Potter

Epilogue : Part 6/7

July 2011

"I'll send an owl when I can. Thank you, really. I understand this was last minute."

"Nonsense. My grandson is always welcome in my home– I do hope you two will consider some time away in Paris, once the worst has passed? I know you send the house elves once a month but any place needs proper living in to remain well-kept. Your Paris home is too lovely to be wasted on cobwebs."

"We'll keep that in mind– you should head out. No offense, mother, but french house elves don't always make the best company for a six year old."

"They handled you well enough."

"I flew circles around them in the living room when I was five. Literally."

A pause. Then softer, fonder– "I suppose you're right.  I'll be on my way, then. Give my love to Lily, Draco. You're a good husband."

"I'll talk to you later, mother," Draco replied quietly, and I saw the floo light up from the kitchen as my mother-in-law returned home, where my son was undoubtedly waiting  eagerly for her arrival. I squeezed my fingers down onto the mug I held, let out a deep breath as the nausea crept through my veins, my head.

Awful things happened to wizards who meddled with time. I supposed I was getting off easy, in the long run. But the feeling of dying in one place, of a future dissipating, of living past the point of a life's end, and the knowledge that somewhere in the world my parents were taking their last breaths, living their last day...

When I'd looked at the calendar this morning, already with an unexplainable headache and an odd chill, the date struck through my chest like ice, the cold realization of something long avoided. I'd nearly fallen, tears bubbling over without cause while my brain scrambled for some semblance of rationality. There hadn't been anything to find, and I hadn't been able to stop crying, and crying, and crying, hand pressed against my mouth to keep from waking Regulus and Draco kneeling beside me, cradling my face between his hands and worriedly asking for an explanation.

That'd been some hours ago now, and while the tears had dried, they'd left a trail of heartache and chills in their wake. I'd had to clamp down on the part of me that ached to stop it, to somehow keep my path the same while sparing my parents of theirs.

Something shattered, and it was only when I felt the shards of it cut into my bare ankles did I realize I'd dropped my mug. I froze, staring at the empty space between my hands in surprise as Draco all but slid into the kitchen.

"Lily?"

"I'm fine," I rasped, flexing my fingers until he stepped up and pulled them into his own hands, soothing out the tension. When I looked up grey eyes watched me with worry. "Really. I just wasn't thinking. It slipped."

"You're bleeding," he murmured, dropping one of my hands to take his wand from his back pocket, cleaning up the mess and the small scratches at my ankles with only a few simple waves.

"Oh. Right." Everything in my brain felt fuzzy, thoughts tempered by the headache and the chill that demanded the bulk of my attention. "How was Narcissa?"

"Fine," he said, making sure there was no chance I'd slip from the stool before he stepped away to the cupboards, the glass of potion vials gleaming. "She's more than happy to take Reg for the weekend."

"I hope he's not upset," I murmured. Draco shook his head.

"He was happy to go– you know he loves Narcissa. And it'll be good for him to work on his french. He's perfectly happy."

"If you're sure," I said, resting my elbow on the marble countertop, my head on my hand as I watched him through swollen eyes. Crying never treated me well.