One Redeeming Feature
Narcissa's hand clutched Draco's tightly, her nails dug painfully into her son's palm but he barely registered it. The sounds of battle erupting behind them spun away as they disapparated. The main sitting room of Malfoy Manor built itself before their eyes. Narcissa sat her son down beside her on a black leather, silver footed chaise longue and stroked his hair tenderly, murmuring reassurances from which she got no response.
"It's ok now Draco, it'll all get better"
Lucius Malfoy clicked into view, his face gaunt and unshaven. He glared at his wife, voice full of anger born of fear rather than righteousness. "What were you thinking Narcissa? He demanded "We must be present at The Dark Lord's victory" Narcissa stopped tending to Draco and rose to her feet "Victory? You fool" Lucius staggered back from the impact of his wife's pale hand "He couldn't kill Potter, and you heard what that Longbottom boy said, as if he could win after that" Lucius' neck pulsed as he tried to regain some composure "The outcome is not definite, I'm doing this for us, for Draco" Draco seemed to flinch at the mention of his name. Narcissa snarled, a mother tiger defending her cub.
"Don't you dare bring him into this Lucius, you've done enough damage, you've dragged us down from the very beginning. Get out."
"This is my house Narcissa"
"Get Out!" The vase that had been standing on a small table beside Lucius exploded. Lucius gulped and took a hasty step backwards before speaking again.
"Very well, but I am taking my son. Come Draco"
"He's not yours anymore"
"I don't belong to anyone"
The warring pair stopped silent. Their son's voice was quiet, pained but strength born of trial underpinned it.
"What did you say Darling?"
"I said I don't belong to anyone" He got shakily to his feet. Memories of cold hands on his shoulders and the chilling absence of a heartbeat within a chest. Memories of swirling fire consuming the only constant companion he had ever known. Memories of Potter, who had risked his life to save an old enemy. He gripped his mother's wand tightly and closed his eyes.
Cool air, fresh from the sea soothed his sore and bruised face. He gasped as he felt his arm twinge sharply with pain. He hurriedly pulled his sleeve up and stared in disbelief, the Dark Mark had faded to no more than the palest of thread like scars.
It was over.
He could breathe again.