Hey guys! Welcome back. Sorry it took me so long to update, there is absolutely no reason why it should have taken so long! I actually had most of this chapter written for a while, but for some reason I had a really bad writer's block. You see.. there were two directions in which this story could have gone, and I had to choose one. In fact, I'm going to have to change a small thing in one of the previous chapters to make the story line up. However, I think the change will be better in the long run.

DISCLAIMER: Again, none of these characters aren't mine. I'm borrowing them."

Draco knew going out into the floor was a bad idea, but he could not help ignoring his own instincts.

For a moment, and for one single moment, he'd felt accomplished. The main reason being that everyone in his shop had a smile on their face; they were happy. It was even more unbelievable to think, that everyone's smiles had to do with him. He felt something warm blossoming in his chest, and it had been so long since he'd felt it, that it took him a moment to recognize what it was. It was pride.

He was proud of himself.

All of that was promptly ruined when Ron "Weasel" announced himself with the strongest intention of crushing his trachea. Draco could see the Weasel's mouth moving, but he could not understand what he was saying. The Weasel's face was red, and there was spittle flying out of his mouth.

Ew…

"Death eater scum!"

Oh, that's what he's on about… Everything makes so much more sense now…

Weasel began jerking his throat around, and consequently smashing his head against the wall. If he had ever considered the notion of struggling, it was now impossible due to the colorful spots blocking his vision. Draco had been strangled before, and although the first time had been appropriately terrifying, this time he could really care less. Nobody would miss him; he had no children, no parents, and no significant other. While he did have a job, and a squib as a friend, he really couldn't make the slightest effort to motivate himself to at least, try to live. In his mind, he had absolutely nothing to fight for. If anything, he felt he should welcome death with open arms.

Is this how Severus felt?

Is this how mother felt?

He could feel his legs numbing, as if they didn't exist anymore. The feeling slowly crept towards his torso, and then his arms, then his throat, which he was thankful for.

The numbness was slowly creeping towards his head, and his brain filled with spots, and behind it, a blinding light. He stopped trying to breathe. After all, he no longer had lungs he could feel. He could no longer support himself, and leaned into Weasel. As the last vestiges of his strength slipped away, he was able to hear Bucktooth Granger yell something.

'What a lonely way to die.'

Then he was gone.

/

"Come now darling, wake up."

Who was talking to him?

"Oh come on! We don't have much time!"

"Please wake up Draco, please!"

His eyelashes fluttered. He caught sight of something pale.

"Draco!"

Who was that? He should know that voice…..

"Wake up please!"

Mother?

Mother.

Mother!?

He opened his eyes and sat up, nearly bumping heads with none other than Narcissa Malfoy.

"Mum?" He choked out.

His mother's expression softened, and she gathered him into her arms, both of them still on the ground.

"Yes, it's me," she said, as she slowly stroked his hair with pale fingers. Draco could smell the slight scent of roses and honey, which were a trademark of Narcissa Malfoy, due to her extended periods of time gardening.

'It smelled like… It smelled like home.'

He could feel her against him. Her hair brushing his face, her pointy, defined nose brushing his neck. In fact, it was the same type of nose that Draco had. The one he had inherited from her.

She smelled like his mother, sounded like his mother, felt like his mother, but it couldn't possibly be true.

The real Narcissa Malfoy died two years ago.

"You're dead," he whispered into her ear.

She slowly pulled away from the embrace, and reached out toward his face; his cheek.

Her fingers came back wet.

He didn't realize he had been crying.

"Oh my child," her expression became solemn, "I've missed you so much, my beloved Dragon."

No, it wasn't possible, she was DEAD.

He leapt away from her, his abrupt motion causing Narcissa to lose her balance on her knees and crash on her bum.

"You're dead!" He screamed, now standing up, towering above his mother. "You're gone! He took you and you're never coming back!" He screamed at her with such volume, that towards the end, his voice became hoarse, unintentionally becoming weaker.

"No," she begged, "I'm real, I'm here, but if we don't hurry, you'll be staying here as well."

"No!" he screamed. "You're not real!"

Narcissa out of desperation stood up reached out, her heart breaking when her son desperately tried to move beyond her reach. In the moment of confusion, she managed to reach her him, and held his face between her palms, slowly wiping the tears from his cheeks with her thumbs.

"You have to believe me, please, we don't have much time. There are so many things I want to tell you, many, many things that we sadly don't have the time for now."

He stared deep into his supposed mother's eyes, searching for something. His face showing the mental tug of war that was going on inside.

Then, without much warning, wrenched his mother's hands from his face and stepped away from, his mouth turning into a cruel smile.

"Come now 'mother' you should know what to do, as 'us' Malfoys know best. Give me proof. Maybe you can't. You can't be her, and it's pathetic that you're even trying. YOU, trying to deceive ME…. I, who heard her dying screams, saw her blood splattering onto the floor…."

"Don't insult me, I may be a mockery of what I used to be, but I'm still a Malfoy." At this point he sneered, eyes haunted, "PROVE IT TO ME, TELL ME WHAT NO ONE OUTSIDE OF MYSELF KNOWS!," he shouted.

"WHO KILLED YOU?!"

Narcissa, who had kept her eyes toward the ground throughout his entire tirade, raised them, and with a hint of steel in her tone, answered.

"Lucius Malfoy."