A/N: This is not a tragedy. Sorry, if that ruins it for some, but I hate tragedys, and I'd never write one. And I have wanted to read this too (Miyako Suou) ever since the 7th book. And since I couldn't find it anywhere, I decided to write it!! :D
btw guys, This might be a prequel. I dunno. I thought it was definitely going to be, but then I thought definitely not, and then today I've been flip-flopping. I'm just not sure? If there is a sequel (or whatever you call it) to this then there will be D/H slash. Just thought you ought to know.
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CHAPTER TWO: I Don't Want to Be Like My Father
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I sighed. This was what we were reduced to.
None of us touched the food, though all probably for different reasons. After a while the lights dimmed and we were left sitting there in the near dark, none of us sleeping, although I was extremely tired.
Our silence continued through the next two days. Yes, two days. We were each lost in our own thoughts, memories, and we rarely moved from our bench. It was only after hours and hours of the quiet did I start to find it oppressive.
"Can we talk?" My voice came out hoarse. "About anything." My parents flinched a bit, remnants of the Dark Lord's cruelty in the past year, but my Mother, at least, was nodding.
"We should make the most out of the time we have."
It was strange, in a way. My Mother hadn't been this … soft … in years. But then this last year had changed all that. We were only barely accepted back with the Dark Lord. Voldemort, I should get used to saying now, although I'd be lying if I said just the thought of him doesn't make me flinch. It's been a hard year. To say the least.
And I've had lots of time to think. Lots and lots of time. So much that I came to somewhat dread life in general. Don't I sound suicidal?
When I was with Death Eaters, our only company at Malfoy Manor, I was mocked or occasionally tortured. When I wan't with them I was thinking, painful thoughts that I just wanted to shake out of my head. And when I wasn't awake I was dreaming; nightmares.
I didn't stay at school all the time. In fact I think I was only there for about three months in total. Which gave me more time. Joy.
The one year I longed for homework was the one year that we didn't get very much. I was owled my assignments but there weren't very many. So I took to memorizing my text books, to escape my thoughts. I felt like Granger. It was disgusting.
I didn't like to think about the future too much - it always seemed too bleak - instead preferring, if not by much, to dwell on the past. I thought about my childhood, trying to reach as far back into my memory as possible. I thought about Hogwarts. I tried to picture every single person I knew and then recall every time we'd talked. This was only once I'd gotten mind numbingly bored, mind you. And memorized nearly every single word of my text books.
I hadn't bothered with people that I'd talked to all the time, which left out lots of Slytherins, unfortunately, but for some reason I included Potter, Weasel and Granger. The bloody Golden Trio. Maybe I was just that bored. Or maybe I just wanted to remember exactly how riled up I could get them.
It was hilarious, really. I don't know why they cared if I insulted them or their families. I mean, it's me. Malfoy. Death Eater. I'd never thought they would care, until the first time just got such a reaction that I couldn't help doing it again and again.
In the beginning I was just like a little boy pulling on a girls pigtails. But after a while things obviously escalated. Merlin, I tried to Crucio him. Potter. The Chosen One. The-Boy-Who-Lived. Golden-Boy, or Wonder-Kid, or whatever they call him now.
God, I hate that he has so many titles. Titles. It makes him sound like a Lord or something. Stupid arse.
But anyway, I tried to Crucio their great hero. After he caught me crying. And then he almost killed me. With Dark Magic.
Yup, that was a strange day.
I know he didn't mean to because he looked so pathetically stunned when I collapsed at his feet, but for Merlin's sake, he still Sectumsempraed me. And of course he didn't get in trouble. Well not much anyway.
"What do you want to talk about honey?" Mother asked me and I hesitated.
"I- I wanted to know … you know … what happened to you during the Final Battle?" Great now I sound like Longbottom. What an unfortunate last name he has. It's almost made me pity him a few times.
"There's not really that much to tell," she said slowly. "We were with Him and the rest of His followers. Not fighting, of course, for we didn't have any wands, but trying to get him to let us go find you." I winced, knowing that wouldn't have gone over well.
"After a while, I was fairly certain that he'd killed Severus," she sighed and I frowned. That had been a startling discovery. I almost hadn't believed Potter during his final duel thing with … Voldemort. And there was also the small relavation that Snape was a spy because he'd fallen in love with a mudblood. Yeah that was a bit of a shock, not going to lie.
"Then what?" I asked eagerly, nearly overjoyed that our brooding silence was gone. Well nearly gone - my eyes flicked to my Father. Mother didn't notice as she continued.
"Then we had to wait with him in the Forest as we all waited for Harry to show up"
Harry?
"It was horrible, Draco," she sighed and I frowned. "We didn't know where you were, or if you were alive even, or if you'd been captured or-" she rushed out and my forehead smoothed. I could deal with worry better than the Cruciatus, even if I had caused it in the first place.
"It's alright," I wrapped an arm around her and she threw hers around me, squeezing me until I was rather uncomfortable.
"Well by that time I was nearly out of my mind with worry for you, I had no idea if you were alive or…" she gulped and I was once again struck by the changes in her. It was as though I'd gone back in time.
Of course the transition was not such a rapid one that it was just made last night. It's been happening for most of this year I think. She, and my Father too actually, were caring less and less about the Dark Arts and their place with the Dark Lord, and more about me. It was quite a pleasing feeling actually, no matter how hard I tried to deny it.
"And then he came," she shook her head. "Just as his hour was up. I was afraid … Voldemort … would go on a killing spree if Harry hadn't shown up when he did."
"That poor boy," she shook her head and I glowered. Of course Perfect Potter would get sympathy even from my Mother.
"He willingly walked to his death," she continued, as though he was some sort of bloody saint. "You should have seen him Draco, he didn't even seem overly scared."
Then he's insane. I've known it for years. The mad arsehole.
"Just walked to his death because he knew he was a Horcrux…"
"What is a Horcrux?" I asked, finally interested.
"It's deadly Dark Magic Draco, don't ever make one," my Father cut in, finally snapping out of his little trance and I stared at him. Well this was new.
"You split a piece of your soul off from the rest, incasing it in something else. Usually an inanimate object but in the case of Potter and Nagini, a living entity." Part of me was digesting this while the rest marvelled that Lucius's voice wasn't hoarse after days of not talking. Lucky bloody Death Eater.
"So then how the bloody hell did Potter and his groupies find and destroy them?" I spat, disgusted for a moment at Voldemort. How could he have let himself be brought down by children? Well not children, really, because if I label Potter as a child then I'm calling myself one too. And nobody who went through the Final Battle could ever really be labeled as young anymore.
"Everybody just stood there for a moment," Mother continued, "and then … Voldemort," she cringed, "cast an Avada Kedavra on Harry-"
"Wait so he actually died?" I interrupted. I confess, I completely thought Potter was either exaggerating or lying. It would be just like him.
"And both of them fell down," she continued, as though I'd never spoken. "It was only for a second. I don't know if they actually died or not. It doesn't seem likely," she frowned, "for them to die and then just wake up again, but with them I suppose anything is possible."
With them. As though they're on the same level. Like they had the same degree of skills.
"And then only Voldemort sat up again. He seemed a bit … flustered I suppose you could call it," she puzzled and I actually snorted. Flustered's just not a word you would connect to the Dark Lord.
"So he Crucio'd Harry a few times but he only flew up into the air, nothing else seemed to happen. And then," she took a breath, "He told me to go see if Harry was alive." At this Father turned to her, eyes filled with understanding. It was, quite understandably I think, rather annoying. Ohh…right!
"So?" I raised my eyebrows, thankful that they didn't think to reprimand me.
"So I went over to check on him and obviously he wasn't dead but I asked him if you were alive, Draco, and when he said yes, I lied to the … to Voldemort …and told him that he was indeed dead," she finished as though saving the Chosen One was the most natural thing in the world. Her words reminded me that Potter had saved my own life twice that night though so I didn't comment.
"And you know the rest really. You were there when Harry did his disappearing act right?"
"Yes," I frowned, thinking back to the Invisibility Cloak. If only I'd known…
"So what were you doing then?" she nudged my knee and I sighed. I really didn't want to talk about Potter saving my life.
"I was in my dorm when someone pressed their mark. So me, Crabbe and Goyle put on disillusionment charms and were heading outside when all the professors started barricading the school and setting off all sorts of traps and enchantments so we couldn't get out." It wasn't a lie. Although I did omit the part about dragging my feel all the way up to the Entrance Hall.
"Everybody was being summoned to the Great Hall so we followed. There was a big to-do about …Voldemort," I blinked, "wanting Potter and Pansy was idiotic enough to suggest we all grab him. After that, McGonagall said that the Slytherin house was to be 'evacuated.'" I sneered. We were the least likely of all to be hurt. "But Crabbe, Goyle and I hadn't taken off our Disillusionment charms to we followed Potter as he ran off." Here I stopped; sighed. This was embarrassing.
"We caught up to him as he was talking to Thing One and Thing Two. They were carrying these huge curved fangs. We didn't hear everything but Potter was harping on about a diadem, and how it was in the Room of Requirement. I'm pretty sure it was Voldemorts," I blinked. It really was taking such force of will to say his name.
Somebody should give me a medal.
"So we followed him in there and tried to bring Potter to Him," I sighed gustily. "It didn't go well." Understatement of the century. Right before "wow, the Cruciatus Curse stings, huh?"
"What happened?" My Mother was frowning but it was quite obviously in concern. I could probably say that I'd fucked Harry Potter and she'd just ask me if I was hurt.
Ahh! Horribly disgusting mental images! Oh, gross, that's just sick.
"Draco, what happened?" Mother leaned forward, her frown deepening.
"What? Nothing! Never!" I stressed frantically and watched confusion settle into her eyes.
"Have they started making time-released Confounds charms now?" Father lifted a sardonic brow.
"Well yes actually, not that I was hit by one," I replied absently, still trying to rid myself of the utterly disturbing images.
"It's not a new trick. Every spell can be time-released except for the Killing Curse, by adding a simple extension to the Latin and saying precisely how much time you want to pass before the curse activating. In Latin as well, of course, which is partially why not very many people know about it or use it. Or it could be because the Ministry labled it as Dark Magic back in the 30's," I shrugged, finally able to tune out my own thoughts.
"And yet Granger still beat you on every single exam," Father shook his head and I scowled. That was still a sore spot.
"Weren't you wallowing in self-pity?" I snapped.
"Stop it," Mother begged. One look at her distressed posture had me looking down in unaccustomed shame.
"For Merlin's sake, we don't have that much time left with each other," she sighed. "Draco. What happened when you followed Harry into the Room of Requirement?"
"Right," I sighed. "Well we cornered him and everything was going fine. Then Crabbe thought it would be a good idea to start toppling shelves onto Weasel instead of just Imperiusing Potter into saying that nothing was wrong. Although back in Fifth he could throw the curse off completely," I added thoughtfully. "Thanks to Crouch Jr." Disgust.
I never really did understand that whole scenario. Why did he help Potter? Stupid ass.
I'm not bitter. I'm really not. I don't care that I can't throw off the curse. Doesn't matter to me. Honest.
It's not my fault anyway. Father taught me to follow orders. All the time. Because if I was going to work for the Dark Lord, I couldn't question it every time he told me to do something, right?
And he probably wanted to be able to get me to shut up.
I wonder what it's like to look down at your little baby boy and start preparing for when he would join Voldemort? Knowing that you would be sentencing him to a life of ... what? Power? Is that what was running through his mind?
Did he ever think of the amount of times he'd been Crucioed, when looking down at my peaceful, sleeping face? Or maybe he only thought of that when I was crying. My newfound pity for my Father faded. Sometime I just couldn't get over things. I was a Malfoy, after all. We know how to carry grudges.
"So then the groupies come running and Crabbe starts firing off Avada's and trying to Crucio Potter. The Bright-White Trio's fighting back and then Crabbe decides it could be helpful to start some Fiendfyre," I shook my head bitterly. If he hadn't done that, I probably wouldn't be here right now. We wouldn't be here right now. In a good way.
I'd be sitting at home, in big, spacious Malfoy Manor, instead of dark, cramped Ministry Holding room. It lessened the sting of his death somewhat.
"And obviously, he has no idea how to stop it," I sneered. "Goyle had been Stunned, so I grabbed him and was dragging him to the door, but honestly, the bloke weighs nearly 200 pounds," I said, exasperated all over again. "And so we're surrounded by the Fyre when Potter comes and tries to haul both me and Goyle onto some broom he'd found."
"What?" Father looked a mixture of incredulous and disgusted, though at what I'm not entirely sure. Wait for it, Father. The story's not nearly over.
"Why?"
Who knows Mother. Who really knows how that mind works. It had Voldemort in it often enough, after all. We shouldn't be so quick to assume that he's sane. Actually, Potter being mad would definitely make sense. More than him being sane. No normal person makes it their life goal to defeat the evilest and most powerful wizard ever. It's simply not done.
"Goyle's too heavy so Weasel comes and gets him and we're all flying for the exit when Potter stops to grab a tiara," I frowned.
I don't know what was up there. I'm not even sure if I want to.
Visions of Potter wearing the awful crown-thing and singing Dancing Queen into his hairbrush filled my mind.
'We barely made it out alive. Crabbe didn't. Neither did your wand." I couldn't tell if Mother was still upset by this - the sad gleam seemed permanently fixed in her eyes.
"We ran," I shrugged. It wasn't cowardly, not really. Just good sense. We'd just tried to capture Potter and were basically wandless, as Goyle didn't count. Stupefy was still pretty tricky for him.
"Then there was a ... an encounter with Loony Lovegood, which I'd rather not repeat out loud. It's not terribly important and I'm not entirely sure if it was a hallucination or not," I admitted.
"I had the ... pleasure ... of going to school with her father," Lucius's gaze shifted to the past, his tone of voice indicating that it was anything but.
"He was rather..." Mother faltered.
"Yeah," I grimaced. Nothing more needed to be said.
"So then," I sighed, tired of my tale. We'd been talking for well over an hour now. "Some Death Eater - probably a newbie," I added darkly, "was about to either curse me or kill me, who knows, when Potter Stunned him." The last was said in a sigh. It seemed I was doing lots of that these days.
"So then what did he do to you?"
"Nothing," I shrugged lamely. "Weasel punched me in the face?" I offered as Father seemed unable to process what I was saying.
"Hmm..." Mother mused, a small frown creasing her face. Each of them looked rather baffled in this turn of events. It wasn't such a good look for Lucius. He reminded me of Lockheart. Uuugh, Lockheart. I don't know how exactly the bastard lost his memory, but I'd like to thank whoever did it to him.
"So you now owe Harry Potter two life debts." It was said with a most disbelieving air.
Yup, that about sums it up. Believe me, I'd rather not. Believe me.
"Lets not be excessive," I said instead. "One and a half. I don't know what the Death Eater would've done to me. And I always could've shown him my Mark. Really, Potter was just being greedy there. Probably aiming to squeeze another life debt from me. As if one isn't enough."
My speech was met with a chorus of the famous Malfoy eyebrow lift. I scowled and grabbed some water from our food tray. It's not like it mattered anyway. When would I get the chance to repay it? I'm going to Azkaban, after all. Not many chances to save a persons life in there. Or however you repaid a life debt, I wasn't really sure.
"Not a lot of interesting things happened after that. I was just ducking under curses, trying to stay alive until you two found me after Potters possum act."
"Possum act?"
"Playing dead." He nodded, but it was obvious that he didn't actually understand. But why would Lucius Malfoy read about animals? They were so far beneath him it was laughable.
With that thought in my head I took a closer look at him. He was lounging gracefully against the wall, sitting on the bench while Mother and I sat on the floor. His posture radiated ... something. I was too used to seeing him like this to be able to look at it from an outsiders point of view. But it made me think of a full-body smirk.
I thought of the things he'd done. The people he'd tortured. Killed. I hadn't even been able to kill one person. Torture, yes, but not kill. Did that make me better than him, or weaker? I couldn't tell anymore.
What was happening to me? Of course, it meant I was weaker. It meant that I ...
I don't know.
My ideals were falling away, and because of what? It was baffling. I couldn't understand it. There was almost no reason for this newfound ... stuff. I shook my head quickly but the thought still permeated into my consciousness.
I don't want to be like my Father.
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A/N: Thank you to kittenonabroomstick, who was extremely nice in her review, and Miyako Suou, who said exactly what I wanted someone to say. I know that you two were the only reviewers (lol) but they were such perfect reviews that it totally made up for it. Thanks!
And review some more? ^_^