Definitely one of the pieces I struggled to write the most, but I this idea has always been running through my head. Written for the HPFC for the Wand Wood Challenge for Holly.
Enjoy!
"Mummy! Mummy help me! Please Mummy!" The five year old's scream echoed around their huge house, filled with pain and hurt and hope. Hope that she would come and help him. Protect him from harm. But how could she do it? How could she protect him from his own father?
Narcissa whimpered, unable to move from the corner of her room, where she was curled tightly in a ball. It wasn't as if she hadn't tried to help before; she had, but he had always been stronger than her. She'd attempt to save Draco, move him out of his father's way, take the beating meant for him until she was bloody and battered and unable to take anymore, screaming and pleading for his mercy, for him to stop.
It would be then, when he would laugh. Not a happy laugh, but a dark one, an evil one, full of disgust and humour and… hatred. Hatred for her. Hatred for their son. Hatred for the world in which he lived in, never good enough for him, never satisfying him, making him more and more angry by the day. He would start off murmuring to himself, then suddenly yelling so loudly in her face that her ears hurt and he was so close to her that she could just make out the lines in his face and the rage in his eyes.
The rage, burning bright as a fire, so prominent you couldn't miss it.
This wasn't Lucius. It couldn't be.
Because she loved Lucius.
And she didn't love this man.
Once he was done screaming and spitting at her, she would be left, lying in the corner of the room, blooded and even more broken than before.
If that was possible.
Then, he turned, a malicious look in his eye, hungry like a wolf, powerful like a lion, disceiving and cunning like the snake he was. But there was no question about what he would do next. And it tore her bit by bit, watching him torture the young, blonde haired, blue eyes boy they'd created.
Draco would scream at first, begging him not to come any closer, to leave him alone. He'd press his back to the wall, craning to get away from the monster etching his way forward towards him, shaking like a leaf, his face even paler than before.
But as soon as Lucius placed one finger on him, he was silent. Still, he was shaking and quivering, but it was as if they were in a silent movie. No one dare make a noise. The only noise to be heard was the ragged breaths of the 2 humans in the room. The other one made no noise. He was silent for a moment.
Then he would lash out. Kicking, punching, pushing, pulling; everything. The small boy made less noise than her, accepting the inevitable, silently crying through everything. But not once did he tear his eyes from his mother.
They were a pale blue, a broken blue. They were wise beyond their years, filled with pain and regret and hurt and sorrow and despair. No hope. No happiness. No love. Nothing like a 5 year old's eyes should look like.
Once he was done, he'd swiftly leave, leaving no trace he was here in the beginning, leaving them lying broken and battered on the floor.
She'd drag herself across the room to her little boy, biting back the pain, determined to reach him. She'd take him in her arms, a safe place, a warm place, and whisper sweet nothings in his ears, telling tales of far away lands, with love and happiness, where nothing could go wrong, telling him that some day they would go there, and be far, far away from all of this.
It broke her to lie to him, to know that this would never stop, that he'd most likely grow up and follow in his fathers footsteps. But in those precious moments, it was just him and her, and nothing could hurt them.
He took a long, shaking breathe, and whispered, 'Mummy."