Narcissa whispers. Her heart's beating fast and hard and she's never been more terrified, never held higher stakes in her hand.
The forest is so very green.
Draco? Lucius whispers back, after a moment, his face white, confused, hopeful.
Both of them, Narcissa murmurs, and Lucius's eyes widen, gaze involuntarily shifting to Potter's limp body.
Narcissa glances to her side, once, to Harry Potter being carried, to the Dark Lord. For one horrible second, she's scared that she's done the wrong thing telling Lucius.
She hesitates before looking back at him, hesitates, because what if his loyalty lies with the Dark Lord and not me?
Lucius doesn't hesitate, though.
Then we find Draco, he whispers, lips barely moving, eyes ahead at the castle. And we run.
Narcissa's smile is shaky and surprised, but genuine.