1. The Study


A/N: Before I begin this story, I'd like to say that the views represented in these chapters are NOT necessarily the views held by me, the author. For instance, I am actually a massive Lucissa shipper, and do not believe that Lucius would ever beat or abuse Cissy or Draco. I believe that Lucius and Narcissa had a beautiful, brave, and very respectful relationship. Were the Malfoys flawed people? Yes, and extremely so, but I believe that their strong family bond (especially during the trying years of 1996-1998) was a redeeming characteristic. Just giving you a hint of my personal beliefs before you delve into this Lucius-is-a-monster fest.

WARNING: This chapter contains corporal punishment of both a minor and a woman for unjust reasons. It's non-explicit, but be careful if this might upset you!


I rap softly on the door to my father's study, taking a deep breath and trying to calm my shaking body. "You, um, you summoned me, father?"

"Come in."

I close my eyes and swing the study door open. My father sits with his head bowed, his long white-blond hair tied neatly back, and his elbows resting on his mahogany desk. My mother is also in the room, sitting stiffly on a low divan with her lips tightly pursed.

"Take a seat, Draco." My father motions to the uncomfortable looking stool in the center of the room, and I hurry towards it on unsteady legs. "As I'm sure you're aware, your mother and I have asked you hear for a reason. We received an owl from Hogwarts today, did you know that?"

My heart drops like a stone. I grit my teeth, blocking out a groan of horror as I fight for a response. "No sir." I say quietly, staring intently at my feet.

"Look at me when I speak to you, Draco." My father's deep voice is simultaneously silky and commanding, sending shivers over my spine. I raise my eyes, looking fearfully into his stone cold eyes, which everyone says I inherited. "The letter included your grades, as well as the percentage with which they compared to those of the other students."

I swallow, only to find that my tongue has adhered itself to the roof of my dry mouth. This is going to be a repeat of my first year—and last year. I just know it. "Yes, father." I choke out, hugging myself instinctively to stop the spasms in my arms and chest.

"Do you have any idea of how you did?" My father raises himself in his seat, his long fingers tracing a plump envelope on the desk before him.

He's playing a cat and mouse game with me—he does often. No matter what I say, the outcome will be the same. He's only doing this to shatter my nerve. "No sir—but I did try my best, and-"

"Silence!" My father bellows, shoving his chair back and striding over to me. He seizes my ear, twisting my head to the side awkwardly. I wince in pain, sealing my lips and resolving not to make a sound. "When a Malfoy gives his best, he always succeeds. You did not succeed in anything but failing me, again. Do you understand what that means? It means that you are either lying, and didn't give your best effort, or you are not a Malfoy. Which is it, then?"

I open my mouth, trying to make a noise, but nothing comes.

"Lucius. That's enough—he's just a boy." My mother says softly, and my father gives my ear another vicious tug.

"He is fourteen years old. I should have thought that three years at Hogwarts would have made a man out of him—I should have sent you to Durmstrang instead!"

I inhale sharply and turn my eyes upon my father. I ignore the fast rising heat in my cheeks and force myself to speak. "I am a man! But I am not a liar. I gave my best effort—Hermione Granger is just…"

My father snatches the letter from his desk, pulling a gold embossed slip of parchment from the envelope and thrusting it into my hands. "Read." He commands, and I obey.

I earned high marks in everything. There isn't a single class where I got below Exceeds Expectations. I'm the second best for third year… Granger is just better. "Father…" My voice trails off at his angry glare. "I- I'm sorry!"

Father grabs my shoulder, shaking me roughly. I feel like my bones are about to crack, and it's all I can do to keep from crying out. "A Malfoy is never sorry! A Malfoy is always right—always the best. You are no son of mine!" He yells, pulling me from my seat and slapping my cheek with the back of his hand. His heavy ring digs into the flesh only a few centimeters from my right eye. I turn my face away, breathing hard as he shoves me back against his bookshelf.

"Lucius! Please, that's enough." My mother rises to her feet, reaching out as if to restrain her husband from across the room.

"There is no such thing as 'enough', woman!" He snarls, his long hair falling across his eyes as he towers above me. "Never enough money, never enough power, never enough drink. And certainly never enough punishment."

He stoops to gaze into my eyes, his breath smelling of firewhisky and his pale face flushed in rage. Suddenly, he straightens, striding across the room and seizing a leather belt from a hook on the wall. I groan, unable to restrain my fear and anguish. I know this strap well, and the very sight of it makes me feel pain. "Take off your cloak, boy." I hasten to obey, fumbling at the silver catch until the dark fabric tumbles from my shoulders and to the ground. "What are you wearing?"

My head almost spins with fear. Why today, of all days, did I choose not to wear my typical suit and slacks? "A- a tee shirt and jeans, s-sir."

"Your punishment will be increased for your slovenly habits. No Malfoy will dress like a common Muggle. Hold out your hand." Father's eyes are like ice as he strides towards me. My mother utters a low moan, sinking back to her seat on the couch. I extend my hand, turning my face away so that I won't have to watch the red welts appear on the pale skin with every stroke from my father's belt.

Fourteen times the lashes fall, but by the eighth my hand is bloodied. I blink back a tear of pain, resolving to remain strong. Malfoys do not cry—and I must make my father proud.

"Now turn yourself around." My father's voice is so cold that I can practically hear the icy edge in it. I turn without speaking, resting my forehead against the wood shelves and leather bindings of the bookcase. The scent of books flood my senses with every breath I take. I groan in pain as Father cracks the strap across the thin fabric covering my back.

"Lucius! Stop!" Mother screams as Father brings the strap back down four sharp times in succession. I squeeze my eyes closed, moaning in agony.

"Sit back down, Narcissa. Draco, for three years I've had to read your pathetic grades—for three years you have not failed to disappoint me. Now will you, or will you not be able to make a change next year?"

"I will! I promise!" My voice cracks as I answer immediately. The belt falls on me once again, and I feel tears leaking from my eyes. I bury my face in my arms, sobbing quietly as my father finishes the fourteen lashes that I seem to have earned.

"Stop crying boy, or I will be forced to whip you into shape once more!" My father turns from me to hang the slightly bloody leather belt back on its hook. My back feels wet and sticky as I stumble back from the bookcase. I wipe the tears from my cheeks quickly, sniffing a bit as I face my mother. It takes a few moments to realize that tears are running from her blue eyes as well.

She takes a deep breath and stands. "Lucius Malfoy, that was unacceptable. I've put up with you beating your own son senseless since he was ten years old—but this is it. You are forcing him to become a man when he is yet a child, and he did nothing to deserve that many lashes."

In that moment, my respect for my mother grows tenfold. I've always loved her—but now I admire her. I admire her for her sheer guts to stand up to the monster that she has married.

My father faces her slowly, beckoning her forward. She straightens her shoulders, stepping to stand before him. Her long blond hair ripples behind her as she stares at him. With a hawk-like movement, my father's hands are around her throat.

"Stop! Dad! Let her go!" I scream, stumbling forward—as if any of my efforts would do any good. Mother squirms, scratching at Father's arms as he shoves her backwards. She falls against his desk, her sleek hair now all over her ashen face as she gropes behind her. Her fingers close around a book, and she lifts it as if to strike my father. He easily rips it from her grasp, slapping her hard across her face. She cries out, a whimper that almost breaks my heart. "Stop it!" I yell again.

My father doesn't ever look at me as he raises his hand. "Petrificus totalus." He is to powerful—able to freeze my entire body without even using a wand.

I fall forward, face planting on the floor and feeling my nose shatter as I hit the hard wood. Blood bubbles out around me, and I can hear my mother weeping and the sharp slap of my father's belt as I lay. I'm unable to see what's happening… but that's probably a good thing.

Loud footsteps pass by, and the study door is opened and then slammed shut as my father exits. I whimper, tasting my blood as I struggle against the curse.

"Draco?" My mother's soft hands run over my shoulders as she whispers the counter-curse, releasing me. "Are you all right? Oh, sweetheart… I'm here now." I blink rather groggily into her bruised face as she lifts me onto her lap. "Episkey!" She waves her hand over my face and back, and I feel my skin burn with heat and then shiver with cold as my wounds are healed.

I touch my nose gingerly, wiping the blood away. I'm relieved to find that it has been reset. "I'm fine. Are you all right, mother? I'm sorry… I'm sorry I couldn't stop him!"

"Shh." She whispers soothingly, helping me to my feet. "You did fine. Let's go to your room, alright, sweetie? We can wait until your father calms down."


I open the bathroom door, starting in surprise to see that my mother is still waiting patiently in the armchair beside my bed. "Oh… I'm sorry mother! I wouldn't have taken so long if I had known that you would be waiting." I pull my shirt over my head and shake the water from my shower from my hair.

"It's fine, dear. You needed to get washed up. Draco, come here. I have something very important to tell you, and I want you to be perfectly honest to me about how it makes you feel." I frown in concern, kneeling at her feet and taking her hands. "I'm going to leave your father. I want to take you with me—and I want to move to a Muggle neighborhood." She says calmly. My mouth falls open.

"M-Mother? I- I…" I don't know what to say. I want her to be safe, and I desire to be free of my father… but that would mean leaving the only life that I've ever known! And a Muggle town? It's almost unfathomable. "Yes. Yes, I want to come with you. I'm surprised—but I want to leave." I say finally, turning my eyes upon her.

Her face splits into a wide smile, and she bows her head in relief. "Good boy. Now you need to listen to me very carefully, Draco. I'm going to visit my sister Andromeda today—she'll know how to help us. I'll come back for you tomorrow morning to take you with me. It'll be very early, and I'll need you to be up and packed. We'll go through your porch door—I don't want to face your father. I'm going to write a letter to him as soon as we're off, but until then I want you to stay in your room. I'm putting a locking charm on, and no matter how hungry or bored you get, you need to promise me that you won't leave or let anyone in till I come for you in the morning. Can you promise me that?"

I nod quickly and solemnly, feeling dangerous and brave. She rises, pressing her lips against my forehead before stepping to the curtained door that leads from my room to my small balcony. I wave farewell, smiling with a spark of new hope. "I'll see you tomorrow, mum. I love you."