Author's Note: This is my first fanfic! Woo! Bear with me on this; I'm attempting to put onto paper all the crazy ideas that run through my mind. I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that you recognize from J.K. Rowling's brilliant mind. I only own my plot. (:
One moment is all it takes. A moment is a wonderful, destructive period of time that a human mind cannot wrap itself around its strange ways of working. One moment can go unnoticed, unappreciated and vanish along the fabric of time and memories. Yet, one moment can send one's soul through the most terrible turmoil, the foulest agony, and forcing said soul to retreat among the darkest depths of despair. This is what happened to Father.
Some say that a revelation this profound is the result of too many wrong turns, choices, and words. In Father's eyes, nothing was more correct. All his life, he had chosen the wrong people, places, and ideals. Through familial persuasion, he forced himself to believe that he was in the right. He was among those chosen under Merlin's eyes to be the greatest. He was Merlin's gift to the world. Oh, how foolish he had been.
He was a wise man and chose his family over his beliefs those many months ago. He struggled for countless hours, trying to find himself. He finally came to the conclusion that he had been wrong these many, many years. His pride had shattered to thousands of tiny, chipped pieces. For days, he sought out all the right people, "the heroes", and spent hours convincing them of his change, and spent many more hours giving them the rest of the information his mind held. He agreed to a minor sentence in Azkaban in return for the advantage of becoming accepted into his precious society once more.
Returning home, he knew far greater battles awaited him. He knew they were planning something wicked. He had been home for far too little time with his wife before it happened. His son was still struggling with the uproar overtaking his life and his mind; so much that he rarely left his room. Father grimaced as he thought of his son's unstable state and how this would either render him stronger, or worse, absolutely break him. After all, the worst had happened just today. The moment that had turned his entire life upside down left him feeling breathless. After it happened, Father retreated into himself. But as he sat there for hours, he realized that she needed him. For once, he would not let her down.
Father's shoes clicked along the polished marble floors with a purpose, with his magnificent robes flowing behind him. The ferocity of his glare would have frightened even the strongest man to retreat. Night had fallen and only the candlelight led Father to his destination. Within in a few steps, Father stopped abruptly at the beautiful French glass doors that led to his study. The sight of his son rendered him speechless.
Father was always taught to be dignified and proper, yet no one was here, so he allowed himself to slump against the doorframe. He rested his head on the glass and watched his son with as much intensity as his eyes would allow. A candle glowed on the davenport next to the chair in which his son sat. His son's face was hidden among the shadows. Yet, every so often, lightening cast itself throughout the room, illuminating his son's aristocratic features. His son's jaw was set and there was no emotion portrayed on his face. The only movement he made was his eyes darting back and forth, reading the words on the pages of a novel. The only indicator of his son's rage was his fingers. They were gripping his wand so tightly that his knuckles turned a glaring white.
Father's gaze was torn away when a massive pile of black stirred among his son's feet. The woman was regaining consciousness. Father saw her attempt to get up onto her knees. Seeing this, the son calmly laid his book on the davenport and remained seated. The woman was now on her knees and looked into his son's face, smirking. His son abruptly stood up and kicked her back into a lying position. She began to cackle and raised her eyes. Without any emotion, his son deftly landed another kick to the woman's jaw. Father could only stare at the scene unfolding. The woman struggled until she stood upright. Blood was spilling out of her mouth but her face broke into a smile. She began laughing and looked to her chest to see that his son held a wand to over heart.
Laughing hysterically, she screamed, "You'll never find her!" Father stood upright, unaccustomed to the woman's yelling that broke the eerie silence that sat upon his gloomy manor. His son seemed unaffected by the sudden noise and held his wand, still pointed at her heart.
"Where is she?" The son muttered, deathly calm. The woman cackled, spilling more blood on the floor. "Crucio," The son said with just enough rage to send her flying into the wall, her body convulsing so terribly Father almost looked away.
The son lifted the curse and Father heard the woman take a ragged breath. His son stealthily moved to stand in front of the woman, still no emotion emitting from his body. She was lying on the floor, panting, attempting to regain normal breaths. "I'll only ask one more time," his son continued as if nothing had happened, "where is she?"
The woman's eyes were wild and her hair was matted from blood. "The boys will return her body to you once they tire of her," she spoke normally, almost mockingly. "That is, to say, when she is good and dead from paying for all of your and your father's traitorous deeds," she spat, resuming her cackling.
The son moved his head to lock eyes with his father, finally acknowledging his presence. Father attempted to put words into his gaze but his son's eyes revealed none of the dark feelings that Father knew were lying underneath. After what seemed like an eternity, the son moved his head back to the woman still laughing on the floor. The son pointed his wand between her eyes, and spoke with a magnitude of rage, "Avada Kedavra!"
Father closed his eyes at the last second, feeling the green light's heat on his body. He was shell shocked that his own flesh and blood killed without any remorse now. This was such a change from the obedient, cowering boy he once knew. When his eyes opened, they immediately found the woman's body lying on the floor, her eyes now unseeing. Father was repulsed to see her ugly mouth still holding onto the last cackle her throat emitted. Sweeping his gaze, he found his son. The boy of nineteen had returned to his chair, picked up his book, and was immersed in his novel as if nothing had happened.
Father finally opened the doors. He strode over to his son, stepping over Bellatrix's lifeless body, and rested his shaking hand on the shoulder of the boy. His son did not move, only continued to read. Father looked out the window among the gardens that were shining under the light of the storm. Yet, he did not see the flowers being tossed back and forth by the merciless wind. He was lost in his thoughts about the son he raised whom was so lost among the ideals of the war and the sides of which he did not belong. He believed this entire time that he raised his son to the best of the abilities of a man whom the Dark Lord once adored.
Yet, Lucius knew he had been wrong in justifying the torturous ways Draco was raised. Lucius wanted to believe that Draco would come out of the war a better person, a person today's society would accept. But Lucius knew the truth, his son had been broken. This was the moment that he knew. Lucius created a monster.
"We'll find her," Lucius spoke out loud. His son didn't move.
Ahhhh. Chapter One is done! Review and let me know what you think!