A/N: This time I have something different for all of you. Horror. I've never written something like this before, so be gentle ;). (Besides, you could see this as a backstory for Draco in Secrets). I've made this for: The Not For The Faint of Heart Competition.
Summary: For Draco, the Manor was no more. And he is faced with a gruesome sight. First Person. Draco-centric. By DW.
I was back at Malfoy Manor again. But this time, it wasn't my home. She had become a whore, both used and abused by Voldemort. I could see it, as I was walking to the manor, its walls bleak and dreary. It had lost its shine, its healthy lustre. And all I could feel was fear. If a building, unyielding and strong, could fall to one man, what was that supposed to mean for us? If marble, stone, plaster and concrete gave up, what would that mean for its inhabitants? Would we bend and snap? Thrown away like a ragdoll. A puppet to a puppeteer, moved to that person's liking, having no will and no say at all. A sense of pending doom was hanging over my head, and even the word 'fear' sounded faint and laughable. This was more like bone-deep terror.
I entered the Manor, and no, I just could not call it a home. I don't think I could ever call it a home again. It would forever be a building who has been through too much. The haggard looks which greeted me sent shivers down my spine. Faces were sunken, eyes gleamed maniacally and I felt sick to my stomach. The euphoria I once felt for joining them was buried forever. This wasn't glory, nor pride, nor a game. This was a place where people were tortured. Where people were murdered. And suddenly I very much wanted to turn around and hide away. I was barely seventeen, and already it looked like I didn't have a future. Unable to kill, and unable to grasp a hand which offered protection and care. I was nothing. Nothing but a piece of miserable nothingness. We were sent to the drawing room. Everything save for the table and a few chairs was pushed up against the wall, a tangle of wooden limbs.
My eyes were drawn to a figure which floated upside down over the table and I felt sick to my stomach. Even my steps faltered for a minute, before mother pushed me forward, one wary eye out to the figure.
"Welcome, my friends. Please, do sit down."
My stomach lunged, and my eyes shot to the pale figure for a second. The next, however, I averted them. The man meant nothing to me but terror and fear. But that's how he works; sowing fear and causing suspicion. It just makes me hate him. To threaten to kill my parents, to order me to do something impossible… I just wanted him gone, however childish it sounded. I just wanted to wake up from the nightmare, to continue in a Voldemortless world. My father was seated left of me, while mother was sitting to his left side. She looked stiff and composed, her mouth a thin line, her eyes flashing and deadly. She was beautiful, and I felt remorse. That beauty like that could be tainted by one thing. And father… Father's skin looked waxy and yellow in the poor lighting of the room, and a sick feeling filled my stomach. For years I have looked up to this man. He was my idol, my pride, someone to look up to. But now… now he looked nothing like he majestic person I once saw him as. It was sad, and more than a little bit frightening.
My eyes found the figure floating above our table, and I shivered. Such a thing could never be good. Especially not when all the Death Eaters were summoned. I tasted bile in the back of my throat, knowing these people dirtied the very halls of the house, tainting its grandeur and regal stone. I could already feel the stone crumpling beneath my feet. How could no-one feel the pain of this house? How couldn't anyone hear it protest in silence? My train of thought was broken by the entry of both Professor Snape and Yaxley. I've always hated the Ministry suck-up. My gaze was yet again drawn to the floating figure, and for a brief second recognition flooded my brain, before it escaped my notice, seemingly there, but not quite. Everyone else carefully glanced away, but I simply couldn't. My mind simply wished to know who it was. This woman, she was familiar. I wondered what she'd done to deserve the Dark Lord's wrath.
With half an ear I listened to the Dark Lord giving orders, though my attention was drawn when the name Harry Potter was mentioned. My traitorous mind kept thinking that Potter just might be the one to get us all out of this mess.
The Dark Lord looked at the same body I was currently looking at, and he was clearly drowning in his thoughts. I had to repress my sneer. If only the bastard would actually drown. Once again half-listening, I heard them talking about the Ministry, and nearly snorted when everyone was impressed by the Imperius. The Ministry is full of idiots. It wouldn't take a lot to curse most.
When My Lord once again looked up to the body, I glanced away. A piercing scream made my heart stutter and it pumped more blood through my veins. I closed my eyes and swallowed. I knew who that scream belonged to. Merlin, I knew. I sneered as I heard Wormtail scramble out of his seat and out of the room. When My Lord said he required a different wand, I stiffened. All that went through my head was, 'not us. Please, not one of us.' But then one name dimly registered, and I closed my eyes, a lump lodged in my throat. I couldn't watch my father as he scrambled for purchase. I saw my mother curl one gentle hand around his wrist as I opened my eyes, and all I felt was sadness. It really, really shouldn't be this way.
My father handed the Lord his wand, and even my heartstrings were pulled as I saw the wand leave one hand, only to lie in another. I sat stone-faced as I heard my father describe his wand. I glanced up as My Lord drew his own wand and let a slight grimace be known when I saw my father make an involuntary movement, as if to grab the wand. I held my eyes open, not wanting to show a single weakness to the snake-like man, as he mocked us. Our family not happy with him in our house? Of course not. All he does is murder and torture.
Our Lord let his sentence finish in a long hiss, and I clenched my jaw as I saw that wretched snake. It climbed up against the chair of its master, its eyes gleaming dangerously. His eyes never wavered from my father, and I knew this conversation wasn't over yet. His return brings nothing but death and decay, humiliation and fear.
My mother gave an odd sort of nod, her neck stiff and held at an unnatural angle. She never once glanced at Our Lord, nor its pet snake. I could see it even though I had my gaze trained on the body floating above me. I glanced over at the snake-like man again, but averted my eyes as soon as I could. That man was terrifying and could read minds like no other. I gave a bitter sort of mental salute to my aunt for teaching me Occlumency. In the nastiest way possible. And of course she had to open her wretched mouth, blabbing about how much of an honour it was to have his tainting magic in our house.
I knew as soon as she finished speaking that the mocking and humiliation would continue, as Our Lord didn't look pleased with her words. And it proved when he talked about the marriage between my old teacher and our cousin. I kept my face carefully black as several Death Eaters jeered, and all in all made a lot of noise. I had a wary eye out to the snake, which hissed venomously. I glanced at my aunt, whose face turned ugly, as she told our Lord she wasn't our cousin anymore.
As my name was called, I fearfully looked up. The jabbing words continued, and I glanced at my father, who's gaze was averted to his lap, his jaw tightened and his lips were stretched in an ugly sneer. As I saw that no support would come from that front, I briefly glanced at my mother. She carefully shook her head, before she resumed her unseeing stare at the wall in front of her.
Our Lord quieted the Death Eaters and once again resumed talking. Didn't he ever stop? Wasn't our humiliation enough retribution? As he raised my father's wand with pale fingers, I had to contain my flinch. He aimed it at the floating figure, whom I had quite forgotten for the moment.
She trashed in her invisible bonds as she woke up, and yet again the feeling of recognition settled in my stomach, yet remained elusive once again. I glanced away, embarrassed in her stead, my heart in my throat. Already her fate was sealed in my mind, and I guess everyone else's, too. It just didn't seem right to look. It was improper. My heart was beating fast and I swallowed heavily. My attention was caught, however, when the Dark Lord asked Severus if he recognised our 'guest'. He confirmed he did know her, and next the Dark Lord asked me if I knew her. I shook my head haltingly.
Apparently, the woman was Charity Burbage. Everything about me froze at once, but I didn't dare look up. Especially now. I saw her at Hogwarts, and it was confirmed as the Dark Lord continued talking. Muggle Studies, too. Now I understand why she is here.
I knew, that as she turned hopeful eyes to Severus, she was lost. "Avada Kedavra." The body fell down on the table, and I fell backwards with my chair, my eyes wide and my face a complete mask of shock, pain barely registering. I knew, because I could feel my face contorting. I barely heard the dreaded words, a few seconds before the ugly fat snake slithered over the table, to the dead body. I felt the colour drain from my face as the snake got even closer, its eyes intend on its prey. I watched as the snake opened its mouth and almost wholly consumed the head of the dead woman, its mouth greedy and unrelenting. I couldn't feel sick because I was sure I didn't even have a stomach anymore. I was rooted on the ground, still sprawled out from my earlier fall, shock keeping me still and my mouth lax.
I watched with horror as the snake positioned itself so she could open her mouth wider to work around the shoulders of its prey, her tail flicking angrily from side to side, her eyes roving the many faces of each around us. No-one left their seats and no-one left the room. No-one even dared to move a muscle, all transfixed on the sight before them. A maniacal laugh lifted my eyes from the macabre sight slightly above and away from me. My eyes settled on my aunt instead, whose cackle raised every single hair on my body, its sound ringing through the room long after she finished her chuckling. The silence after that was ringing, the only sound was made by a hungry snake who managed to reach past the shoulders of the professor. For the first time I felt my stomach churning, the breakfast I had consumed earlier rolling around dangerously in my stomach, roiling. I felt faint, my head felt as if it was stuffed with cotton. It simply could not process the horror.
I couldn't shelter my eyes, couldn't protect me from the horror bestowed on me. This wasn't what I had wanted. It never was, nor would it ever be. My world narrowed down to the half-eaten woman and the monstrous snake, while bile rose in my throat. The enormous throat constricted and relaxed in turn, its jaw working along the body, inching forth slowly but surely.
"My friends, here you see a world without Muggleborns. Anyone who doesn't go along calmly will befall the same fate. Can you all imagine it? A world without abominations? Can you imagine how good it will be?"
Several Death Eaters murmured their agreement. I saw my parents sitting stone-faced.
It took me a second before I felt red eyes trained on me.
"Young Draco, why don't you sit back up again? The floor can't be too comfortable."
The Death Eaters around us snickered yet again, and my nostrils flared minutely. "Yes, My Lord." I inclined my head, before I cautiously stood up, my feet jelly-like and wobbly. Another bout of nausea nearly made me double over as I came face to face with the monstrosity. I turned my head and put my seat back up, momentarily glancing at my parents, their gazes averted.
"Watch, Draco. Watch as the vermin we're fighting against is cleared away, as if nothing had been there to begin with. Isn't it a pretty sight? To see the blood running down their body, their screams echoing across the room, pleading for mercy which you won't give them. We must be unmerciful to win this war, to extinguish the light in their eyes, to take away all hope. Or else they'll overtake us and attack."
The words sickened me, and once upon a time I might have believed them. I might want what he told us. But not now. Not now I've seen the murder and mayhem in this very house. The evidence was lying in front of me. I sat back in my chair, my legs completely giving up on their quest to remain standing. I once again inclined my head, and he nodded once, before his vicious gaze was drawn to the slaughtering in front of us.
I couldn't bear to watch. Not anymore. The snake was already at her hips, and the humanlike shape further along her body was sickening, the reality glaring so harshly I had to shield my eyes. But I knew I had to watch. My Lord would think less of me than he already does, and it would only resolve in a bout of torture. And Merlin knew I wasn't suicidal enough for that to happen. So, with bile rising in my throat, I looked in the general direction of the horrific sight. The snake's malicious eyes settled on my own grey ones, but I couldn't blame the snake for this. After all, how could you look down on a snake eating meat? It's in its nature to hunt and eat. It was her owner who was the problem. Just as with dogs. The dog itself might be more aggressive than most, but the owner can make it escalate. The owner can train the dog to attack, to kill or to injure. The dog itself wouldn't if there was no reason. But I don't think I could ever look at snakes again without fear. She had managed to get the hardest part over with and was already at the knees of the woman, the mouth hungrily swallowing the limbs. I wouldn't have believed it if someone told me a snake could eat a whole person, but here was the evidence. Evidence which soon would be swallowed whole, before it was digested.
I swallowed rapidly, trying to get my stomach under control. It would be the stupidest thing if I managed to sick up right here. The saliva kept coming though, and my stomach was roiling. I dimly heard the scraping of chairs, and I stood up, too. My Lord left the room, and the remaining Death Eaters filtered out, too. I walked the opposite way, until I closed the door behind me. Dashing through the halls, I was just in time to reach my bathroom, where I emptied my stomach, huge heaves shaking me to my bone. It kept going and going, and I didn't think it would ever stop. It was too much, and I realised tears were rolling down my cheeks. Even when my stomach was empty I continued dry-heaving. A hand settled on my shoulder, and I pulled back, flushing the toilet, before a sob slipped out of my mouth. I curled in on myself, willing the images away, as my mother gathered me in her embrace. She stroked my back soothingly, and I moved into her embrace, my eyes drooping.
I woke up, drenched in cold sweat, my eyes swivelling wildly across the room, my mind still stuck in the bathroom with the recent events fresh in my memory. My breathing calmed, however, when I noticed I was in the Slytherin dormitory, safely ensconced in my bed. I fell back against my pillow, my heart slowing down. I closed my eyes, turned my head, and fell asleep again.