her iron grip on herself trying to smother the urge to look at Lucius. He was becoming aware of what was going on, having been one of the first to be punished and left unintentionally but mercifully alone after that, and his objections would only bring him more agony. She would not see him suffer further. A silent cry echoed in her head, one to lay still and quiet, and though it was not audible, Lucius thankfully stopped just the same.
As she waited for the Dark Lord to strike, part of her also waited for the familiar, shrieking sound of “Not Cissy!” to come from Bellatrix's lips. Draco and Lucius had both voiced some objection but it was Bellatrix's she truly expected after all these years. Even a muted groan at this point.
But it never came.
Growing up, Narcissa had always simply known she would be protected - and yes, even foolishly coddled - by both her elder sisters. She may not have always needed it or wanted it, but it was simply the manner of things. She had been treated as the baby of the family, even as she had grown to be a capable and formidable witch, but the years had changed that too. Bellatrix had given her allegiance and everything within her to her Master and Andromeda... Andromeda had abandoned them for a Muggleborn.
Startlingly, she realized in that moment that, despite Andromeda's betrayal, one Narcissa had taken so personally as abandonment of their close bond as siblings, Andromeda would have voiced the objection. Andromeda, for all her faults in Narcissa's eyes and in the eyes of the Black family, would have likely fought even torture to save a sister, just as Narcissa was trying to protect, in some futile way, her child. Truly, perhaps Andromeda was not so different from her after...
“Crucio!”