Children.
A short excerpt that I have yet to finish, but I hope you like it!
Harry Potter | About 600 words | No pairing (yet) | Canon-divergence
WARNING: Implied Death, Talks of Death
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Set in the summer after 6th year, the temporary residents of Number 12 Grimmauld Place were disturbed by unexpected guesses. Albus Dumbledore, and a shell of the mother of the boy who let terror into Hogwarts, Narcissa Malfoy.
“Sir?”
“I’m sorry for intruding…” Dumbledore is talking, Harry knows he should listen to understand the purpose of their arrival but his eyes stay on Narcissa Malfoy’s frail form, which is getting more rigid by the second.
“...I believe it’s suffice to say that—”
“Excuse me.”
Everyone pauses, all attention on Narcissa Malfoy as she walks over to stand before Ron. Harry jumps from his seat, his wand ready and prepared to attack. In his peripheral vision, he sees the Order doing the same with wary looks. More so on the Weasley clan. Ron stays frozen and waits for the predator to bite.
But she doesn’t. Instead, she says in a low tone, “Is it alright if I ask you to move seats? I…I need to check something behind you.”
A beat and another, before Ron nods and obliges in his shock, taking a seat far away from the mother of the bully of their childhoods.
It’s only then that Harry remembers Mrs. Malfoy’s lack of a wand and begrudgingly lowers his. The rest in the room follow. They all watch in silence as she relocates the chair Ron used to occupy, turning it sideways by hand to reveal what it has hidden since their occupation of his godfather’s childhood home.
The Black Family tapestry in all its glory.
There is a pause until the Malfoy lady suddenly gasps. A low whine comes out of her and her shoulders start to shake. In the blink of an eye, she falls like a house of cards. Harry, who is closest to her, reaches out to catch her on instinct and holds her to stay upright, “Mrs. Malfoy?”
She doesn’t answer, her eyes glued on the tapestry. Harry realizes with a start that her grey eyes, not so much unlike her son's, bear tears. Curiosity consumes him, and he follows her gaze.
He finds his godfather, Sirius, first, interwoven between the branches and scorched beyond repair without magic. Yet, there is no denying the disinherited son and the skull of death covering his face behind the sear, just like the one plastered on his brother, Regulus, connected as brothers by blood right next to him. Harry looks away, not daring to think about it as he searches the tapestry.
Ironically, he sees Bellatrix Lestrange next, her husband’s name below hers. Harry feels instant rage at the sight of his godfather’s murderer, Sirius’ own cousin, of all people. But then he spots the branches connected to the maniac’s name and follows them to find the cause of Mrs. Malfoy’s collapse. The next person after Bellatrix goes by the name of Andromeda who interestingly, like Sirius, had had her face burnt off the tree. Harry wonders if it had something to do with the name below Andromeda; Tonks doesn’t sound like a pureblood name when he thinks about it. Related to Auror Tonks, maybe? Finally, Harry sees Mrs. Malfoy’s name. And as expected her name is interwoven with Lucius’. Both of their faces are clear of grime and singe. Their blonde hair is a stark contrast to the emerald green of the tapestry.
Somewhere in his mind, a bell rings.
Harry looks down by pure chance and blinks.
He stares for a long time.
Distantly, he can feel the Weasley matriarch taking the crying Mrs. Malfoy away from his arms, murmuring soothing words to calm her down. He can hear Ron and Hermione stepping up beside him and his name coming out of their mouths, worried. He can taste metal in his mouth—blood, his brain supplies, he had bit his tongue—and wishes he didn’t.
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That's it. Can you see where I'm going with this? I'm not, I was running into this blind. ^^ Thank you for reading, see you next time! 💌