Sorry for the slow update. Today, I managed to scald the entire of my hand, leaving it blistered and raw. I had to go to A&E and everything- Stupid cooking ¬.¬ Sorry if this a bit slacky or short, but it really pains me to type, but I want another chapter out.

"I don't want it." Draco growled out, casting a more than displeased glance at the cage in the middle of the room.

"Don't be silly." Lucius snapped back, shoving it towards him, the black cat inside giving a disgruntled hiss. It flattened its ears to its head, yet remained still, its eyes flickering with a slight understanding.

"I really, really don't need it." Draco sighed, turning away. "If this is your way of being nice to me, father, please, go back to your cold self."

Lucius must of flinched, as Draco heard a chair tumble from behind him.

"Don't speak to me like that." Came a low voice, and Draco felt a sense of dread come over him; he knew that voice, it was the tone his father used before..

"Just take the cat, Draco."

With a disgruntled sigh, he grabbed the top of the cage and swung it around, looking in detail at the moggy inside.

It's fur was thin and looked very rough, its ribs sticking out worryingly at its sides. Down its left eye was a slightly lighter coloured patch, curling into an almost '7' shape. Its eyes were not yellow, as Draco had expected, but a dull green. But although their colour was not the brightest, there was a certain glint of intelligence there, giving the feline an almost wise look. It's paws were muddy, and coated in what Draco presumed was blood, and its jaw was slightly crooked, off place.

"What's her name?" He enquired, turning away from his new companion.

"He doesn't have one." Lucius told her, turning around to organise something on his desk. "That is your choice."

Draco thought for a moment, before mentally kicking himself. He didn't even want this animal, there was no reason to affectionately dub it with a name.

"Remind me, father, why you decided to give me a cat?"

"Can a father not give his son a gift without him wondering why?"

"Can a man really call himself father after all that he's done to his son?" He retorted instantly, feeling anger rise in his chest. But anger was replaced with dread, as she realised the words he had uttered.

Lucius turned around, pale in the face, narrowed eyes. He raised his hand, and Draco instantly bowed, knowing what was coming..

"Get. Out."

And Draco didn't need telling twice. Snatching the cat from the side, he dashed out, the pounding in his ears blocking out his fathers parting words.

"Teach him."

Draco didn't return to school as quickly as he wished.

His father had other plans; more.. violent plans.

Draco had become accustomed to the training he received every year, almost immune to what it it involved. He simply blocked it out, an action that was easily done. While his fathers voice was harsh and vicious against his ear, all he had to do was simply close his eyes, and remember..

Remember to when he was young, perhaps. To when he was free. To the first years of Hogwarts; his blissful innocence to what occurred at home. When he'd return home and simply believe the lies that his mother had fallen ill, or that he had to go to bed early because Father was meeting up with other good people, happy people.

As a child, he was blind to the beatings of his mother. As a child, he was blind to the meetings with Death Eaters just under his bedroom. The rape, the torture, the murder, the injustice.

All blind to it.

Part of him wished he could go back; and never know of it. He didn't care that it happened, he just wish he could ignore it, pretend it never happened.

But, of course, that was easier said that done. He was old enough know to understand that those screams were not Mother having fun; those wicked laughs were not in relation to games. That that liquid was not spilled wine. That they weren't other fathers, those were far from Fathers.

Part of him felt slightly respected, important, royal almost to be aware of such goings on. It was a tight group that his father held, and to be aloud to have a role in it.. it made him feel wanted; needed. A feeling that he had been long denied by every aspect of his life.

He didn't know what he was feeling.

He didn't know if he ever would.

"Aim for the throat, Draco! The throat!"

He did as he was told, moving his wand with appropriate flicks, watching with indifference as the birds throat suddenly constricted, and bulged up a invisible wire.

"Don't finish it- not yet.. the other one.. I showed you.. now.."

He frowned, straining his memory, before bringing his wand down in a quick flash, watching as the beak of the bird became disjointed, and began to slowly prise itself from its body.

"Now."

"Brutalis finem." He responded instantly, watching with a coldness as the binding seemed to grow as strong as it could, slicing clean through skin and bone, the beak falling back into position.

The smell of the blood was strong, but Draco was immune to it.

"Acceptable." His father told him. "Acceptable."

Draco wanted to shake his head, but he didn't speak.

"It is not your equal, son."

"But it has served me." He argued quietly, looking down at the house-elf. Draco barely remembered the names of the many little things they had in their house; their sheer numbers making it impossible to keep track of all of them.

"We have many more." Lucius waved his hand in dismissal. "It is simple, Draco. Just do it already."

Draco closed his eyes, his mind retracting itself from reality. It was all getting to much, he knew he couldn't do this.

His barriers came up, and he felt himself stare at the elf in front of him with cold, indifferent eyes.

"Brutalis finem." His voice was harsh, and loud this time. And he felt his own stomach twist.

It wasn't his fault, he wasn't in control any more. His mind had long succumbed to the comforting memory of riding his first broom-stick, the feeling of his mothers soft, warm hands slowly stroking his hand.

A cool laugh rang out, which Draco recognised as his own, and he retreated further away from the scene in front of him, trying to remember how his mother had smelt like soft peppermint and a sprinkle of firewhiskey, so perfect.

"You are progressing." Draco heard the voice near his ear, but he didn't react. He couldn't react. He didn't now where he was; but he was far away from the cold, immobile body of his.

He didn't feel like he was progressing.

"You'll remember to take care of your cat, won't you, Draco?" Lucius voice was almost a taunt as he glared at his son from the door frame.

"Yes, father." He responded swiftly, not taking his eyes off a rose in mid-bloom above their doorway, not trusting his temper.

"I mean it."

"I know you do."

"I will find out, if you don't."

Feel very confused to why his Father was obsession so much of an animal, he simply tutted. "How am I getting to Hogwarts?" He asked, casting a glance to see if their was anyone there ready to apparate him.

"Go to the edge of Maybury close." Lucius told him, moving to close the door. "You'll find your transport."

And without a word, he found the door slammed in his face.

With a groan, he dragged his trunk behind him, the unnamed cat following him closely, his eyes never leaving its new master.

Hermione.

"Why are you staring at me, 'Mione?"

Hermione shook her head, bringing herself from her trance.

"I'm not." She argued quietly, reaching forward to casually nibble on a bit of toast, trying to avoid her red-headed friends glance.

Ginny sighed, and turned her body so she was glaring at Hermione.

"Don't let what happened that night get to you."

"I'm not, Ginny." Hermione snapped, perhaps a little to harshly. "Listen, I have to go. I'm going to the library."

"Hermione.." Ginny pleaded, looking desperate, but Hermione paid no attention to her, simply tossing her bag over her shoulder, leaving her half-eaten bread on her plate.

She didn't bother to offer Harry and Ron a proper goodbye, and left her boys to bombard Ginny with questions to why she had left.

She didn't feel guilty, not really. Ginny had no right bringing that up. It was a personal matter, and she had every intention of never talking about the incident ever again. It felt like she was wearing her sexual innocence as heavy necklace around her throat, one that kept tightening every day.

"You look a bit rushed, Granger. Running off to a date with a book? You could of made yourself look nice.."

The taunting voice brought her back to reality, and she whipped around instantly, her hand feeling for her wand.

"Go away, Malfoy. I don't have time for you."

The blonde was leaning against one of the ancient pillars that stood in the hallway leading up to the library, his hair looking ruffled and almost unclean, his robes ruffled.

"I have time for you, Granger. And that's saying something." He almost purred, following her as she went to leave.

"Busy." She sighed at him, going to push open the library door with one hand, her other gripping her wand tight.

"Oh, so you can't slow your fat-ass down for more than two seconds?" He laughed harshly, leaning forward to grab her wrist and yank her around, towards him.

Draco.

She came closer than he expected, and he made to move back, but her breath caught him by surprise. It didn't smell minty as most girls did, but it was fresh, so fresh. It smelt like it was dabbed with all sorts of spices and herbs..

It was so pleasant, like a breath of fresh air, like the scent had held him to the ground. After spending a month locked in his manor with nothing but the stench of rotting flesh and dirt for company, he felt like he was waking up..

He shoved her back a little harshly, suddendly taken back by himself- This was Granger, A filthy, disgusting little Mudblood.

He didn't release her wrist, however, just tightened his grip on it.

"Got your attention now?" He teased, trying to keep his voice as hard and cold as possible, not letting the fact that her breath had basically drugged him up leak into his tone.

"Yeah, congratulations." She squirmed slightly, trying to escape his grip. "Now can I go?"

He sneered at her, looking her up and down in a disgusted manner.

And then he saw it.

The mark was small; and almost insignificant. But..

"What the hell is this?" He snarled, pointing his finger at the scar on her wrist.

She looked at it, then turned to glare at him. "Let go of me. It was an owl-bite."

"Clumsy little fuck, aren't you, Granger?"

She yanked her arm as hard as she could, and it slipped from his grip.

Draco took one last look at her, before turning his back, running his hand through his greasy hair with a grimace, suddenly wishing he'd washed it.

Taking one last look at Granger disappearing behind the library doors, he felt a slight brush against his legs, and he turned his gaze downwards.

His feline companion which he sourly detested was winding between his legs, meowing at him in an almost approving tone. It's eyes looked brighter than normal, and Draco expected that was because he had fed it scraps from the table, trying to make the animal look a bit less anorexic.

"You expect me to carry you?" He spat down at it, tearing his eyes away. "You have four legs, walk, you stupid animal."

Looking down at himself, he realised his clothes were filthy and hung all wrong from him. He felt slightly embarrassed and cringed.

He really wished he'd cleaned himself up.

He couldn't for the life of him work out why he had this sudden urge to be clean, but he didn't bother trying to squash it. Taking one more glare at the library doors, he set back to his Common Room, ducking his head, and kicking the cat a few times on his way.

I'm so sorry this is so short! :( I promise you, I'll make a super, super long chapter soon to make up for all of this!

I hope its okay, and I'll try my best to get my cooked hand back into typing condition.

As always, please review! I went through a few lonely days when no one reviewed last week, don't make me go through that again!

All the best.

Kali (minus one hand)

xxx