Chapter One:
Flashbacks = italics-Whether the truth is clouded by lies, or plain for all to see, the youth still suffer-‘It cannot be true, it can’t be! You’re lying to me, you’re lying!’Dull, corpse-like grey-blue eyes stared blankly, unfocused down at the slightly worn, once blue carpet.
“Where is he? Why are you hiding him from me? ”He pleaded, searching in vain for him.Cold, pale hands rested limply in his lap.
“Tell me!” He shouted, hysterically, pure, unadulterated panic filing his voice, platinum blond locks flying wildly around him.Tangled, platinum blond locks framed his face, hanging limply around his pale, tearstained face.
The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed throughout the large, cold room. “Control yourself! Malfoy's do not show emotion! Malfoy’s do not form attachments! Malfoy's do not loose control!” The voice roared.His robes hung loosely on his slender frame, creased, messy. For once, he didn’t care; his appearance didn’t even enter his mind.
Pain filled tears of anguish trailed down his pale, porcelain skin, grey-blue eyes pleading with the tall, imposing figure towering over him.
‘Please…please…where?’ He murmured from where he lay sprawled on the floor, the stinging pain where the hit had caught him on his cheek not even registering among the desperation, the terror, the complete and utter panic and fear clouding his mind.Dark purple, mottled green, yellow, black bruises marred his previously porcelain-perfect skin. Every visible inch of flesh had a bruise, a cut, a burn, a bloody, oozing scratch or wound, or a silvery scar on it. Without the glamour, an entire lifetime of abuse came flooding out.
“Malfoy’s do not beg!” The feminine voice screeched, a slender shadow falling on him. “You are pathetic. I am ashamed to admit I gave birth to such a pathetic excuse for a wizard.” The voice of Narcissia Malfoy sneered down at her only son cruelly. “What would your father say if he could see you now? Rotting in that cell in Azkaban, all alone with only the dememtors and his worst memories for company. I wonder what those memories are?” She asked mockingly, cold, cruel black eyes focused on her only son. “Raids? No. Muggle and mudblood torture? I think not. He will be remembering what a worthless, pathetic excuse for a wizard his son is, that’s what!” she lashed out at him, her perfectly manicured nails catching him across the cheek, leaving four deep, crimson slashes behind.
Draco flinched at his mothers words, shame filling his eyes as he lowered his head to escape her condemning gaze.
“Pathetic. Go-make yourself presentable. You have three clients due tonight-I will not have you embarrassing this family in front of the inner Circle!” She smiled cruelly as her words sunk in, reviling in the pain and horror pouring off of her only son in waves, mixed with submission and acceptance, as she had so carefully taught him to obey her.
“Aww, do not look at me like that. It is for your own good. This way, when you come of age next year, you will be ready for our Lords summons and needs” She cooed cruelly, as she cupped his face in her pale, slender hands, her grip tightening painfully. “Now, what do you say, Draconis?”
“Thank you mother.”“Mr. Malfoy…”
Draco stared down at his lap, his mind, as it had been for the past few days, on a continual loop. ‘Gone… he’s gone…please… I know I deserved the pain mother gave me, the way my clients, your fellow Death Eaters, treated me, I know, mother said, it was to prepare me…But please…I need you…I always felt safer knowing you were in the Manor, that your were only a floo trip or fire call away. It always felt less real….’ He thought.
“….regarding evidence that has come to light over the past few days…”
Crash! Thump!Pale, exhausted blue-grey eyes slited open, their owner lifting their head painfully slowly. Chained to a wall, sitting in a pool of his own blood, along with other unspeakable bodily fluids, both his own and countless others, Draco Malfoy lay, half dead.“….combined with what the aurors witnessed during the raid on Malfoy Manor….”
“Have you found anything yet?”
“No-not yet. The majority of the evidence we needed was found days ago-we’re only here to make sure that the last batch didn’t miss anything—Merlin’s Balls! Get the rest of the team down here-I think I’ve found the entrance to the dungeons. I’ll just check...........k—Sweet Merlin!”
Draco tried again, in vain, to look up, to see the intruders, the aurors entering what he had considered for over a decade, to have been his ‘other’ room’, his own naked state not even registering as the faint, lumos-produced light drew closer and closer.“….and the consequential disappearance of your mother, along with the current incarceration of your father….”
‘Please, come back. I’ll become a Death Eater if it will make you happy, I’ll do anything, kill anyone. Please…I know it can be done, I know it. Black broke out-Why can’t you? I know I’m no Potter, but I’m your son; doesn’t that count for something?
Mother always said you saw me as a disappointment. She always reminded me that it was my duty as a Malfoy, as a pureblood, as your son, to follow ‘Our Lord,’ to become one of his faithful, loyal servants, to become a Death Eater. She said that that was what you wanted. If it would make you proud, I would do it. I would hate every second of it; the raids, the torturing, the rape, the darkest of the dark arts, the pointless, brutal massacring of innocents, of children, the bowing, the scraping, the grovelling at that half-blood’s feet whom all the adults in my life seem to have worshiped.
I thought you told me that a Malfoy bows to no man? You told me that Malfoy’s were purebloods, an ancient, powerful line of Wizards that had been labelled ‘dark’ because of how others feared us, feared out power, were jealous of our political status and riches. You told me a Muggle born witch or wizard was acceptable, was needed to prevent interbreeding, to make the gene pool stronger. Why, then, did what you told me, and what your told mother, differ so much?’ Draco thought.
“A group of witches and Wizards from the department of Wizarding Child Services have been working with the department of births, deaths, inheritances, as well as the department of pureblood lines and family trees, to try and track down a suitable, temporary guardian for you, as your godfather, one Severus Snape, is currently indisposed and cannot be contacted. However, the hard-working witches and wizards currently working on your case have been lucky enough to track down another relative of yours-the last living member, in fact, of a distant branch of the Malfoy family tree. A William Malfoy, I believe. His great-grandfather, back in the late 19th centaury split away from the Wizarding world, to marry a Muggle woman, we believe. That particular branch of your family tree seems to have become shrouded around about the time his son, William Malfoy II turned twenty one.”
Draco lifted dull, corpse-like eyes to gaze blankly up at the kindly, babbling, moronic ministry worker who had been unfortunate enough to have been assigned his case.
Fresh faced, young, naieve, he was likely her first case. What a way to be broken into the job-dealing with a Malfoy, and not just any Malfoy, a near catatonic one. Under normal circumstances, Draco would sneer, make snide comments and bet with his best friend, Blaise Zambini, on how long it would take him to give the young ministry worker a break down or get her to quit. Under normal circumstances, Draco Malfoy would not have been there.
“Unfortunately, you will not be allowed back to Malfoy Manor to retrieve any of your possessions, as Ministry Aurors are currently conducting official ministry business there.” The young woman broke it to him gently, glancing around to make sure that no-one was listening. “The Malfoy family vaults have been frozen for the time being.” Leaning forward, she whispered. “However, your personal vaults are still accessible.” She said, slipping something into his hands.
Draco glanced down. A small, leather duffle bag had been pushed into his hands.
“Don’t open it here-wait until later. I just thought… if there’s anything that I can do to help you-if you have any problems, send me an owl or fire call. I…the ministry have arranged for you to meet up with your relative at-“ She paused, frowning down at the document in front of her. “This cannot be correct. Someone must have made a mistake… I shall be back momentarily.” She assured him, as she hurriedly left her small, cluttered office, cosy, Draco supposed she had been aiming for, to find her superior, he assumed.
A spark of curiosity entered his eyes. Slowly, stiffly walking around the desk, his eyes flickered down, glancing across the document, trying to find fault with it, before sighing, taking a seat once more, resuming his disturbing, corpse like stance.
Moments later, the Wizarding ministry equivalent of a Muggle social worker came bustling back in, a frown upon her face. “Sorry about that” she apologised, returning to her desk.
“It would seem that your relative wishes for you to meet him at a Muggle venue-a night club” she, unlike other ministry officials, did not stumble over the Muggle term, frowning, she continued. “In Muggle London, called ‘Sin City’” Her frown deepened, concern entering her eyes, deepening as she glanced up at Draco over her papers. “Later tonight. Mr. W. Malfoy shall be there sometime shortly after ten, he assured us.”
She glanced across at a miniature, desk-sized grandfather clock. 3:58 pm. Six hours, give or take, until he would meet his relative for the first time. What would the poor boy do for six hours? She couldn’t just abandon him like that, now, could she?
“Why don’t you come back home with me for a few hours, hm? That way you can have something to eat and the chance to freshen up before meeting your relative, hm? I have—had, a little brother about your age—he used to come and stay with me during the holidays. Our parents thought it would be nice for him to see some magic-even though my little apartment is nothing compared to Wizarding standards, to normal muggles it’s pretty cool, apparently” She smiled distantly. “You can change into some more… suitable clothes for a muggle night out.” She offered, gently taking the blankly blinking boy by the arm. “Come on, this way now”
‘Father, please come back, please.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
End of chapter one.
What do you think? Don’t worry; she’ll be gone by the next chapter. No Oc’s if I can help it, and no mary-sue’s. Please review?
Edit: O.o dear god I cant believe I wrote that….. I forgot how terriable it was gonk that is why when you don’t work on a fanfiction for over a year it is an indication that it should be destroyed XP
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