A/N: Two in a week? My god! What luck! Enjoy. Review, please, your reviews to me are like gasoline in an SUV.
I'm seven again, and in the bath, splashing and blowing bubbles with the soap suds. I think I'm old enough for baths alone now, but Uncle insists on keeping me safe, so he watches me. Reaching under the suds, he unplugs the bath stop, and something brushes my thigh, and more besides. The same way it does every night Uncle babysits.
Draco looked at his mother, peacefully relaxing in the warm water, and almost considered joining her. He thought of her in the days before the birth of her youngest son, of the powerful and cold woman she'd been, persuasive and manipulative as anything and beautiful as well. Even nine months pregnant with Marquis she exuded an air of beauty and power that could make a strong-willed man quiver. Draco searched hopefully in the woman before him for a sign of any of that once radiant command, and found none. How had such a strong will cowered to that of a mere child?
The door opened with a crash, snapping Narcissa from her reverie and causing her to whip around, splashing Draco with lukewarm water in the process.
"Hello, Mummy." Marquis stood at the door, hands clasped neatly behind his back, dressed in a tiny black suit. He looked rather like an undertaker, Draco thought.
"You fuck off." Draco spat, his love for his mother and his hatred of his little brother completely trumping his common sense and survival skills.

"Ah. ah, ah." The young child said, his voice high and clear. "What will Uncle say?"

I don't give a damn what Uncle thinks right now, thought Draco.

Yes, you do. Snape's voice echoed in his mind, filling him with cold dread.
He saw Marquis' thin lips curl in a smile, and knew that he, too, had heard Snape's words.

"Looks like you've another obligation, Draco." The child lisped, still smiling like a perfect, macabre porcelain doll. "I'll take over here."

"Thanks, really, but I've got her." Draco waved his wand and his mother's dripping gown no longer clung immodestly to her, the water siphoned away by magic.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" The child shrieked, pointing his tiny wand at his own mother and sending her flying into the air. Draco was left speechless as he watched his mother float gently above their heads, like some sort of thick cloud with white hair trailing down.

"Come along, Mummy." Marquis said, and with a flick of his wand, he levitated Narcissa out the door and down the hallway, singing a quiet song to himself, almost a Muggle tune, Draco thought, listening carefully. His stomach turned to stone as he realized how wrong he was, and how twisted that child had become.

"Narcissa Black, Black, Black,

All driven mad, mad, mad,

By pain and blood, blood, blood,

By hate and love, love, love,

She cannot speak, speak, speak,

She cannot cry, cry, cry,

And so she waits, waits, waits,
She waits to die, die, die."

Draco turned and threw up onto the floor, sickened by his own flesh and blood. Never had he met such a twisted being that was still wholly human. Even He could take tips from Marquis, Draco thought, thinking a recant up quickly in case his mind was being monitored. As it happened, it was.

"You think He could learn from my child?" Snape's voice coursed into his ear canal like oil from a well.

"I think maybe you went too far, Snape."

"That's Professor Snape."

"Who are you kidding? Hogwarts School is dead! Dumbledore, thank Voldemort, is dead! And you continue to call yourself Professor."

"I'm simply asking for the respect that is due me. That's not too much, is it?" Snape's voice dripped with honey and Draco felt himself beginning to blush.

"No, Uncle." He said, gritting his teeth as he replied.

"Say it like you mean it."

"Sorry, Uncle."

"That's better."

Hermione breathed heavily, trying to ignore the searing pain coursing through her veins, and the scarlet fluid leaving her body at an alarming rate.

"Whew." Said Bellatrix, lying next to her victim, her breathing also fast and heavy. "Looks like you've got a problem there." Bellatrix sat up slowly and gestured to the place between Hermione's legs.

"Please..."

"Not now darling, I'm exhausted." Bellatrix drawled, lying back and lacing her bloody fingers together over her stomach.

"Please, help me!" Hermione cried, making a noise somewhat like a young kitten as she watched the blood tumble from her. She attributed this painful wound to the bottle that had been forced into her, and now lay coated in blood and viscous fluid on the stone floor, discarded.

"Why me?" Hermione asked, really addressing the ceiling of stars more than anyone within the room.

"You'll know soon enough." Bellatrix sighed, sitting up.

"You're disgusting." She said, waving her wand over Hermione's pool of blood and, like Lucius, stopping the bleeding, but leaving the wounds open.

"Can I trust you not to run away?"

"Y-yes." Hermione said, her voice catching.

"Of course. You're just stupid enough to try to bolt."

Bellatrix threw a full Body-Bind curse onto Hermione and levitated the girl beside her as she walked--really, floated--through the room and out the door, like a child with some twisted carnival balloon.

"Time for a shower."