Betrayal of the Black

sixty-eight

Through the crowd, she saw the flash of Draco's white-blond hair. She killed another Death Eater as her eyes searched for what he was heading towards. Narcissa was pushing forward towards him, too, she realised.

Celestia moved forward towards the Great Hall. She used her sword to ensure the destruction of the Horcrux within Nagini as she passed. The loss of the invisibility cloak had put a stop to her plan, but she could do nothing but move forward and formulate a new plan on the spot. It was different this time, though. Because while she may be alone, she wasn't fighting alone.

Harry were somewhere nearby, with the same intention to kill Voldemort. Regulus and Theo were facing the man himself head-on. She'd known they'd be able too. There was still a distinctive power imbalance between them and the Dark Lord, but banded together it were small; even more so with the shared motivation she had given

"Draco," Narcissa called as soon as she was within hearing distance.

Somewhere, a spell went haywire, and the building shook. A chunk of the roof broke off, smashing against the floor with a thunderous clap. It caused multiple people to stumble, and Draco rushed forward to try and steady his mother.

His hand curled around Narcissa's forearm. Relief flooded his face, and he softened immediately. The sight of it is enough to stop Celestia short. They had been on the road so long that she forgot what it looked like when Draco was fully relaxed, fully at home.

Draco's mouth opened around the word mum. Before the word can escape past his lips, there's a flash of green light behind Narcissa. Her body slumped forward, limp against her son. On instinct, Draco's arms had moved to catch her body before it could hit the ground, but his gaze was still looking forward—rooted on the empty space where his mother had been just moments before, alive.

She knew she ought to go to Draco, but her eyes were already searching the crowd for the source of the green light. There's a scream trapped in her throat, a pressure against the back of her eyes. It's all lost beneath the drum of her blood flushing in her ears.

Wrath clouded her thoughts, and it soon plagued the rest of her body. Jaw clenched, shoulders drawn tight, hands shaking with the need for a weapon, legs moving before a plan can be formulated; she had never been so unrestrained.

Narcissa was not only dead, but she had been killed. So quickly not a drop of blood had even been spilt. So quickly that Draco was only just returning to his senses, cradling his mother's body as he collapsed to his knees.

"No, no, no, no—!" His pleas were lost beneath the rumble of battle. "No! Not you. Not you, too. Mum? Mum?" Somebody screamed. Draco did not hear it. "Please. I'm sorry. I—I—" He began to sob, head nestled in Narcissa's hair. "Wake up. Wake up, mum."

There is no one but his mother's corpse to hear his pleading.

It all went in one ear and out the other. Her mind was whirling, trying to understand. Why Narcissa? It wouldn't have been a Hogwarts student, so it had to have been another Death Eater. But still, why?

The answer became startlingly clear. Harry had said something earlier. Something about how he had survived, how Narcissa had lied for him. It all fell into place. Narcissa had aided Harry in faking his death. She, too, had betrayed Voldemort; her sentence being death.

Only one person was so loyal to Voldemort that they'd act against a fellow subordinate in such a way. Only one person had a history of killing blood relatives at the sight of betrayal. Only one person is spinning away from the scene of the crime, mirth still crinkling along the edges of her face, however subdued.

Her legs carried her forward without further thought. Someone in the crowd recognised her as she shoved past. It didn't matter; she wasn't trying to be inconspicuous anymore.