I don't know how I got to this point of self loathing. Slumped across the toilet after fucking my mother. I smell like her. Our sex. I heave again and nothing comes out. There's nothing left. I've tried going to my father. Hinting over the years at what she had been doing to me. The psychological pain she had been putting me through. I don't know if he chooses to turn a blind eye to what she does or genuinely has no idea what goes on his wife's sick and twisted head. Sometimes I think the physical pain that Aunt Bellatrix made people endure was nothing compared to what my mother has done. At least people could feel it. They could see it and understand it. To the world my mother is the perfect, beautiful wife. She's a doting mother. A kind volunteer to the victims of the war. She lied to the Dark Lord to save us all. Would anyone believe that she spends most mornings in front of the mirror? How disgusted people would be to learn that she says she has it worse than the victims of the war. Bemoans how hard it is to be a volunteer. Would they believe that lying is what she does best?
After the war, my mother demanded my father work more. We need the money, Lucius. Your behaviour has cost us everything! You don't want people thinking we are poor do you? She put herself in charge of fixing our 'reputation' but she still managed to find time to corner me and I just can't say no to her. I never have been able. Denying one of her requests, be it sexual or not, leaves me feeling full of guilt. Like I should be in Azkaban for some unspeakable crime. It's always been that way. While she might go on and on about the achievements of my father or myself in public, as soon as we are behind closed doors we are both constantly reminded that we are an embarrassment to her, we make her sick and stressed, or that we don't appreciate what she "has done for this family". The message that we are never enough is always reinforced. Dare to bring it to her attention and she will some how conveniently not remember it or say she is sorry that we feel that way, never that she herself is sorry.
She never particularly cared about my achievements unless they would somehow benefit her socially. She insisted my father buy the Sytherin quidditch team brooms as a gift to help secure me a place on the team even though I never wanted to play. Oh, and did I mention Draco made the quidditch team this year? Was all I heard out of her mouth that summer. So often I almost began thinking I had achieved it myself. I was relieved when she didn't show up for my first match as I knew it would be a disaster and it was. My enabling father must have told her everything as I received a scathing letter that evening expressing her embarrassment at my failure. Maybe I could have practised more. Maybe I could have put more effort into it.
But there were things that she critiqued me on over which I had no control. I was always, and still am, too thin for her liking. Never 'looking like man'. Has she not realised we share the same features? That I'm thin because of her and not just because I don't eat or empty the contents of my body after she touches me. There have been so many times I've been tempted to say "but mother, you're just as thin as I am. I can feel your hip bones prodding me when you pull me on top of you".
The sexual part of our relationship is more recent. In the beginning my mother would say things like "tell me to stop, darling, if you want me to stop". I told her to stop every time she said it and even when she didn't. Eventually I said nothing because she would always come back a few days later and ultimately the word lost all meaning.
I would be just as much of a liar as she is if I said I didn't like it. It feels wonderful to be wanted. I want her so badly I cannot fully express it. It is the one time she approves of me. She tells me yes instead of no. Whispers to me how wonderful I am and screams my name in pleasure and not in disgust. But then afterwards, when the sex and the haze disappear, I realise that again it is nothing but lies. I am deceived to give myself up to her fully and everytime she leaves me cold and wanting more. I want to know that my feelings are real and valid despite what she says. I would love nothing more than to destroy the Queen of Lies.
Author's Note: Many thanks to the wonderful Mrs Milfoy for being my beta