Going home is always the worst.
Sure I can keep appearances at school when HE'S not there, but at home I become a completely different person.
I'm useless. He tells me that every second of every day.
"You useless ball of fuck! Couldn't even kill that puny little Dumbledor. You aren't even fucking worth it."
He won't kill me. And its always the same excuse.
"You aren't even fucking worth it."
Why won't he just kill me? I'll be less of a pain. He won't have to see his little cunt of a son. That's what he calls me. Won't even call me by my name.
Luckily, though, I can smell where he is and avoid him if I have to.
The smell of firewiskey is always apparent in any room of the manor, but is stronger where ever HE is. Sometimes HE gets so drunk that he forgets I'm there. Those are the best days.
Usually, he beats me.
Does he hate me? What did I do wrong?
Oh, I know. I just AM wrong. A fucking mistake. Can't I make it up to him?
No
I can't. He'll never love me. Never.
Unfortunately, it's the holidays, so I have to come home.
The train ride there is silent and I'm greatful for that. I relish every moment of fist not hitting skin. Bones not cracking from the pressure of a boot on my ribs.
Bliss.
But when the train stops and I get off, I see him. Oh gods he's here to pick me up. No!
Save me.
/0/0/0/0/
Out in public he's prestine and perfect, but at home is when he let's himself go.
We start walking towards the apparation point, careful not to show any hints of abuse in front of everyone.
We get home and he grabs me by the scruff of my neck and brings me up close.
"Listen to me you fucking cunt. Today is that day. You know what that means right, boy? ANSWER ME!" He throws me on the ground, my face landing in a patch of mud made by the continuous rain that beats upon he and I.
I manage to rasp out one word to appease him, but I know that whatever I do, it can only make it worse. "Y-yes"
"Of course 'yes' you little shit. Now get your lazy ass of MY lawn and prepare yourself in the bed. GO!"
I know what he means by 'prepare myself'. I always forget about, this day. Its the anniversary of mum's death.
'Prepare' means exactly what you think it means. Be ready to be fucked without mercy. I have to go to the special bed used for this day and only this day.
I go into the room and start to undress. With shaking hands I take the dress off of the chair to the right and start to put it on instead of my other clothing. HE expects me to be her. He wants me to use her underwear, bra, dress, makeup, shoes, perfume so he can pretend that she is still here. He wants me to be her when he fucks me. Not his useless son.
Then, I get on the bed and shift the panties to I can prepare my hole for his enterance.
He never allows me to use lube. No one as stupid and fucked up as me deserves that luxury. No one is as stupid and fucked up as me. I'm the worst.
I moan as I think about the one I love doing this to me instead of thinking about HIM fucking me.
But the man I love hates me and would never return my feelings or even accept them. No one would actualy want someone as useless and unattractive as me.
No one.
The door bursts open before I can even put a second finger in.
With one swift, graceful movement I'm laying down and he is on all fours on top of me.
"You're so beautiful, Narssisa. I want to hold you. Kiss you. Make love to you." He glares at me, "YOU! Not some useless brat you stuck me with."
It always happens around the same lines. Narssisa is the beautiful one. Not me. Never me.
Never.
One tear escapes me before I can stop myself.
SLAP
He slaps me. Hard. Right across my face.
"You're not allowed to be sad. You killed her! YOU FUCKING KILLED HER!" He snaps and pulls my legs up in a position that reveals my arse.
Suddenly he shoves his cock into my arsehole. I scream out in pain, but he doesn't stop, if anything, he speeds up faster.
"Narssisa. Narssisa. Narssisa. Merlin, yes. I love you." He always yells out her name when he fucks me, but I barely notice through the copious amounts of pain each hard thrust is causing me.
Suddenly, he pulls out of me and shoves me into a different position. He pulls the dress up and pushes me against the wall.
Again his unwanted cock is shoved up me, bringing me more pain than ever. I never try to imagine my love doing this to me. He would never hurt me. He would be the hero. I love him. But never me. I always get the short end of the stick.
Always.
But I only deserve the least. Or even nothing at all.
The pain comes back ten-fold because he's holding my wrists behind my back. They're sure to bruise.
Even if it takes less than a minute it feels like hours until his hot white semen spills into me.
He pulls out of me slowly and lets go, blood and cum spilling everywhere.
"Leave. I want to be alone." Understanding his wishes I start getting up slowly, because I don't want to hurt myself more than I am. How selfish. "LEAVE!" I'm so scared that he will hurt me more that I rush up and run out of the room to my own chambers.
The feeling of aloneness calms me and I finally collaps and break down.
Pitiful.
The floor is so comforting and inviting compared to what I just went through that I'm finding myself falling asleep.
/0/0/0/0/
I think about my love every second of every day.
But don't I deserve him. I deserve all this pain. This suffering. Being at HIS disposal.
He rules with an iron fist that hits me every day. Especialy on that day.
That day was two months ago, today is the day I can go back to Hogwarts. Go back to being better than everyone else. Back to being Draco Malfoy, the pureblood. Not the weak fucking whore that takes it up the arse.
I think about this everytime I'm about to get on the train. Remind myself of how useless I am before getting on and becoming calm and confident.
It's this sort of ritual I preform. I have to do this because I might get used to being better. To having more. To deserving more. And that makes it all the harder to go back home to being worse than a house elf.
/0/0/0/0/
The train is cool.
The cold biting at my skin. It's calming really. It reminds me that I'm alive.
I always lock the compartment door when I'm in the train. Fresh from Malfoy Manor, I'm always sensative and still trying to put on my mask. It gets harder every year.
I hear footsteps outside and my posture stiffens. I'm always lost in my own mind. Sometimes I won't even notice someone sit next to me. I should be more carefull.
The footsteps stop at my compartment door and someone tries to open it. I stiffen further if that's possible. Apparently, the person doesn't understand that a locked door is a universal 'keep out' because I hear a hastened "alohamora" and the door swings open.
There, standing in the doorway is my one true love.
Harry Potter.
/0/0/0/0/ Harry's POV
"Malfoy?" The boy that tormented me and my friends for years, the one who insulted hagrid my first time meeting him just in spite, here he is, a teary-eyed red-faced snotty mess.
"P-potter. Don't you," sniff "you get the consept of," sniff "a locked door?"
I don't believe I'm saying this to Malfoy of all people but, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, Potter. I don't need your pity." He spits this out like its venom, but I still feel compeled to comfort this new, emotional Malfoy. I don't resist the urges and find myself huging him. I know I shouldn't, but I am strangely attracted to him right now.
I feel him stiffen against me, but I'm not letting go. "P-Potter, y-you do under-understand that you-you're hu-hugging Draco Malfoy, you're wo-worst ene-enemy since fi-first year?" His voice croaks out, but I ignore him and squeeze him tighter.
"Is it against the law?" I ask snarkily.
"No, b-but don't you ha-hate me?" He wispers and it sounds like he's scared of my answer.
I ponder this for a second before answering, "Yes," he stiffens even more if that's possible. "but right now I don't. I hate the Draco Malfoy that sneers in my direction every day. The Draco Malfoy who speaks ill of my friends just in spite of me. THIS Draco Malfoy, the one who is stuttering and crying in front of me, I like. I have no idea why, but I like you this way."
After I finish saying that, Draco, yes, Draco pushes me from him and I see his expression. His eyes are wide with confusion and his eyebrows have shot up to his hairline. His mouth is slightly open in shock and his normaly porcelain-white face is beet red to his ears, an adorable pink flush. Translation, gorgeous.
I chuckle and spectacularly he blushes an even darker red.
Adorable
"Why?" He asks with complete inocence
"Why, what?" I tease him.
His response is not what I hoped for. He cries. Draco Malfoy cries his heart out and, smiles?
"Thank you. Thank you so much." And he jumps me.
We're huging for a long time. I tell myself that it's just intriguing to see Draco show so much emotion, but I can't fool myself.
I have a crush on Draco Malfoy.
/0/0/0/0/ Draco's POV
He's holding me. He's holding me. He's holding me. He's holding me. He's holding me. He's holding me. He's holding me. He's holding me. He's holding me.
Oh. My. God. He's holding me. Useless me. I don't deserve it, but I'm enjoying the sensations too much. Even if it's pity.
Of course it's pity. How could I be so stupid and nieve. He doesn't like me. Never.
Oh great. Now I'm crying again, but this time out of pain. No wonder he pities me.
"Hey, don't cry. It's alright now. I've got you"
Harry, that makes me cry even harder. You are probably super discusted by me right now, but your Gryffindor loyalty is keeping you here. Even if I'm useless scum, but even if I know that, I still have hope.
I take the chance to look up and see tears in your eyes and I know, I just know that you feel it too. Maybe there is still hope. Maybe I can be loved.
Thank you, Harry Potter, for saving me.
-fin-
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