Author's Note: This fic focuses on the violent and troubled childhood of my OC Alanna and the impact Lucius Malfoy had on her life. It does contain violence, and abuse, but really, what do you expect when your "mother" is Bellatrix Lestrange?

Age 5

"Cruico!" the woman with the disheveled hair shouted pointing her wand at the child on the floor. The child cried and screamed as once more, pain beyond words coursed through her tiny body. Why was she doing this again?

The child wrapped her arms around her legs, trying to make herself as small as possible if by doing so hoped to make herself disappear completely. She didn't like it when Mommy was mad at her.

"Bellatrix, enough", the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy was strong with command.

"Who are you to tell me when she's had enough?" the woman spat, looking at him with hateful eyes. "Little wench never learns"

"Yes Bellatrix, but if you kill her, she will be of no use to you nor the Dark Lord now will she?" Lucius asked raising an eyebrow as he studied his sister-in-law. He had never been one to care much for children, he barely had time for his own son, but there was something….. different about the helpless little girl Bellatrix had taken in.

"You're right" Bellatrix said after a moment of careful consideration. "Dobby, take the brat to the dungeons and lock her up. She'll not be running about the Manor tonight"

The dirty child on the floor did not raise her head to meet her mother's eyes as the tiny house elf shuffled forward and held out a hand to her. She was too scared of displeasing her again. The child only wiped the tears from her face as she took the offered hand and climbed slowly to her feet. She was still in considerable pain, her entire body hurt, and she was hungry. Her mother had forgotten to feed her again. She peeked out through her hair at the other people in the room, the blonde woman, her mother's sister, staring coldly at her. She didn't like her either, and wished her sister would grow tired of her and dispose of her. The little boy, no older than she, who was obviously the apple of his mother's eye, standing near the fire, a look of pity in his gray eyes. And finally the man of the house, watching her with indifferent gray eyes as she shuffled past him. She saw his hand twitch, and she involuntarily flinched, afraid he would strike her the way her mother did when she did not move fast enough.

It was late at night, that much the child could be certain of, for the light had gone out of her prison long ago. She sat against the wall, her hair tangled and uncombed, her clothes torn and bloody. She slept on the cold stone floor with little more than a rag for a blanket. When she heard the footsteps approaching, she flattened herself against the wall, wondering what she could have done wrong this time, and knowing she could never make herself small enough to escape the punishment that was surely waiting for her.

"Alanna?" the soft, hesitating voice of the man startled her. He was always careful not to speak about her, much less to her, and she was frightened. Tears began to run down her cheeks, and she let out a soft gasp before she could stop it. By the light of his wand, she saw the man's head turn in her direction and knew she had been spotted. As the man strode towards her, Alanna lowered her head and closed her eyes, waiting for the first blow to come. Had they finally decided to be done with her? Had they sent him to take care of her once and for all?

The last thing she expected was the sound of the man lowering himself to the ground beside her, so when it came, she instinctively tried to move away. When his hand came out to restrain her, she didn't fight it, but was curious when instead of digging his fingers into her arm the way Bellatrix did, he pulled her closer to him instead.

"My word child, look at you" he said softly, the tone of disapproval clear in his voice. The man reached a hand up slowly, and brushed it over her cheek gently, pushing back strands of dirty hair that were clinging to her tearstained face.

"You were a beautiful sight when we took you, and now look at you. What has she done to you?" his voice was soft, but the child did not answer, she was used to not speaking to adults. She knew what happened when you did. The man studied her for a few seconds before taking her chin in his hand and turning her to face him. "Have you eaten child?" he asked softly, his eyes searching hers. When the girl shook her head, he sighed, it was an annoyed sound.

"Dobby!" the man's voice was quiet, but the house elf appeared all the same, sinking into a low bow before them. "Bring down a tray of food, a large pitcher of water, an empty bowl and some towels. Be sure you're neither heard nor followed" The elf nodded and with a 'crack' disappeared again.

The child said nothing during the exchange, choosing instead to stare at the floor, watching as a spider spun its web in the corner. She hated spiders.

Within minutes, the house elf was back, carefully balancing a tray in its hands. It placed the tray on the floor in front of them before bowing low again and retreating back the way it had come.

The man reached out, poured some of the water into a glass which he handed to her. She drank it greedily, her throat was parched, she couldn't remember the last time her mother had remembered to give her anything. Her stomach growled loudly, and she heard the man beside her sigh softly. He seemed disappointed, but she didn't know what she could have done to cause it. As she drank the water, she watched with curious eyes as he poured more water into a bowl before touching it with his wand. The child set the now empty glass down before coughing slightly and thanking the man in a shaky voice.

"You're most welcome my dear" the man had replied, reaching out again to touch her face. He studied her for a moment more before he took one of the small towels, dipped it in the now luke warm water, and began using it to gently clean her face. The girl sat quietly, as the man slowly cleaned her face and arms, flinching as he occasionally touched one of the many bruises and cuts marring her skin.

"There" he said after several moments, the barest hints of a smile playing on the corners of his mouth. The man turned to the tray and took the soup dish and a spoon, handing them carefully to her. She took them and began to eat quickly, as though afraid he would snatch the bowl back from her. The man said nothing as she ate, waiting patiently for her to finish.

"Feel better?" he asked casually when she had finished eating. The child nodded, embarrassed at the mess she had made when she had spilled some of the soup. The man did not yell at her when he saw it, he did not strike her, he simply sighed again, the corner of his mouth pulling up once more.

"What am I going to do with you Alanna?" he asked softly studying her again reaching out and gathering her into his arms. "You're such a precious thing, and I have great plans for you my child"

Alanna yawned, and closed her eyes, leaning her head against his shoulder as he started rocking her slightly in his arms. This wasn't something she had ever experienced in her memory – she felt safe.