𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒽 | 𝒟.𝑀.

2 | ﴾ You. Wouldn't. Dare. ﴿

The unsettling lunch concluded, mainly due to Draco sobbing and begging to be brought back to his room.

I had watched in incredulity as Narcissa brought out a white wheelchair for him. It was completely stunning to see him too weak to walk. He'd wept through the painful process of being pulled carefully to a stand and having to take three simple steps to the chair.

"I can't do it, I can't," he'd whispered, shaking in her firm grip. I reached out my hand to take his other arm with a dead pan expression, following my sense of propriety. Through teary eyes he'd finally agreed to let me help him and we both guided him to the seat. He let his head hit the back of the chair, staring at the bright sky like a broken doll. His eyes shone nearly aquamarine in the sunlight, "Why didn't Potter have to deal with this much pain?" he complained avidly.

"Harry Potter survived for very different reasons than you did," Narcissa stated factually. "You took a lot of the degenerative magic after the initial absorption from the stone."

"'ow did Draco survive? What stone?" I urged already guessing with dread what it was. He pawed away the tears from his eyes with his palms, his fingers bent at ghastly angles.

Narcissa smiled gently. Her hand disappeared into her dress and pulled out fragments of rocks and a burnt chain. She placed them in my palm and I immediately recognized the charred remains of a very valuable family heirloom; my moonstone.

In it's original state it had been a large, glowing blue stone on a golden chain, clutched in talons. Now it was cracked into at least four pieces, the remaining stone ruins were glowing green with the killing curse magic, and the golden chain had scorched far up the length providing it with a rusty amber appearance. I had given it to him years ago at Hogwarts as a token of my love for him.

"I am grateful every single day that you gave him that stone. Had you not, and had he not been wearing it in the exact place where the dark lord shot the curse at his chest, he would not have survived," Narcissa said, petting his hood protectively as he peered with burning curiosity at the destroyed remnants in my hand.

"You call this surviving? Just take me out back and shoot me," he huffed, his eyes puffy from crying.

Narcissa gave me an exhausted look, "We shall be taking you back to bed, that much is certain."

Draco scowled across the property, taking in the gorgeous summer day, "At this hour? Am I eighty years old?"

Narcissa closed her eyes again. It was a move they both apparently made when annoyed and I stifled a giggle at the similarity I had never noticed before, "What would you rather be doing? You cannot walk, you cannot push the chair yourself, and you need rest. Perhaps Madeleine would be up for entertaining you, but you must be in bed regardless."

Draco and both shook our heads to dismiss the concept with passion. He'd just been unbelievably rude to me all of lunch, and I had other matters to attend to. I wanted to send owl's to several people including my family and members of The Order. I also needed to go into London and check on the status of my financial affairs and run errands.

I ignored his gaze, turning to Narcissa who had her head hung down impatiently, "Where is my wand, Narcissa?"

Her voice was stiff and regretful, "It was destroyed in the battle. Apparently the core was not prepared for the degree of dark magic you suddenly inflicted upon it. The wood was burnt completely I'm afraid. Your hand should tell you as much." She gestured to the white glove on my right hand.

I looked back down at Draco who's eyes had shot to the glove with interest, "I need to go to London to replace my wand. Can I borrow yours to get dere since you do not need et today?" His mouth fell open in outrage at the perfectly reasonable request.