Before I Fall Into Deep Slumber


Narcissa Malfoy twitches in pain.

"Mother!"

Narcissa finds her last strength and lifts her hand slowly, hitting Draco's away.

He shakes his head, "There is nothing wrong with accepting help, mother.", he says and helps her to sit up in her bed, using his other hand to summon some water with his wand.

She drinks slowly, her cough fading, "My wand.", she says, her eyes barely open.

"Under your pillow, mother.", Draco replies, taking a seat by her bed, putting her hand in his. He trails soothing circles on the top of her hand. Her fingers feel like stick in between his palms.

Narcissa smiles, "Thank you, dear.", she says, grasping her wand with her other hand, "And send my greetings to Astoria."

Draco Malfoy nods.


(Cancer's a bitch.)


"My wand.", Narcissa Malfoy whispers, her eyes closed.

This time, Draco does not reply, but he simply walks to the top of her bed and reaches under her pillow. He puts the wand in her hands softly, gently putting her long fingers around it.

With a newfound strength, Narcissa bats her eyelids open and sits up in her bed. She moves her wand from one hand to the other, the feeling of it under her fingers almost unnatural, unreal, and when she finally settles it in her right palm, she mutters an incantation.

A box appears almost out of nowhere, and lightly flies across the room to lay on the sheets in front of her. She opens it slowly and takes out a small vial, a light smile appearing on her lips.

She gives him the small vial that seems to glow - and it does, he realises, it glows; it glows with memories - and before Draco can utter a word, Narcissa speaks, "Give it to Harry Potter."

Draco puts his fingers around the vial as tightly as he can without it breaking and nods, yet again, turning around to leave - leave to fulfill the unsaid promise - and steps on every bit of his pride while doing so.

Harry Potter will know what to do with this, he concludes.


(Narcissa Malfoy's last wish is to clear her son's name, and she will do that with the only thing she has left; her memories.)