So this is the first chapter-sorry it took sooo long to update! Anyways, this is a little dark and violent so if ur squeamish about gore and stuff i wouldn't read it.
Well, here it is! Hope u enjoy:)
White light danced on the edge of my vision as dizzying pain overtook me. My body writhed in agony, my teeth digging into my lip, struggling to contain the bloodcurdling shriek coursing through me.
Fire surged through my veins, scorching my insides and licking the lining of my stomach. All I could hear was my ragged breaths and erotic heartbeat echoing in my ears. Please, please stop, I begged in my mind.
She didn't.
My nails clawed at the wooden floor underneath me as my limbs jerked of their own accord. Blood seeped out of the gashes and cuts on my cheek and across my stomach, staining the white carpet dark red.
Her maniacal laughter rang in my ears, jeering and nightmarish, and I felt as if my head was about to explode.
I was drowning in it. I couldn't breathe. My lungs felt compressed and no matter how many gasps I took I couldn't catch my breath.
I was dying. A slow, painful death, just as she promised. I wouldn't expect any less from her. She's not one for mercy, or love.
Then the pain subsided a bit. It didn't disappear, but it muted, as her wand released my body from the spell.
My vision was hazy, and I was suffocating in the smell of my own blood. It trickled down my hair, sticky and wet, leaving it a matted and ratty mess.
Then her face swam before my eyes, the only clear image in a world of blurriness. Her twisted grin, her creamy pale skin pulled taunt in malice and scorn. Her heavy lidded, brown eyes widened in excitement. Her black hair was frizzy and knotty. Her perfect nose, crinkled in contempt. Her face smeared with dirt and cold sweat.
She appeared wild. Insane.
She advanced upon me, until her face was inches from mine. I could feel her hot breath against my lips, and its rancid smell curled my toes.
"Tell me where he is," she demanded, for the fourth time this evening.
I mustered up enough strength for a small smile, "I can't tell you something I don't know."
Her breaths came faster against my face, as she became breathless with rage. "I'll give you one more chance to tell me the location of Harry Potter," she snarled. "Before I use the Cruciatius curse again. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be begging for death."
I shook my head, my voice barely a whisper, and replied, "Mother, I stopped begging you for mercy a long time ago."
She furiously jerked her face away from mine, whipping her wand through the air in expert form. Bright, red light burst from the tip of her wand and hit me squarely in the chest.
My body shattered as pure agony erupted in my chest. I convulsed and contorted against the rough wooden floor, as if thrashing could somehow stop the torment. My scream pierced the air, cutting though the musty manor like a sharp knife.
One thought kept drifting through my head, over and over again, as I was bombarded with all this pain.
Please let him survive. Please let him be the one. Let him be The Chosen One.
Let him be the Chosen One. . .
Then everything swirled into a dark pool of black.
. . .
I woke up with a start, my chest heaving and my face dripping with sweat. My eyes swept the room, searching for any sign of the wild, beast of a woman from my dreams.
There was nothing; just the dreary gray walls of Malfoy Manor. I took a deep breath and flopped back onto my bed. I had been having a lot of nightmares lately, but I couldn't decipher what any of them meant—if they meant anything.
I anxiously checked the clock floating above my nightstand. 1:00 am.
Well, it was officially my first day of Hogwarts! I would be rushing to catch the train later this morning, along with every other wizarding child between the ages of twelve and seventeen.
I couldn't wait. I was so excited to finally be able to use my magic, to develop my powers.
I could see it all now; me, stepping onto the train and being swept into the arms of a million friends, Draco, who was two years younger than me, looking on with envy, and Narcissa's and Lucius's proud smiles. . .
My happy fantasy was short-lived, however, as my thoughts abruptly circled back to the strange dream. The dream frightened me, more than I'd like to admit.
Why would my mother torture me? Or beg me for the location of Harry Potter?
My mother was currently locked in Azkaban, and she wasn't getting out any time soon.
And Harry Potter? The Boy Who Lived? I had heard lots about him; mainly from eavesdropping on Narcissa's and Lucius's whispered conversations in the kitchen.
Harry Potter was the boy who ruined it all. He had snatched my mother from me, and destroyed all that the Dark Lord had worked for. He had driven us into hiding. He was the reason the Dark Arts had almost ceased to exist.
He shattered everything I had held dear.
He had wrecked my life.
So why would I dream about dying for him?
Sooo, did ya like it? Please let me know!
Thanks:)
