“ I have been bent and broken, but - I hope - into a better shape. ” For Narcissa.
Poetry or smthn rite? || @dracmal || Still Accepting
Her first instinct is to scoop him into her arms and to hold him - to protect him from harm, even now. But it is too late for that. The damage has been done… And she has failed to protect him.
Once, a long time ago she had been proud to have a husband in the service of the Dark Lord… Worried, of course, but proud. And then he had died. Dead for over a decade and he had returned. Her son, still a child (and barely a man now) had been pulled into a war - used as a pawn to punish his parents by someone… Something. That should have stayed dead.
She does not fight the urge any longer and though he is taller now than she is, she envelops him and holds him close.
“I would give anything to undo what has been done to you… To us, Draco.” She tells him sincerely, rest her head against his. “Your hope is admirable, but I’d have you as you were if it could save you everything you’ve been through.”
