AN: Written for The Quidditch League Competition by Fire The Cannon

Disclaimer: I own nothing everuthing belong to J.K. Rowling

Narcissa Malfoy

I flinch as the screams of my husband fill our house. The fact that I know my son has to watch just makes it worse. I pretend to be def and try to continue reading my book. My efforts are in vain. I am unable to concentrate until the screaming has stopped. When I see everyone else leave I get more anxious to see my son and husband. My son comes out first.

"Draco," I say, "Where is your father?"

Draco looks at me. His shoulders starting to sag. His eyes have huge bags under them and he looks closer to twenty-five of thirty than the seventeen year old he really is.

"He is talking to the Dark Lord."

I sigh; it will be a while before I can talk to my husband.

"You should get some sleep." I tell him.

"Very well mother but so should you."

I smile softly at him, "When your father comes out."

He frowns, but nods, knowing I won't change my mind.

"Sleep well mum." He says before going upstairs to his room.

The wait for my husband to emerge was long, although the fact that no more screaming was herd made it slightly more bearable. When he finally dose come out he looks exhausted. I take him up to our room and get him into bed, giving him a potion to numb the pain. Once he had fallen asleep I decided to go check on Draco.

I quietly sneak into his room and make my way over to his bed. He is, thankfully, fast asleep. I frown at the thought. Something as simple as a good night's sleep should not be so hard to come by. However with the Dark Lord living in your house, a night were you could sleep soundly was a gift. I sit on the side of his bed and stoke his hair. I think sometimes Lucius forgets how young our son truly is. If he saw him sleeping he might remember. Because only when he is sleeping dose he look his age. His face is free of all worry and stress, He looks at peace. I wish he could look like that all the time. But the expectations his father has for him make him stressed out.

Draco mutters words in his sleep sometimes, they normally make no sense but some nights I can piece together sentences. Tonight though it's just jumbled mutterings. I sigh, I know I should go to bed and get some rest, but I so rarely get to see my son so calm and I wish we could stay like this forever. I hear a floor board creek and turn to see my husband standing in the doorway.

"You should be resting." I say.

"He gives me a tiered grin, "So should you."

I know he's right but shake my head and look back at my son.

"Narcissa, he wouldn't want you loosing sleep."

I sigh.

"Look at him Lucius, he looks so peaceful."

Lucius Malfoy

I gaze upon my son's face and see that –as usual- my wife is right. He looks so young, innocent even. My muscles scream at me in pain as I sit down, the effects from the earlier torture still present. I understand now why my wife dose not want to leave. To see him so peaceful is like a miracle.

"We should go," I tell Narcissa. "We don't want to wake him."

I gently grab her hand and guide her out of the room; I can tell she is reluctant to leave by the speed of he steps, or lack of there for. However she doesn't argue.

"Come on," I say. "We need sleep to."

As I lay in my bed beside my wife, my thoughts turn to my son, my Draco. I'm too hard on him I know. My expectations only add to his stress, but if he can't handle mine, how would he ever be able to handle the Dark Lord's?

I wish sometimes that I had never taken the mark, that I'd never joined the Dark Lord. When Potter had killed him I had been relived that my son would have a normal childhood. I quickly found out that that would not be the case. He would be hated by anyone who hated Narcissa and me. He would always be seen as a death eater's son. He hadn't done anything to receive the hate that he did before he even went to school. But I had contented myself with the thought that al lest he would never have to live through a war.

But I had -again- been wrong. He lived right in the heart of one. Of course to keep my family and my self alive I had not run when the Dark Lord came back. I returned to him. My son, who hadn't even graduated Hogwarts, was a marked death eater. He was also school rivals with Potter. The Dark Lord always wanted to know what Potter could be up to, every possibility that Draco could think of. What would he do if we attacked Diagon Ally? Or St. Mungo's? Who would help him? How did he think they'd get there? How fast? What was Potter's fighting style? What were his friends fighting styles? Thankfully Draco always managed to please the Dark Lord with his answers. Knowing that if he did not there would be consequences.

The Minister, a position he had basically had complete control over was know under the Dark Lord's control. I used to make sure that the votes were placed where it benefitted the Purebloods. I used to be one of the Minister's most trusted. But that was Fudge, who was now dead. The new Minister was the Dark Lord's puppet.

I hope this war ends soon. I don't like the idea of mudbloods and blood traitors in our society, but I am not blind, the longer this war goes on the more the chances increases that my family could be killed. Either by the Dark Lord. Or by Potter's friends and Dumbledore's old order.

I think back to Draco's peaceful expression. If the Dark Lord had never come to power I think we would see it more often. He is seven-teen he should be worrying about his N.W.E.T.'s and a girlfriend. Not if he will tortured or ordered to kill somebody.

Most call me heartless. And to almost everyone I am. But purebloods value one thing above money and that is family. As long as the members hold up their reputation or improve it and don't disgrace their name then they are the most important thing to their families.

My son is my pride and joy, he will live to see a peaceful world, even if it is the last thing I do.

AN: Thanks for reading please review