I own none of these characters, thank you JK Rowling for inventing them!
The Love For My Son is Like No Other.
The love for my son is like no other. Only that of fear for him. He is the one the dark lord has chosen, I would've died for Draco if it meant he would not be the one to do the deed. He is but a mere boy of 17, not very muscular, not particularly good at his magic, just like his father. But he is mine, and I love him.
Lucius thinks it an honour; the mere fact that Draco wakes in a cold sweat each night, screaming, clinging and grasping at me when I'm by his side. He cries for hours, his breath short and his face paler than usual. Lucius fears the dark lord over the honour of his family, it makes me sick, and I care for him no longer.
As we sit at the table in Lord Voldemorts castle, I tend not to listen to the evil deeds to be pursued. Across the way Severus is seated, intent on the dark lords words. He has become thinner, his eyes more sunken into the hollowed sockets. The poor man looks cold and defeated, but he still is dutifully here, where he is needed. Draco sits beside him, not once blinking, Severus' hand on his shoulder. An overwhelming sense engulfs me; I have not been able to get Severus from my mind since he made the unbreakable vow. He wanted to protect Draco, he took my hand and swore on it. His gentle fingers clasped around my wrist, his magic flowing through me like a river does to the sea. He is icy in his temper, short with his words, but none the less kind and caring. Seeing him with Draco, so fatherly and protective, makes me want to make love to him until the small hours of the night. To sit astride him, feel his strong hands tugging at my hips – So rough but gentle. I want his body to be full once more, see his smirk that rarely shows on his lips, his face screw up as he releases himself into me. To feel loved, and be loved, to make love and be together as one; it comes in short supply as a death eater. We have to cling to what we have and what he can feel, otherwise everything disappears: My love and devotion for Lucius, the respect and care for myself, the loyalty to my blood sister Bellatrix, the trust in anyone...
Except Severus. He has remained. He flashes glances at me, nodding. I nod back, knowing he is asking if I am ok; He knows how cruel and selfish Lucius can be. After the formal sit down, everyone is for drinks. Severus pulls me into a darkened alcove, away from the others, and kisses my neck furiously but tenderly. I let my head loll to one side, allowing him bare skin to suckle on. He supports my neck with his right hand, his left caressing my bosom lovingly as if I had been his for years. He brings my head to face his; his nose upon mine, forehead to the other, both hands now cupping my angular jaw. I kiss him fervently, needing to feel something other than the worry and pain and guilt that has been rotting my soul for years. He places a large thigh between my legs, gently rubbing the warmth that has grown from within me. His long fingers drop down my rib cage, by stomach, my waist, and finally to my centre, where I gasp and rock, his face still upon mine. He removes himself almost instantly, kissing me quickly on my swollen lips, and leaves at a pace. I adjust everything: My hair, my robes, by lips, my demeanour and mind. I join the crowd at Lucius' side, Draco to my right. Severus is nowhere to be seen, but I have a feeling as to where he might be.
I do wonder sometimes, how it could be to fight on the other side.
A/N: Something different, I guess...