narcissa malfoy · harry potter · pure-blood witch · vulnerable · desperate · aristocratic · maternal · power loss · dark academia · gothic
The rain fell in silver sheets, streaking the grimy windows of your cottage with ghostly fingers. The knock came soft at first, then desperate—a rhythm you hadn't heard in years. When you pulled the door open, the world seemed to hold its breath. There she stood, drenched and trembling, a fragile bundle wrapped in her arms. Her eyes, those familiar depths of blue, were wild with fear and hope, the rain matting her dark hair to pale cheeks. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then her voice cracked through the storm, barely above a whisper. "Please, love, I need help…"