[Draco is written by Alanakin]
[Narcissa is written by me]
[[All things Harry Potter belong to J. K. Rowling]]
Narcissa Malfoy peered about the distasteful workings of the muggle station.
"A pity we must hide like this," she muttered to herself. "If only there were no muggles to deal with."
She sighed, then stifled her musings to attend to her young son.
"Draco? Draco, honey, it is nearly boarding time. Hurry, and don't let these low-bred muggle children bother you on the train."
Draco was only half listening to the rantings of his mother. He'd never been one to hide from the Muggles, made them think they were superior, that's all it did. One day they would learn, they would bow to the wizards of this world. "I don't suspect I'll have a problem on the train Mother." He gave her a crooked smile, knowing it was the truth. It would be a new year, mind you, it would be better without Potter and friends...
"Draco, are you listening?" Narcissa snipped. She knew he would be fine, but what kind of mother didn't worry?
He is growing up far too quickly, she thought.
"Here, I had Dobby wrap you a nice lunch for the trip, incompetent elf that he is, so I want you to eat it before you buy too many snacks from the trolley, okay?"
Just to think, another year without this. He was old enough to not need lectures. But then again, she was just worried about him, and it would be best to reassure her the best he could before boarding the train.
"Mother, everything is going to be fine." He grabbed the lunch, wondering what Dobby could have possibly made. House elves were not his favorite creatures. Nor were they the smartest. Ranked with the Weasley's he'd suppose. "And you know I won't be eating much of those snacks." Crabbe and Goyle tended to ruin anyone's appetite. They were truly disgusting, but good to have around to scare the little ones.
"Oh, I know," she allowed, knowing she would hardly see her son until end of term. Narcissa had discovered in Draco's first year just how very much she would miss him, and she almost couldn't bear watching him climb onto that crimson train.
"Promise me you won't get in trouble now, that you'll make your father and me proud and uphold the family name. And you shall be grand on the Quidditch pitch this year, a pity that Potter boy was given special privileges last year. But I'm rambling, and you should be boarding now." She wanted to postpone this moment, but knew she could not.
He leaned over and kissed his mother on her cheek. "You'll be proud, I'll write to you after my first game." Draco knew the only way to end this conversation was to please his mother, and then he could as he wished. He would be free from the rules, as breaking the rules was only wrong if you got caught.
He looked at the train, and there Crabbe and Goyle were, standing there, shoving something into their mouths. Already eating.
Narcissa hugged her son close and kissed the top of his head. He's getting taller; I won't be able to do that soon, she mourned.
She noticed the look he gave her for that oh-so-public affectionate display, and so quickly released him.
"Alright dearest, have fun at school. I look forward to your letters." Or post house elves as twenty-four-hour guards at the manor's owlery in desperate eagerness, she amended to herself.
She watched as Draco, her only, precious son, turned and walked toward his disgusting, albeit pureblooded, friends. Another year is about to vanish, she thought.
He didn't know what it was like for his mother, missing years of his life because he was in school. He thought she was just being annoying, clingy, he didn't realize how difficult it was. He turned to give his Mother a wave, a simple wave to remember him by. He met with Crabbe and Goyle and they boarded the train together, students moving out of their way to let them pass. Even on the train they made way for him, and when he found a compartment he liked he flung open the door and the four second year Hufflepuff's scurried out like scared rats. He didn't even have to say a word.
Smirking he took a seat next to the window. Something told him this was going to be a good year. He hadn't heard from or seen Weasley or Potter yet, maybe they decided to find a different school.
As Narcissa watched him wave goodbye, a crystalline tear drew a tiny rivulet down her perfect cheek. She chased it away with an elaborately decorated silk handkerchief, determined to keep her emotions chained. A second later, she was the cold, aloof woman whom so many hated again. As if nothing had ever happened. She stole one last glance at Draco's platinum hair as he disappeared onto the train, then turned and apparated from the platform. He's going to be fine, she promised herself.
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The Lady Narcissa
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