DISCLAIMER: I own none of the characters from Buffy the Vampire Slayer or from the Harry Potter series. I am not making any profit from this.
TIMELINE: Winter of book 6/Season 4.
The Dark Lord was insane.
That one thought ran through her mind again and again, dominating everything. Every choice, every option, every move she could make was colored by that one all important fact; the Dark Lord was raving mad.
With a trembling hand, Narcissa reached down and touched her curving belly full with child. Soon, her child would be born. It was, she knew, a son she carried.
Only, it was the son of her muggle lover…and not the pureblood son of her wealthy and powerful husband.
Carefully, quietly, she walked over to stand along the railing of the landing above the stairs and looked down upon the gathering of Death Eaters. Her husband’s failure in the Ministry last summer had seen him fall from grace in the Dark Lord’s eyes and he was doing all he could to redeem himself. And yet…
And yet it was her son, her first born son, who bore the burden of carrying the Malfoy name out of disfavor. He was given a task that was impossible to fulfill. She had tried to sway Lucius and Draco to her point of view. She had begged him not to take the Dark Mark. But in the end his arrogance and pride had insisted that he do so. Now, he too was doomed.
The Dark Lord would see her husband punished with the death of their son, for there could be no other punishment if…no, when he failed to murder Albus Dumbledore. And her deluded and power mad husband didn’t see anything wrong with this because she was pregnant and would bear him another child…another heir.
Oh, if only he knew.
Her first born was doomed. Her husband was doomed. She was doomed as well. If Lucius didn’t kill her for her unfaithfulness, then the Dark Lord would kill her himself for the crime of breeding with a muggle. As things stood, the entire Malfoy line was soon to be at an end. The insane Dark Lord they had slaved themselves to would see to it.
However, there was one person she could save. Had to save.
Her hand pressed tighter to her unborn child.
He would live. She would see to it. Not a Malfoy, but the last Scion of the House of Black. With both Sirius and Regulus dead, the House of Black would fade away into the annuals of history. Only her Lord’s enemy Harry Potter had claim to the blood through his paternal grandmother. She knew better than to rely on that urchin to preserve her family name, he would instead, see to House Potter. If he lived.
No, her unborn child would live and he would lift House Black from the ashes to rise anew like a dark phoenix.
She would have to act quickly and quietly. No word must leak back to her husband or their insane master. If she made the arrangements through Gringott’s, she could open an account for the child. Her dowry, perhaps. She could name him her heir, the heir of House Black. The nasty little goblins wouldn’t even blink at that, especially as all of the male members of the family had died without siring sons of their own. The daughters of dying Houses had in the past provided heirs for their birth families if they had their husband’s permission.
The real trick would be to spirit the child away to his muggle father on the American Hellmouth after he was born, but before Lucius could see him. She would provide him with the information he needed to know and a way to contact her. Then, she would return and…
Well, she wasn’t sure yet. She could say that the child had been born a squib and she had sent it away. Or…she could say it had died in birth. She could even claim to have been attacked and the child stolen from her arms.
The horrible truth of the matter was she wished that she could flee Wizarding Britain, the war, and the insane Dark Lord that ruled her life. She would run off to the Hellmouth and to her muggle lover. Xander would not turn her away. She knew that. His heart would not let him. He would welcome her and their child into his home and his life and he would do anything to save them…even sacrifice himself.
How could she do any less?
For in truth, she couldn’t flee. The thrice damned Dark Mark on her arm bound her to that ghoulish maniac and damned her forever from the Light. There was nowhere that she could run, nowhere that she could hide that the Dark Lord would not find her. At that point, death would be a blessing.
Harsh cackling laughter rose up from below and sent chills of horror up her spine.
Her beloved older sister had once been the most beautiful and charming witch in all of Britain. Now…now she was a cackling hag, lost in her own tortured mind. Her devotion to the Dark Lord was…fanatical and beyond all rational thought.
Her husband was not far behind and her first born son was quickly heading in that direction.
Curling her hand around her stomach, she turned from the scene below and drifted slowly into her sitting room. Yes, she would find a way to spare her halfblood child that fate. He was the only child in the Black family that had been conceived in love and joy for centuries. Perhaps…perhaps that would shield him in some way from the taint of darkness that hummed through her own blood?
She wasn’t sure.
Sitting at her small writing desk, she pulled out a piece of parchment. She needed to make an appointment at Gringotts and set her plans in motion. Everything had to be in place when the time came to send her unborn child to his muggle father.
Then, she would leave the raising of the child to him where they would both be protected by that blond warrior woman…by the Slayer. Surely she could save them from the Dark Lord?