nothing i wont do anymore

we argue, we don't fight.

TW: Blood, thoughts of self harm and suicide. Read at your own risk.

Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, May 2 1998. 8pm.

The darkness had settled firmly over the English countryside, and Malfoy Manor was not exempt from this darkness. The blonde trio had somehow managed to find themselves back here after the chaos of the Battle of Hogwarts earlier in the day. As easily as they had slunk into the Great Hall for a moment of refuge they had left, the crowd of victors seemed not to care, weighed down somewhat at the cost of their victory. Moving the bodies of dead friends and loved ones off the cold stone floors to the open courtyard outside.

Narcissa still held onto Draco's hand firmly as they walked towards the looming double doors of their home. She could feel him tense slightly at the thought that behind these doors there could still be some other Death Eaters looming, ready to pounce on the wandless family at the first opportunity. The Malfoy's- The Traitors to the Dark Lord. The reason he was vanquished by Harry Potter- The Boy Who Lived.

Narcissa couldn't help but wonder if she had thrown her own family to the wolves. Perhaps being thrown to the wolves would be better for them than to be affiliated with Voldemort. She gently pushed open the door. The entry hall loomed before them. The house was silent and cold.

"Wait here Draco." Narcissa said softly. Her son could only manage a nod.

She quietly crept inside, peering around into their guest lounge. The furniture had all been pushed to the sides of the room and there were remnants of the guest who had been here until only a few hours ago. But luckily for the family, none of these guests remained. Narcissa exhaled and quickly walked to retrieve Draco, who once again grasped her hand firmly. She settled him on the sofa, kissing the top of his head.

"Sit here my darling." She said. "Let me get your father."

Draco once again nodded and gave her hand a small squeeze, his shoe tapping nervously on the rug. Narcissa tore herself away from her broken boy to get Lucius inside.

Her husband was standing on the path, facing the gate which fenced the family in. His hand was trembling, cloak muddy from the trek home. A lump formed in Narcissa's throat at the mere sight of him. He turned his head slightly at the sound of her, as if expecting an enemy and his hand twitched towards his empty wand pouch. Narcissa could see the numbers branded on his neck like this, the black in standing in stark contrast to the grey skin of his neck.

"Lucius." she breathed, as if to doubly assure him she was his ally. "Come inside love."

He flinched at her voice. They had not spoken to each other since before the boy had been struck with the killing curse. They had been too united with worry for their boy to utter any words. Now they were united in something else. Anger, fear... betrayal?

"To what?" he rasped. "Come inside to what?"

"To me. To your son." She answered steadily, walking down the steps towards him. "He needs us. So do you."

"Don't you tell me what I need!" He spat. "This is my house!"

Narcissa was not afraid of him or his words. "This is our house Lucius. And it is time for you to come inside." She said firmly

Lucius scoffed and shook his head, looking down at his feet. "We've lost everything Narcissa. Everything." he wheezed.

Narcissa frowned and stepped closer to him, holding onto his arm tightly. "We haven't Lucius." she whispered earnestly. "You have me-"