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Home. That was a word that meant so many different things. It could be a place, smell, taste, feeling or person. Narcissa had never had that feeling of home. She had always felt as if she was drifting.
Everyone around her said she’d find it eventually, but as the war got closer to her and more and more people were dying, she didn’t have hope.
It happened one day when she was in Diagon Alley shopping with her mother for her wedding dress. She would be marrying Lucius Malfoy in only a week and had put off getting the dress hoping her father would see sense and not make her marry someone she didn’t love.
That’s when she met him . With his messy, jet black hair and cocky attitude. James Potter . He was like no other. As soon as she bumped into him she knew something was different about him.
He must have noticed it too because he just stood there staring down at her. Hazel met Blue and that was it. Narcissa felt something fall into place.
Everything felt right. Her mother dragged her away, spitting that she shouldn’t lower herself to his level and give him the time of the day.
Narcissa wrote to him for the first time that night after all of her family had gone to bed and they would write daily.
A year into their secret relationship Narcissa fell pregnant and worried what would happen. She knew it wasn’t Lucius’ child. But she needed to find a way to hide that.
She had to protect herself, James and their child. James was married as well so really couldn’t be found to have cheated.
As soon as Draco was born she cast a charm on his eyes and hair to hide the resemblance from his true father. James knew of course and was overjoyed that there was a substantial thing that came out of their love.
He would send gifts to her and Draco and meet them once a week— even when he had a child with Lily.
Something broke in Narcissa the night that Lucius came home bragging that the Potters were dead. He told her then that he knew what she had done. But he would keep her dirty little secret, if she continued to act the dutiful Pureblood wife.
Over the years she did just that. Making her way through life acting as if nothing was wrong.
When she passed away years after the Second War had been fought, the first thing she saw as she awoke on the other side of the veil was James standing there waiting with arms wide.
“Welcome home, love.”
“I have missed you dearly, James.” Narcissa cried.
“As have I, my love, as have I.”
Narcissa felt the sensation of being home wash over her once more and could finally rest easy.