WC: 2,890

Written for:

- QLFC Round 3: This round is going to focus on your team - that's to say your team name is your prompt: Arrow(s). In addition to this, there will be a word count restriction.

WC Bracket: 2751-3000

It was an arrow that pierced the wrong heart, A pure heart, a white heart—not a dark heart, like his. Draco should have taken the arrow, not her. It was an accident that wasn't supposed to happen.

Draco clenched his fists as he stood alone in front of her grave, a simple, white marble headstone, engraved with detailed angel wings. It was the perfect way to commemorate the most perfect woman.

It was dismal in the cemetery where she had been buried; the rain fell in thick grey sheets, and it was only the charm that Draco had cast around his person that prevented him from becoming soaked. It was such a cliché that Draco wondered if someone had cast an enchantment upon the graveyard to make it grey and dismal year-round. He could swear that it had been a dry, if not cloudy day, before he entered the cemetery.

But it didn't really matter. He reached out with a pale hand and traced the engraved letters on the headstone, writing the image into his memory. How he regretted allowing her to do what she did. How he regretted not standing in the way.

Was he a coward like his father, or did he notice too late? It was a question that would haunt him to his own dying day.

oOo

Astoria smiled warmly and nodded to Narcissa's request. A look of sheer excitement passed across the older woman's usually stoic expression, and she reached forwards. With her extended palms, she caressed Astoria's swollen belly.

"He's kicking; can you feel that?" Astoria asked, taking hold of Narcissa's hand and guiding it to the source of movement. Narcissa was delighted.

"What a strong little wizard," she mused. "Just like Draco." Her smile met Draco's eyes, but he returned it with a frown. Since Voldemort's downfall, Draco felt nothing like the strong little wizard that his mother spent years forcing him to believe. He felt like just that—nothing.

But life had to go on, and he couldn't sit around wallowing in despair, as much as he would like to. Eventually, he had chosen to reconnect with Astoria, marry her for the simplicity of such a life, and get her pregnant. A son would soon be born, and the Malfoy line would continue. Draco only hoped that he could do his son justice, and ensure he didn't turn out like his wretched father.

Narcissa's smile faded at Draco's lack of response, and she retracted her hand. "Anyway, dinner's almost ready," she announced. "Shall we take to the dining room?" They walked from the drawing room to the dining hall together, Astoria and Narcissa chatting animatedly, and Draco lagging behind.

As he watched his mother's face lift into a wrinkled smile at Astoria, a slight swell of happiness welled in his gut. He was glad that his marriage to Astoria had given Narcissa her light back. Throughout all the darkness that had consumed their family, she had spent years in distress alongside Draco. When she eventually divorced Lucius, things got a little better. Due to their prenuptial agreements, Narcissa was allowed to keep the Malfoy estate. She had spent months turning the manor into a vision of pale shades and flowers. She covered the larger windows with swatches of iridescent fabric, allowing the sunlight to shine in, and the place no longer felt like the hall of death that the Malfoys before them had created.

So long as his mother was happy, Draco was too. He had always taken for granted everything she had done for him, how she had protected him,and now, he wanted to keep her in good spirits. He was lucky to have kept her when so many of his friends had lost their parents to either death or Azkaban.

They reached the dining room, and Draco sat opposite his mother and wife, waiting patiently for his dinner to arrive. He had no interest in joining in the animated conversation that the two women were having, but he nodded and and smiled at the right moments, whenever they looked towards him for approval or reinforcement.

Eventually, the sounds of their voices began to drone out, and Draco found himself focusing on the window behind Astoria and Narcissa, instead. It was nearly dark outside, the time when the sun has almost set, and the sky, streaked haphazardly with streams of cloud,has melted into a delicious mixture of pink and orange. However, it wasn't the sky that Draco was focusing on. He had noticed movement a little way down the gardens: an unnatural flurry in the hedges; wet footprints appearing on the pebbled pathway; the way the garden peacocks edged cautiously away from the source of movement. He squinted, trying to focus on what was out there...it was like he could see the person or creature, but just out of the corner of his eye...

All of a sudden, the three Malfoys were surprised by the window shattering instantly. A large, heavy rock had been hurled at breakneck speed, causing the glass to explode and shards to blow out across the dining room. Narcissa and Astoria jumped to their feet, and Astoria rushed over to the now broken window, peering out into the garden.

"Astoria, move away from there!" Draco demanded, climbing out of his own chair. But it was too late.

"The traitor Malfoys will not be allowed to continue their line!" a tiny voice shrieked from the garden. Before anyone could react, something thin, sharp, and deadly flew through the window...

...and it was as if life was suddenly moving in slow motion. The arrow, jet black and malignant, soared towards it's target and struck her right above the heart.

Astoria blinked for a moment, and then blood began to trickle out of her open mouth. Her eyes, which were wide and set on Draco, fluttered shut, and she fell, knees first, to the ground. Draco rushed forward, managing to catch her before she landed flat on her inflated stomach.

Narcissa screamed a hysterical cry of outrage, and whipped her wand from her sleeve, shooting curse after curse through the broken window. When she was satisfied that the intruder was either dead or severely unconscious, she repaired the window with another wave of her wand, and rushed to Draco's side.

He was clutching Astoria, his bottom lip trembling. He hadn't moved whilst Narcissa was ridding the garden of whomever had shot the arrow;he had no idea what to do. He could see the light leaving Astoria's pretty green eyes, and her hand that was gripping her stomach was becoming slack.

"Mother..." he whispered, a combination of horror and woe pouring through his entire person. It was true that the relationship between him and Astoria was more of an arrangement than love at first sight, but he couldn't deny that he had grown to care for her—even more so, upon discovering that she was pregnant with his child. As each week of her pregnancy had progressed, he'd admired her more and more. He couldn't wait to share this baby with her, but now all of that had been ripped away.

"Shh, shh," Narcissa soothed, and she shooed Draco out of the way. Draco was glad that she was so calm, for he was sure that his own heart was being ripped out of his chest and squeezed right in front of him. What had he done to deserve this?

Of course, he had done everything to deserve this. But the intruder should have struck and killed him, not Astoria. She was innocent, and so was the baby. They didn't deserve to...

Draco clenched his fists. No. They weren't going to die. He wouldn't allow it. He knelt down at Astoria's side as Narcissa examined her. "You can fix it, right?" he whispered, not daring to meet his mother's gaze.

Astoria made several noises of discomfort as Narcissa removed the black arrow from her chest and tossed it aside, turning back to attend to the wound. "That arrow was cursed, Draco," she replied quietly. "Dark magic created this wound, so normal magic won't heal her."

Draco peered at the wound in Astoria's chest. It was a thin, gurgling hole, spitting blood that looked more black than red. Narcissa was doing her best to staunch the flow of blood with an unspoken spell, but the arrow had struck Astoria deep. She was bleeding out, and slowly.

Suddenly, Astoria's entire body tensed up, and her face rippled with pain. "What's happening to her?" Draco demanded to know, slapping his wife gently on her cold cheek. Narcissa's brow furrowed, and she turned her attention to Astoria's lower half. Draco turned his face away politely as Narcissa reached under Astoria's robes.

"She's ten centimetres dilated."

"That's impossible!" scoffed Draco, turning to glare at his mother. "She wasn't even in labour! She had no contractions or anything!"

"It must be whatever that arrow was poisoned with," Narcissa concluded. "It's sped the labour right up to crowning point, as a way of expelling the baby from her body." Draco cringed as another contraction passed through Astoria's near-lifeless body. "We need to get her to a bed," Narcissa ordered, and she used her wand to levitate Astoria through the manor, finally laying her down on the bed she shared with Draco.

By time they reached the bed, Astoria was clammy, and her eyes were rolling into the back of her head. She was still alive, but barely, and made little to no sound, but Draco could see that the contractions were paining her greatly. "It'll be okay," Draco soothed, pushing a clump of damp brown hair out of her eyes. "Just stay with me."

Astoria whispered something inaudible, and Draco continued to wipe her forehead gently. "Draco, I need you to fetch hot water and towels," Narcissa ordered, and Draco looked at her blankly. "Quickly!" she added in a snap, and he jumped to his feet, rushing out of the bedroom.

His head was swimming. Less than an hour ago, he was just about to sit down to dinner with his mother and his wife. How had the evening taken such a drastic turn? "Accio towels," he muttered, pointing his wand towards the bathroom. "Accio bucket!" A bundle of clean white towels sped towards him, followed by the heavy metal bucket, which he filled magically with boiling water. He rushed back into the bedroom to Astoria's side, handing his mother the towels and placing the bucket of water on the ground.

A pained moan seeped from Astoria's lips, and her head thrashed left and right on the pillow. "You're almost there, darling," Narcissa promised. "I can see his head."

Draco clutched his wife's hand, using his other hand to dab her forehead with one of the towels. "You're doing so well!" he said. "You're doing great."

"No," Astoria begged, digging her fingernails into Draco's knuckles. "Something is wrong."

"One big push, Astoria!"

"I can't!"

"You can!" Draco assured her, meeting her eyes directly. "Deep breaths...and push!" Astoria nodded slowly, taking several long breaths, before finally putting all of her strength into one final push. Her scream rattled through the manor, but it was over within seconds. Finally, a tiny cry shattered every other sound in the bedroom.

"He's here," Narcissa breathed, beaming up at Draco. She used her wand to sever the umbilical cord, and then wrapped the baby in a towel before handing him over to Astoria.

Draco watched as his wife pressed a gentle kiss to the baby's head. "I love you, Scorpius." He sat on the bed beside her and reached out to gently stroke Scorpius's pale cheek.

"You did so well, Astoria," he said, looking at Astoria. When she was motionless, his brow furrowed. "Astoria?" He nudged her shoulder gently, and her arms fell slack, making Scorpius slip down onto the bed.

"Draco, take Scorpius to the Moses basket," Narcissa ordered. Scorpius's nursery had been set up for a while, just in case Astoria went into an unexpected labour. He nodded, scooping his child into his arms and hurrying away from the bed. He turned around just as he reached the door, spotting his mother holding Astoria's wrist between her fingers.

"Is she alive?" Draco asked through a hoarse breath. There was a sad look on Narcissa's face. He didn't want to believe it.

"Barely," Narcissa whispered. "Go, Draco." She used her wand hand to wave dismissively at Draco, and he was suddenly pushed back by a gust of wind before the door slammed in his face.

oOo

Tears leaked down Draco's face as he sat in front of the gravestone. "Why did you do it?" he whispered. "There would have been another way."

"Draco?" a familiar female voice called out. Draco jumped up and spun around. Through the dark, rain-drenched cemetery, he could see a figure advancing towards him. The woman was pushing a pram, so Draco wiped his eyes quickly. He didn't want his son to see his father crying, no matter how young he was. He didn't want to be a coward.

"Yes?" he replied in a stiff voice.

"How long have you been out here? You must be freezing." The woman grew close enough to read the gravestone, and she sighed quietly. "You should have said you were coming to visit her. Scorpius and I would've come along too."

"I wanted to be alone," Draco murmured, crouching down to peer into the pram. Scorpius, a six-month-old with a mop of pale blond hair and bright eyes, beamed up at his father. Draco reached in to take hold of his son's pudgy little hand and smiled back at him.

The woman rested her hand on Draco's back. "I have a lot to thank her for as well, Draco," she whispered. Draco reared back up, staring back into the woman's face. Her sharp features were downcast, but her familiar green eyes were glittering up at him. "Narcissa was just as much a mother to me as she was to you."

oOo

When Draco returned to the bedroom, he expected Astoria to be dead. He didn't for a moment consider what would actually be happening.

Narcissa was on the bed beside Astoria, hovering over her body. Their faces were so close that, Narcissa's blonde hair hung over Astoria. For one dreadful moment, Draco thought that his mother was kissing Astoria's corpse—but then he realised that their lips weren't actually touching.

Something else was amiss, too. Before he left, Astoria was deathly pale, but now there was a distinct rosy flush to her cheeks. Her hands were twitching, and her hair no longer looked limp and damp. His mother, on the other hand, looked dreadful. Her face, usually clear and wrinkle-free, was lined beyond her years. Great, purple bags shadowed her eyes, and worst of all, her beautiful blonde hair was falling out in clumps, showering Astoria with a soft net of pale, silvery threads.

"Mother!" Draco cried out, rushing towards the pair of them. But Narcissa still had more strength than Draco anticipated. She had her wand in her hand still, and she pointed it at Draco without taking her face away from Astoria's, and he went flying back against the door, where he remained, unable to move. "Mother, stop it! There are other ways!"

He knew what she was doing. It was dark magic, though it was probably the most sacrificial thing that anyone could do. It was prohibited and difficult to learn, and something that was only taught through Pureblood lineage. When a person was near death, another witch or wizard could literally feed their life force into them. That was what Narcissa was doing now.

But there was one fatal side effect. Feeding one's life force into another person could only result in death. His mother was choosing to die to save Astoria.

Draco's heart broke into a further one hundred pieces, as he watched his mother literally wither away in front of him, while had no way of stopping her. There was so much that he wanted to say to her. She had so much more life ahead of her. But she was choosing to throw all of that away for her daughter-in-law.

Narcissa reared away from Astoria finally, and fell back onto the bed. Draco freed a sob. She no longer looked like the woman he had grown up with. Instead, an ancient creature lay in her place, with sagging grey skin and wisps of white hair. Astoria was breathing now, but she had passed out alongside her mother-in-law.

"Why, Mother?" Draco begged to know, staring over at her with watery eyes.

"I could never...let a child grow up...without a mother, Draco," she wheezed. She gasped for one final breath. "I will always love you, my son. I am...so...proud of you..."

oOo

"She was the most incredible woman, and a magnificent mother," Astoria told Draco as they stood in front of Narcissa Malfoy's grave, both of them clutching the handle of the pram. "I will never be able to repay her for such an outstanding debt."

"She loved you like you were her own," Draco murmured to his wife.

"And I loved her the same," Astoria replied. She leaned her head on her husband's shoulder, and they waited the night out together, standing by the grave of a supreme woman.