A/N: Sequel of sorts to 'Smother Me' and 'Bury Me'. Written in Narcissa's point of view. She rambles and is rather bitter. yeah.
WARNINGS: Urgh . . . rape, bit of child abuse, slash, homophobic-ness, etc.
Watch Me
You're scum, you know? The both of you.
All Malfoys are scum. Spawn of the very devil himself . . .
But then you'd probably take that as a compliment, wouldn't you? Say, 'oh how kind you are, Narcissa' and 'yes, that's right, I am, aren't I?' and expect me to just smile in a simpering way and play the part of the beautiful rich wife, the kind, caring mother, the gorgeous statue of ice who melts for no one but her husband.
You disgust me.
Did you think that I'd become your slave, when you married me? Did you think that you'd be able to break me, make me into something you wanted me to be?
Then you definitely didn't know me then, and you don't know me now.
I mean, did you think that I loved you, despite the way you treated me, did you think that I adored you so much that I would get a dick for you and change my name to 'Jamie' like that disgusting wizard who looked like a filthy muggle, did you think that I cared for you so much that I would pretend to love you and worry about our son in the public eye?
Huh. I am a Black. I will do no such thing for a Malfoy.
It's really degrading, being called 'Narcissa Malfoy', you know? No more 'Cissy Black' for me, oh no sir, just 'the lovely wife of Lucius Malfoy' or 'the Malfoy Mistress' or 'Madame Malfoy' or 'that beautiful Narcissa, Malfoy's wife'. Never Cissy, never Black.
Sometimes I feel like asking you why you never smothered our son when he was two months old, but when I used to ask before, you'd just shake your head and tell me to forget about it.
Like hell I would, Lucius dear.
Forget about the only time, the only chance, the only ever opportunity you had to kill that sick minded little pervert we call our son at age fifty-nine days? Are you crazy?
You had a chance to rid me of that filthy little beast once and for all. When I came in and saw you with that pillow over his head, my heart jumped into my throat. My face didn't show it, of course (I just looked all cool and not bothered), but I was holding my breath – would you make my dreams come true? Would you kill that little Malfoy brat that I had born?
Two-letter answer: no.
Typical. Malfoys, always losing their nerve at the last moment.
Like that time you told me you were going to stop working for the Dark Lord. Remember that, Lucius?
God, I hate you. You don't understand how much I hate you. You ruined my life you flaming fag, you ruined my life!!
Oh yes, I know about your sexual preference. How could I not? I mean, we sleep in different rooms for Merlin's sake!
Yes, and I hear the name you moan at night in your room, Lucius, I hear you moaning 'Jamie', and occasionally 'Warren' and 'Peter' and other such disgusting male muggle names.
And I also hear the names Draco moans at night too, it's all 'Harry' or 'Wood' or 'Blaise' and countless other names of boys.
Merlin, you Malfoys are all the same, aren't you? So disgusting. How can you think it's normal to like someone of the same sex?
I heard when the Dark Lord shagged Draco, you know.
I heard it clearly, as it happened in the room next to mine. I heard, and I laughed. Laughed, because it was the funniest thing I'd ever heard, laughed as I heard my son's innocence being torn from him, and I bet the Dark Lord was rough, he always is with me, and I laughed in the privacy of my bedroom, because even though I couldn't affect you, the Dark Lord could.
Yes, I knew that you would resent him for touching your son, Lucius.
The next day, Draco's hands were shaking so badly he dropped an expensive glass and it smashed on the floor.
I took this as an opportunity to slap him and scream at him, berate him for making a mess at breakfast, and dig my nails deep into his scrawny little wrists.
He looked at me with dull eyes and said, "You can never hurt me, Mother. My life is too fucked up already."
And that was said in a tone completely void of emotion, oh you little brat, you think you know what pain is, you think you know, you think you deserve to act like I'm not even there, oh, how dare you become your father?
"Narcissa, just stop trying. We are Malfoys, Draco and I. You can't hurt us."
Oh, just watch me, my son. Watch me, my husband.
You don't notice me, you think I'm not important, you think that I'm just there, there for you to look at, to call 'wife' and 'mother', but no, no, my darlings, no . . .
I will use my long nails to gouge your eyes out, the both of you, I will pour acid all over your bodies and watch them burn, I will lock you in those dungeons you put me into for four days and four nights without any food or water (remember that, Lucius?), I will slip poison into your drinks and watch and laugh as you clutch your throats simultaneously and fall to the floor groaning in pain, and I will have my revenge . . .
For a Black always gets what she wants.
Once you told me that I would never be able to hurt you, or your son.
Watch me, Lucius.
Just watch me.
The End.