“Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?” The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from his ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded his face from the onlookers. “Yes,” he breathed back. He felt the hand on his chest contract; her nails pierced him. Then it was withdrawn. She had sat up. “He is dead!” Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers.
In the end, Voldemort’s fate twice came down to the choice of a woman, a mother.
Rock ‘n roll.
Harry Potter as a series repeatedly tells us never to underestimate a mother’s love. Lilly’s love for Harry nearly killed Voldemort the first time, Narcissa’s love for Draco set him up for his real death, and Voldemort’s greatest general was killed by Molly, a mother who loved all of her children and feared losing any more to the magical war.
Bitches. Get. Stuff. Done.
#but i would SO DEEPLY LOVE for this moment to be the start#of a harry/narcissa friendship that everyone else thinks is REALLY WEIRD#like they send each other owls ALL THE TIME#she helps him properly cleanse and renovate 12 grimmauld place#she takes him shopping for proper wizarding clothes #he buys her dinner#they go to professional quidditch matches together#wizarding paps keep getting pictures of them going places arm-in-arm and giggling#draco gets up in the middle of the night and comes to the kitchen#to harass the house-elves for tea#and harry and narcissa are down there barefoot in their pajamas#possibly draco starts to cry #IT COULD BE SO BEAUTIFUL (via)