The McKinney household has sustained themselves throughout the reign of Voldemort's horrendous war. Refusing to get themselves involved, remaining neutral during the numerous battles and shielding their location from discovery...the McKinney clan has survived perhaps the most devastating event in Magical History. Self preservation is a natural instinct. Especially when a young child is concerned. The McKinney family's actions may be distasteful, cowardly or even selfish....but, everything they did was to protect their beloved heir and her son. 

Speaking of which, the aforementioned heir originally had desperately wanted to participate in the war. However, once she began a mother, her mindset changed and her baby became her sole concern. The McKinney clan has always valued family above everything else. Not to diminish the innocent lives tragically lost during the war, though. It's just that this clan is so invested in protecting the members of its family, everyone else tends to be set aside from their thoughts. 

Even with the war concluded and normalcy slowly beginning to take its place once again, the McKinney elders were hesitant to allow their heir permission to leave the private estate. Before the war, this request would have been granted without a second thought. [i]"We hae (have) tae (to) see whit's (what's) best fur(for) yer(your) son."[/i] That was her mother's response. Every single time the mentioning of relocating came into conversation. Of course, she understands her mother's concerns. It's natural and good intended. 

"Maw?" 

Another attempt, perhaps this time it would be successful. 

The elder woman cast a glance over her left shoulder, unwilling to face her daughter directly. "Aye, darlin'?"

When nothing came in reply, it immediately worried her. "Nathaira?" A loud clunk was heard as the mother dropped her cutting knife down to the counter top. "Nathaira? Whit's(what's) wrong?" 

Unable to deny her mother's inquiry, Nathaira confessed the concerns hidden within her mind. "Maw, Ah(I) loue(love) living 'ere(here) at th'(the) estate, bit(but) a'm(I'm) waantin'(wanting) Olyson tae(to) graw(grow) up in th' countryside. Tae(To) be among Muggles 'n' learn thair(their) culchur(culture)." 

"Muggles? How come?" 

Nathaira sighed, eyes falling downcast to the floor. "He's safer in th' company o'(of) Muggles."

Troubled by her daughter's distraught expression, the compassionate elder came forward while drying her hands off with her apron. Nathaira immediately relaxed at her mother's touch, losing herself in the affectionate strokes that her mother weaved through her hair. "Darlin'?" Her mother questioned, hands stilling midway through her daughter's crimson-colored locks. "Is this truly whit(what) ye(you) want?" 

Nathaira mutely nodded, afraid to speak a word. 

"Well then, ah(I) wun't(won't) deny yer(your) request."

Such lovely words, a sentence that Nathaira had never expected to hear. "Ye...ye will?" She confirmed, fearful to believe her mother's words. 

 The elder chuckled, pressing a kiss to her daughter's furrowed brow. "Aye." She wouldn't restrict her daughter, no longer. If this was Nathaira's desire, then so be it. 

Nathaira's eyes welled with tears, blurring the emerald orbs. "Thank you!" Happiness overwhelmed her entirely. Nathaira hurried off to pack her belongings, not forgetting to bring along Olyson's necessities. 

* * * 

"Draco? It's time to go, son." 

He followed loyally at his mother's side, not questioning her. As he walked alongside her, his father's absence began to trouble him. The man he'd grown to despise, his tormentor, his own flesh and blood. Lucius would no longer sit beside him at the table. The Ministry has taken Lucius into custody. If it wasn't for Narcissia and her sincere pleadings to the Ministry of Magic, Draco would be joining his estranged father in Azkaban. Draco owes his mother so greatly, but she wants nothing in return.

"Draco?" He hates her voice now. It's so broken. She's never been weak, even during the war. Narcissia remained strong for her son, but now without her husband, the emotional strain finally caught hold. Try as she might to endure the suffering in silence, Draco knew her. He saw the vulnerable side of her personality, the hidden aches and pains that she'd shield from everyone else. "Perhaps you should venture on without me," she suggested suddenly, halting her heels on the pavement. 

Grey eyes widened, focusing on the fragile woman before him. "Why?" It didn't make any sense. Narcissia could not support herself in such a state. Draco knew this to be a fact and wouldn't abandon her. Never, especially not now. "Mother?"

Narcissia gave her boy a false smile, tenderly stroking his cheek with a slender finger. Draco felt it shaking. "You have so much potential in this world, my boy. I don't want you confined to worrying about me and let your life be discarded in my misery." Always acting selflessly when it concerns her son, Narcissia was willing to put herself out of the picture, in efforts to aid her son's future. 

"I have no future ahead of me," Draco scoffed, turning his head away curtly. 

Narcissia's frown was unmistakable. "Don't you dare speak of yourself in such a way, Draco." She wouldn't hear it. "You may have been forced into a terrible past at your father's hand," and her own, "but you have time to correct your errors and make something of yourself in this unknown future." 

With those final words, Narcissia appriated herself away. Leaving Draco, wide-eyed and quite frankly, lost in what remained of the streets in Diagon Ally.