August 7 1980 - November 13 1981

NARCISSA MALFOY ALWAYS WANTED A DAUGHTER. That was evident from the start, at least to herself. She grew as the youngest of three girls. Yes, the other two went on two aggressive sides of the same line, but it did not mean that Narcissa loved them less. She would raise a daughter right, kind and fair, compliant of the pure way while still maintaining her sanity.

Those hopes were swiftly crushed when the first child of her marriage was a little boy. A son, a rightful heir, a baby who is just enough to keep the lineage going. No need for a little girl with white blonde hair and her mother's eyes. This does not mean that Narcissa loves Draco any less, in fact, she had all the room in her heart for the little boy. She loved him to bits, she loved him to death.

Blythe fell into pregnancy quickly and without warning. She assured the others that she was a pureblood—though there was a flicker in her eye, one of crashing regret and rage. When a little girl was born, with soft hazel eyes and wispy dark blonde hair, the marriage was swiftly arranged.

Sabrina Fawley became the daughter Narcissa Malfoy always wanted. She spent many a day and many a night residing in Malfoy Manor, sleeping in the same crib as her betrothed, Draco. Narcissa saw the girl's first smile, heard her first giggle, and was the one that Sabrina first walked to.

Sabrina and Draco share the age of one when October 31st ticks by. Narcissa watches them sleep, steady and sure. She prepares for rest, alone, since Lucius was out doing work of some form. She does not ask for specifics—the less she knows, the better. The woman brushes her hair, the two tones clashing, her past and her present.

There is the familiar crack of Apparition. Narcissa smiles absentmindedly, until the sound continues, a crash instead of a crack. She bounds from her bedroom, only dully hearing the cries of the children.

Lucius clutches his forearm in his hand, knuckles white. It has faded into a muted black. The Dark Lord was vanquished... by a child. In the back of her mind, Narcissa wonders how long she thought it would last, this sense of superiority, this sense of accomplishment. She wonders how long the little family she cultivated has got left.

A week goes by in calamity. Lucius is taken for questioning, Blythe soon following. Narcissa raised the children alone—besides Dobby, the Malfoy's house elf, and Fibby, the Fawley's property. Death Eaters either drop like flies or hide in their basement. Narcissa reads the Daily Prophet in silence, reading off names of those she had known since childhood. Many of them were recently in the manor.

A month passes in clamor and devastation. Lucius and Blythe stay trapped by the ministry, the Death Eaters running free dwindle with every passing moment, and Sabrina will only sleep in the presence of another. Narcissa spends her nights in the nursery, arm stretched into the crib, finger clutched delicately in the stubby hands of her almost daughter.

She begins to nod off, eyelids drooping slowly and surely, then...

Crack.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

"Cissy!" Bellatrix calls from the hall, sing-song voice echoing to the woman in waves.

Suddenly awake, Narcissa makes her way out of the nursery, closing the door behind her. She stops at the balcony overlooking the scene. Her sister, her brothers in law, and the little boy Regulus held dear—clothes covered in dirt and blood. Breath comes sharp through her nose.

"What have you done?" Narcissa asks, tone calmer than what she holds inside.

Bellatrix giggles, the other three following in maniacal chorus. "We tried to find the Dark Lord, silly! The Longbottoms—filthy blood traitors—were of no use."

"Did you kill them?"

"Do you care?" Bartemius Crouch Junior snaps. She fights the urge to scoff. He is barely an adult, what gives him the right to speak of the lady of the house in such a manner.

"Only if you lead Aurors our way," Narcissa snaps. "There are babies here. One loose spell and—"

Bellatrix shushes her sister, finger pressed vertically against chapped lips. When did her sister lose her beauty? When did she exchange it for madness?

Her elder sister jolts, a grin stretching across her face. Narcissa grows colder, a chill racing down her spine. She knows that grin. She knows what might come of it.

"The babies! Yes, yes, now I remember."

"Bellatrix—"

"Cissy," her sister interrupts, head leaning back to face the younger woman's eyes as she takes a step forward. "The Dark Lord must not wait any longer."

With another crack, Bellatrix apparates. Narcissa cannot stifle a gasp, fear clutching her heart as she turns on her heel and races back to the nursery.

Merlin, no, no, no, please let it not be true.

Bellatrix holds Sabrina like she's a doll, holding her up by the armpits as the little girl's head lolls back, not able to hold it up for herself given the shock of being ripped out of sleep. The baby begins to wail, the other soon following. Dobby lays limp on the ground, blood pooling from a slash to the stomach. He must have tried to protect the children.

"Put her down, Bellatrix," Narcissa orders, voice stern and loud.

"Blythe will understand the sacrifice when she is set free. The Dark Lord shall rise again. A soul for a soul!"

"You cannot trade lives! That spell is a rumor, all you shall do is kill a child in cold blood!" Narcissa screams.

Rodolphus rolls his eyes, leaning against the crib with one bent elbow. "Well you don't have to watch."

With that, Narcissa takes off. Her hair flies out of its once perfect state as the cries of her children fade into the distance.

She is loyal to the Dark Lord, but she is also loyal to her daughter, to her son. If Voldemort has to die for Sabrina to be saved, then so be it.

"Fibby!" Narcissa calls as she runs into the kitchen. The house-elf looks up from the bread she kneads with her spindly fingers.

"Yes, miss?" Fibby asks.

"Call the Aurors. Tell them the Lestranges and Barty Crouch Junior are in the Malfoy Manor. Do it now!"

Narcissa spins around and runs back to the nursery, up the long and winding staircases and large and empty halls. She hears the echoed sounds of Apparation as she turns the corner to the nursery.

"Aurors!" Narcissa exclaims. "Quickly, leave!" She commands.

Bellatrix, whose wand pointed directly at Sabrina's little heart, looks over to her sister with crazed eyes.

"You lead them here! You must leave!"

Sabrina is tossed into the crib, forcing Narcissa to use a quick slowing spell with a quiet swish of her wand. The Death Eaters scrambled out of the nursery, too afraid of their consequences to Apparate fast enough. Narcissa pauses when she hears their exclamations of anger, the battle of spells, and the inevitable silence of the Auror's victory.

Narcissa Malfoy betrayed her sister, betrayed her blood. But as she cradles the shaken Sabrina and the still crying Draco, she is certain that she would do it twice over. Bellatrix will not hurt her daughter, the Dark Lord shall not scar their arms with a horrid snake. They will not battle for the greater good. For now, all is well.

author's note

prologue! yay! i'm really trying to do narcissa justice in this fic. she's death eater adjacent, yes, but she is first and foremost a mother. her betraying her sister and, in turn, her blood doesn't matter because her children are safe. 

also i intentionally ended it with "all is well" to parallel the ending of the hp books because narcissa really believed that voldemort's first death would be the end of it all and she could raise these kids in a world with a lot less bloodshed. 

you don't get a lot of information on sabrina herself but promise me she is a delight. the timeline of this fic isn't fully plotted out at this time, but i'm currently writing the start of first year so, uh, i guess we'll see! hope y'all enjoyed it!

vote if you think narcissa is pretty cool <3