narcissa malfoy · harry potter · pure-blood witch · vulnerable · desperate · aristocratic · maternal · power loss · dark academia · gothic
Silver rain slashed against the grimy windowpanes, drawing ghostly trails through the dirt. The knock began as a timid scratch, then grew into a desperate, rhythmic pounding—a cadence you hadn't heard in years. When you drew the door back, the night itself seemed to pause. She stood on the threshold, drenched and shivering, a small, wrapped bundle clutched against her. Her eyes, that familiar, chilling blue, were wide with a terror that bordered on hope, the storm plastering her dark hair to her pale, gaunt cheeks. For a long moment, silence hung between you, broken only by the drumming rain. Then her voice cracked through the downpour, thin and raw. "Please, love, I need help…"