I zipped up my makeup bag, looking numbly up at my reflection in the mirror, a heaviness in my heart as I was reminded of the day I had first started Hogwarts.

A tentative knock at the door.

"Come in." My voice was morose as I stepped away from the mirror to brush the creases from my dress.

Black.

Narcissa stepped inside, her eyes bloodshot red as they met mine. I immediately looked away, terrified of the emotions that clawed at my throat.

I would not cry.

"Oh, Blaire," she sobbed, striding across the room to circle her arms around my shoulders, burying her face in my hair as her body shook through her tears.

I closed my eyes, willing myself not to break down.

"Come on," I trembled, stepping back to wipe her tears from her face before clasping her hands tightly in mine. "It's time."

*****

We walked silently, arms linked as we crossed the graveyard towards the chapel where we were to say our final goodbye.

Narcissa shook next to me, her body wracked in sobs, and I wondered how on earth she would get through this. She was so frail, so ill.

A mass of bodies clad in black turned to us, falling silent in respect as we approached. The pity on their faces was too much and, once again, I looked away.

A white marbled headstone sitting just feet away caught my eye. My heart stilled. I knew that headstone. I knew the body that lay beneath the freshly turned earth.

"You go on," I whispered shakily in Narcissa's ear as mourners began to greet us, "I just need a minute."

She nodded, although I wondered if she'd even heard me through her grief.

Reaching the grave, I crouched down, gingerly touching the top of the marbled stone, smooth yet cold beneath my fingertips.

"Thank you," I whispered as tears spilled from my eyes and wet my cheeks.

A hand clamped down on my shoulder, fingertips digging lightly into my flesh. I didn't flinch.

"Don't do this," a voice murmured behind me. His voice was thick, pained.

I reached up, clasping my own hand over his.

"It wasn't her fault," I whispered as my eyes glanced up at the name on the headstone.

Astoria Greengrass.

"I won't ever forgive her for what she did," Draco said, crouching down behind me as he tenderly stroked my back. "I'm glad she saved your life, but she was the reason you and Jack were in danger in the first place."

I closed my eyes, remembering.

The second the Killing Curse had fallen from Voldemort's lips, Astoria had thrown herself in front of me, the effect of her sacrifice killing Voldemort instantly.

Why she did that, I'll probably never know.

But, despite her despicable behaviour leading up to it, I believed that some part of her felt as though she owed me her life; that maybe, in some twisted way, she had loved me.

I had witnessed a sort of restfulness fill her eyes as her body crumpled at my feet. She had not looked like someone who had died in vain, but rather like someone who had finally found peace.

Clearing out the home they had shared in their forced marriage, Draco had come across a diary Astoria had been writing in. It was clear from her scribblings that she had been suffering from some sort of psychosis. We deliberated over whether to hand it to her parents due to the fact that it suggested she had been having an affair with her sister's husband, but in the end we felt they needed answers.

As a result, Daphne chucked Theo out. Surprisingly though, she turned up at Astoria's funeral, claiming that she harboured no hate, saving it all instead for her husband who had been taking advantage of a mentally ill woman.

Draco, on the other hand, refused to feel any empathy towards her, wanting to lock her away in the past forever and move on.

"She was still Scorpius's mother." I had implored when he refused to attend her funeral.

"She may have given birth to him but she mistreated him in the few days she actually spent with him!" Draco had roared. "She was seen in Gringotts bank putting a Silencing Charm on him when he was clearly in distress! She was NOT his mother! You are his mother, and no one can tell me any different."

But I couldn't hate her. Which is why I was crouched down by her grave crying for her, for the girl who had been so frightened during the battle of Hogwarts and simply wanting to live her dreams.

"Oh, Blaire," Draco sighed softly as I wiped the tears from my damp cheeks.

I twisted around and buried my face in his neck, revelling in the comfort of his scent and presence.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as he circled his arms around me. "Today is about your father."

"It's okay," he murmured. I felt the gentle bob of his Adam's apple as he stroked my hair, holding me tightly against him. "You're amazing. That's why I love you."

Slowly, we stood up, Draco curling an arm around my waist as he pulled me into his side, kissing my forehead.

"How's she coping?" He asked, his grey eyes narrowing, clearly pained at the thought of his mother suffering.

"Not good," I replied honestly. "And the boys?"

"They're fine. Pansy has the whole day planned out of fun things to do with them. I think she misses Rose."

As promised, Pansy and Crabbe handed back Ron and Hermione's little girl upon their immediate release, ripping up the adoption papers for good measure.

To my relief, everyone was fine, if not a little scarred and in need of serious therapy. Kingsley was back in the Ministry and the Weasley's were back in the Burrow. And, to our relief, took Ginny off our hands.

The ungrateful bitch barely even muttered a thank you to us for saving the world as she strutted out of the treehouse without a backwards glance. In her mind, Harry was still the hero.

In a move that surprised nobody, Pansy and Crabbe chose to remain together despite the announcement that all forced marriages that had happened under Voldemort's reign were allowed to be null and voided.

"It's not so bad being Mrs Crabbe," Pansy had shrugged noncommittally, "and besides, we rather enjoyed being a little family with Rose, so we've decided to make one of our own. Vincent is taking his role in trying for a baby very seriously, he's made charts and everything."

Draco and I continued to walk slowly across the graveyard towards the chapel, his arm tightening around my waist as we neared the mourners.

"Are you okay?" I asked, frowning up at him. He looked so sad and so tired.

He shrugged. "You know how I felt about my father. Although, I'm glad I made peace with him before he died. But I'm worried about Mother, she's so broken... and I know how that feels."

It seemed that Lucius had been waiting to be back in his own bed in the Manor, because on that very first night after Voldemort's demise, he went to sleep and never woke up again. Narcissa had become a shell of her former self. Abandoning the treehouse, Draco, the boys and I moved back into the Manor to look after her.

It was a sparse service. Despite all his riches, Lucius had not been a popular man. The mourners that had attended were here for the remaining Malfoy's - a name that was now considerably more favourable since Draco help save the world.

Narcissa wept in her son's arms the entire time. It was heart wrenching to witness a person so distraught knowing that nothing you could do would help them.

I was glad the boys weren't here to witness this. Both Draco and I were in agreement that they had been through far too much trauma to attend their grandfather's funeral. Especially Jack.

Our brave little fox, who had witnessed his mother blow a man's brains out. Thanks to Draco throwing his body over him, however, he'd not seen much. But the trauma of knowing he'd unintentionally led us all down there was not lost on his six year old self.

"I'm sorry, Mummy," he had wept uncontrollably in my arms as we carried him out of the dungeons, leaving behind the bodies of Cedric, Voldemort and Astoria. "I just wanted to get Mr Dog back."

"Shhh, son," Draco had reassured him, "it's all over now. We're all safe and we can be free at last."

As we took turns to throw dirt on Lucius's coffin, I had no idea that we were about to discover that people had different ideas of what freedom actual meant.

*****

"Won't you eat, Mother, please?"

Draco felt his heart constrict as his mother lowered her fork, placing it against her uneaten salad.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice timid and small, "I just can't face it."

His patience wearing thin, he tried not to lose his temper. Blaire's cool hand touched the back of his and he glanced gratefully up at her.

It had been a long, emotional day. Burying his father had been a more taxing experience than he'd expected. He thought he'd feel nothing, but in fact the gravity of his sense of loss shocked him.

He tried to swallow it down. This should be a happy time, after all. He and Blaire were now free to live the life with their sons that they had been dreaming of. They could go anywhere, do anything and just be together.

But, as he looked at his broken mother, he realised that he could never leave her when she was like this. He of all people knew what it was like to lose the love of your life. His heart twisted violently knowing the pain she was feeling.

"Take your time, Cissy," Blaire said gently, getting up to plant a kiss down upon his mother's head. "There's no rush. We're here to help you through it - as long as you need."

His mother smiled gratefully back up at her, clasping Blaire's hand tight in hers, but Draco couldn't help but notice the complete and utter desolation swimming in her eyes.

*****

I stirred, twisting myself out of Draco's embrace.

Blearily, I opened my eyes. A figure was standing over the bed. I sat up, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Shhh," Narcissa said, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow down upon her. "I just wanted to say goodnight."

She leant down, pressing her lips against my brow. They felt cool and light, like being kissed by an angel.

"Go back to sleep my darling," she cooed softly, stroking my hair.

My eyelids were already fluttering shut by the time she straightened up. I was too far gone back into the land of slumber to notice her leaving a crisp cream envelope on my bedside table.

*****

Cool lips pressed against my forehead.

My eyes shot open, a memory tugging at the corners of my sleepy mind.

"I'm just going to check on Mother," Draco murmured sleepily as tired grey eyes looked down at me. "I'll be back in a bit."

I felt another stirring in my mind. Shaking my head, I turned over to look at the time. The clock on my bedside table read nine am. I was surprised. We never slept in this long. I guessed it had a lot to do with the boys sleeping over at Pansy and Crabbe's.

I was about to wriggle my body back around to fall back asleep when something caught my eye, waking me up properly.

A crisp cream envelope.

Narcissa.

Sitting bolt upright, I snatched it up in my hands, shakily ripping it open. My heart stilled as I read the words written in a shaky, unrecognisable scrawl.

Throwing the letter aside, I jumped out of bed, desperate to get to Draco before he-

"MOTHER! NO! MOTHER! PLEASE, GOD NO!"

I was, of course, too late.

*****