“Stupefy!”

“Protego!”

“Impedimenta!”

“Crucio!”

Jets of light exploded from wands and into the air like fireworks, colliding in midair and into the surrounding trees; the two men were dueling to kill. The taller man was thin, with long, white blonde hair that rippled like water in the wind. His face, so often slack with indifference, was now taut with determination and rage. The other man’s appearance was hidden behind a long, billowing black cloak and a mask.

The taller man brandished his wand in a sword-like manner, and bright blue flames shot out of it. The Death Eater dodged the flames behind a wide oak tree, which shriveled sickeningly, and aimed his wand at the other man.

“Avada Kedavra!”

There was a blinding flash of green light, and the taller man fell to the ground, unmarked, but unmistakably dead. The Death Eater approached the body cautiously, as though he expected it to jump up and attack him. He stared for a moment at the man’s face, taking in the slightly surprised expression that lingered there. Then, as if coming out of a trance, he straightened up still looking at the man, murmured, “Blood-traitor,” and Disapparated.




Sunlight poured through the windows of Malfoy Manor. Narcissa Malfoy busied herself in the kitchen with breakfast, if not rather awkwardly, for she still had not gotten used to doing the cooking since Harry Potter �“ she cursed him maliciously under her breath �“ had set Dobby free. As she placed a stack of slightly burnt toast onto a plate and carried it through the door to the dining room, she continued to remember those events that had taken place nineteen years ago. Lucius was a Death Eater then, as was her son, Draco. Even now, she could remember clearly how Lucius would speak to the Dark Lord: with forced admiration and slightly stifled fear. She could also recall the way Draco had been terrified of the Dark Lord, so reluctant to be his personal servant. He had been so proud to be included in such a group…but that had soon vanished.

Sitting down at the dining room table, Narcissa stared thoughtfully out the open window and into the courtyard, thinking of that painful year when Draco had been given the task to kill Albus Dumbledore; she had been so terrified of losing her son that year and again in the year after that. Though Narcissa had been intent on receiving the Dark Lord’s forgiveness, her first priority had always been keeping Draco safe. Even at the climax of the war, she had lied to the Dark Lord about Harry Potter’s death in order to find her son: her love for Draco could not be pushed aside by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. But even after her efforts, Narcissa remembered fearing that she and her family had not escaped danger, for Harry Potter had killed the Dark Lord soon afterward. She feared that her family would be thrown into Azkaban for their actions against the Order of the Phoenix. But miraculously, wonderfully, they had escaped that fate.

Then, they were free. Free from the binding service of the Dark Lord, free from the eyes of the Wizengamot, free to do whatever they wished. Or at least that was what they hoped. Though Narcissa and her family might have been free from the darkness that had come with being Death Eaters, they could not escape the prejudice that others had against them, the Malfoy family. The Wizarding community could not see beyond, they could not forget the past. Not that Narcissa particularly cared. She had lived this way for more than twenty years when the Dark Lord was still in power. People had always known that the Malfoys had never renounced the Dark Arts, known their views on blood status, known that they would join the Dark Lord again. No…the only reason that Narcissa bothered to think about the community’s scorn was how it connected with Harry Potter.

Narcissa had never known exactly what had occurred between Draco and the Potter boy during the final battle at Hogwarts; he had never fully explained it. But she knew that something indeed had happened because Draco no longer spoke of Harry Potter. Before Draco had fled with Severus in his sixth year, he would never miss an opportunity to complain about the boy. Narcissa had sympathized at first but soon became tired of the constant talk of Harry Potter and his blood traitor and Mudblood friends, as did Lucius. But after the final battle and things had calmed down, Draco didn’t even speak the name of Harry Potter. Narcissa had, of course, known that he would be a delicate subject right after the Dark Lord’s fall. Narcissa and Lucius hardly spoke of the Dark Lord after the war was over, and least of all Harry Potter. But years later, when the subject of the man Harry Potter would come up, or when Narcissa and Draco would pass him on the streets of Diagon Alley, not a hint of disdain wove through Draco’s words, nor did a trace of that hateful look pass across his face. And even more amazingly, Potter seemed to follow in suit, as far as Narcissa could tell. There was less hatred between them; now, it was more an indifference to each other…She wondered why this was so, for it had seemed to change her son in a way she could not satisfactorily describe to herself.

Narcissa got up from the table and left the room, meaning to wake Lucius, who had arrived at Malfoy Manor late the previous night. All of these thoughts about Draco brought back the worry that Narcissa had had in her mind for a fortnight.

Draco was missing. His wife was dead. His son, Scorpius, was also dead.

Perhaps Lucius had received news last night. Perhaps they had found Draco! Narcissa’s heart beat fast across her chest as her worries mounted to their fullest extent. She walked quickly across the hall, past the drawing room, and up the stairs �“

But her journey was interrupted. As she placed her foot on the first stair, a tawny owl came swooping through a nearby window, a letter clutched in its talons. It landed softly on the banister next to Narcissa, and she took the letter from it. The owl flew back out the window as Narcissa opened the letter and read:

Dear Mr and Mrs Malfoy,
We are very sorry to inform you that your son, Draco Malfoy, was
found dead last night at 11:48 in the Forest of Dean. Few details of
the murder are currently known, but we request that you report to
the Department of Magical Law Magical Law Enforcement (Level
two at the Ministry of Magic) as soon as possible for further details.

We are very sorry for your loss.

Sincerely,

Constance Burgman
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Ministry of Magic