a/n – Well, this has been on my desktop for a while, just needed some editing (told ya, I'm digging out some old stuff). WARNING- This is ridiculously overdramatic and angst-filled. So go ahead! R & R! I'm also taking beta requests, so feel free to go check my beta profile out. PEACE OUT.

I don't own HP. I'm afraid that honour goes to Rowling

Pale moonlight fell onto the wooden floor and the walls through the gaps in the curtain. The corridor stood empty with a strange, hollow silence that resounded through the whole mansion. He stood behind the door frame, his silver hair falling in his fearful eyes. He leaned ever so slightly forward, staring into inky darkness that was laced with silver. A terrifying scream pierced the air and echoed through the empty halls. More shouts and screams. A pleading cry and sobs found his small ears. He shrunk back behind the door and buried his face in his arms. The door burst open and the yelling turned louder, sharper. He wanted to tune the voices out but he couldn't. As suddenly as it started, it was over, silence once again claiming the house. Suddenly, he felt a pair of powerful arms yank him back; hie felt his breath being pulled out through his lips. The sudden motion confused him, scared him. His lips parted but all that came out was silence. His back collided with the wall and blackness captured him. He slumped down against the wall, a searing pain running down his back. His dizzied eyes glimpsed the large figure that stood before in the shadows. He already knew who it was. The pain still burned, refusing to die down. Through his fading vision he saw someone else come in. The new comer was crying in sobs, her voice high pitched and strained. She yelled something and he managed to catch it.

"He's only a child. Spare him, Lucius. It's me you have hurt for so long. Let it be that way! Just leave the boy alone." She said between sobs.

He turned to her and grabbed her neck, his fingers tightly winding around. He pulled her up and spat in her face. She struggled to breathe; a few gasps escaped her lips.

"Weaklings." He rasped. "Weaklings is what I have been given. I shall not have this! Understand? If you live in this mansion, be worthy of its name." He let go of her neck and walked towards the door, not looking back. She gasped and took several deep gulps of air and rubbed her neck. She scurried towards the young boy and gathered him in her arms. She turned to the man at the door and screamed.

His heart had been very fragile, very thin, just like a vase. But now all that was left was broken glass.

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