𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟷 - 𝙱𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝

Narcissa Malfoy

"Narcissa, for Merlin's sake, stop moving," said Lucius.

The Spring of 1980 was coming to an end, so was my pregnancy.

My first children, my blood, my little ones.

Oddly, it took me years to feel at home in the Malfoy Manor. I couldn't say that I wasn't impressed by such luxury, I was, but I was missing the familiarity of my old childhood house. The impersonality of the Manor was hitting me the most. Hallways, full of elegant and sophisticated paintings of wizards and witches I never met and never will, people I didn't share my blood with. My own bedroom was a fancy hotel room. Not that the Black Manor wasn't about luxury. It was different. I was born and grew between those walls filled with the smell of ancient candles and old blackwood. I knew every inch of the estate. When the Malfoy Manor had a renaissance architecture, the Black's had a 13th century gothic one. When the walls of the Malfoy's were bright, the Black's were dark and full of wisteria. My family was prestigious, powerful, Noble and rich but we weren't as boastful as the Malfoys were, our estate was the proof.

"Cissy, stop moving, you are losing so much blood, I beg you to stop," said Bellatrix. 

"I- I- can't feel them."

No I couldn't. But I couldn't feel myself neither. Or to feel it too much that everything becomes numb.

I had this odd impression to live this moment outside of my body, as a ghost but at the same time, I lived the pain, I lived every painful second as a step closer to death. It was hard to stay aware between the blackouts and the yells. I knew they were living, I felt their heartbeats, their movements. The contractions became harder to handle, I tried as hard as I could to stay aware and conscious, but after this, what happened is still blurred in my mind. I can't manage to remember a thing, until shrieking, piercing cries and relief.

Fuck. I'll live through it, if not me, then for them.

Them, them, them. I hadn't met them yet. But I'd already do anything for them. Die included. For them.

The world stopped the minute I heard a cry.

"It's a girl," the doctor said.

A girl, a girl, a girl. A beautiful little girl.

"Keep pushing, keep breathing, Cissy. It'll be over soon," Bella whispered.

And so I did. With every strenght I had left, even the one I had not.

No cries. I could see my baby but I couldn't hear the cries. "What- what is wrong? Bella- Bel- Bella? What is wrong?"

Bella immediately went to the doctor and all I can remember was my sister threatening him to do something. And so he did, and I finally heard cries.

"It's a boy, Cissy," said Bella, rushing to me. "He's okay. They both are. He just wants to check on them, it's not going to take long. You did it. You did it. Now rest."

I allowed myself a long piercing cry of relief. Their birth was the worst pain I've ever went through, physically. But the love I had for them and the sight of those tiny creatures were worth it. The bittersweetness of being a mother like I always wanted to be.

I didn't want to raise them like I was raised. I loved my parents dearly, just as much as I hated them. An abusive household, I didn't want my kids to grow up in constant terror. I remembered the moment I told herself what kind of mother I'll be, when I was seven, hiding under my blanket, hearing my oldest sister screaming to death for something, I couldn't even remember what because it wasn't important. Something violence should never be the solution for. I promised herself that night that I would care, and I would try to listen, I would try everything to make people I loved happy, out of violence, out of torture, out of terror. And so, I promised herself this when I was only 7, then 8, then 9, then 10, until I was old enough to live the house and move in with Lucius. I never truly stopped to promise. It still happened. It happened even more the night before the birth of the twins and during their childhood. A few years later from that, when violence managed to intrude into the Manor, I promise myself to make it seem less vicious for them. But where I went, violence was by my side. Something prayers and promises could never do something about.