Slytherin House

Winter Challenge

[Song Prompt] Chandelier - Sia

A/N: Thank you for beta-ing, Sofia!

oO0Oo

I'm just holding on for tonight...

Narcissa staggered into the master bedroom, bottles of Lucius's most potent liquors clasped tight to her body. Collapsing onto the bed, she lay there staring up at the ceiling, trying to forget what she had seen — and done — that night.

Party girls, don't get hurt,

Earlier that evening, she had been invited to go Muggle-Hunting. Thorfinn Rowle had leered down at her as he'd asked — no, insisted — that she join them, and she'd found herself in no position to refuse, especially when he had reminded her of just how precarious her position in the Malfoy Manor was, with Lucius disgraced and Draco a failure. So she had gone with him, and tried her best to ignore the atrocities she was committing.

Can't feel anything, when will I learn,

I push it down, push it down…

Shrieks suddenly echoed in her ears. Tossing the bottles aside, Narcissa hurriedly stripped off her black robes. When they lay puddled at her feet, she violently kicked them under the wardrobe and hurled the bone-white Death Eater's mask Thorfinn had given her as far away from her as she could; now that they were out of sight, she only had to wash the blood from her body, and then she could pretend that she hadn't been torturing and killing. She could pretend to forget.

She slipped into the marble bathtub, remembering just how many times she had returned to her rooms in those dark robes. Too many to count.

I'm the one "for a good time call",

Phone's blowin' up, they're ringin' my doorbell,

I feel the love, I feel the love...

For some reason, Antonin and Thorfinn enjoyed asking her to join them in Muggle-Hunting. They likely enjoyed seeing her trying desperately to cover her horror, and so they appeared at all hours, demanding her presence in their next raid. And she always accepted, always went along, for it was a matter of survival. She did what she had to do.

But this time, she found she felt a sense of camaraderie with Antonin and Thorfinn. But that couldn't be. She was nothing like them. Nothing at all.

Sun is up, I'm a mess

Gotta get out now, gotta run from this

Here comes the shame, here comes the shame

She slid shakily from the tub. After pulling her favorite bathrobe around her, she grabbed her wand and conjured a silver goblet. She had to forget. She didn't want to remember the Muggles screaming and writhing high, high in the air as she cast crucio after crucio… she needed something to brace her, something to help her maintain her exhausting facade as the Dark Lord's loyal follower.

Narcissa crossed the room and picked up the first bottle she came across. Then, sitting cross-legged on the dark-green bed, she poured herself a little to drink.

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink.

The dark wood furniture around her gave the room an imposing, claustrophobic feel. She was trapped, trapped in Malfoy Manor, trapped in her shame. But she could be free, if only temporarily. She gulped down the liquor, then refilled her cup.

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink.

The dark red liquid filled her cup, sparkling dully in the candlelight. It was so pretty, and it burned going down.

One, two, three, one, two, three, drink.

She downed cup after cup, willing the alcohol to cloud her mind. She didn't want to remember anymore. She wanted to forget. But she could never forget.

Throw 'em back, till I lose count.

It was like she was drinking water now, not wine; she was floating above her body, an impartial observer watching her hand always moving, either lifting the glass to her lips or refilling her cup. And then the bottle was empty.

I'm... gonna swing… from the chandelier… from the chandelier.

She couldn't live anymore, she couldn't survive any longer. She looked down at the long, smooth silk sheets beneath her legs, and wondered how it would feel to swing through empty air… but then another bottle caught her eye.

I'm… gonna live… like tomorrow doesn't exist… Like it doesn't exist.

She forced herself upright, and although she was completely drunk, she opened the next bottle. Perhaps she would regret this in the morning, but she wasn't thinking about tomorrow. Then, with the bottle in hand, she staggered to the window.

I'm… gonna fly… like a bird through the night, feel my tears as they dry.

If only she could fly freely. Malfoy Manor may have been a gilded cage, but it was a cage nonetheless; she was trapped with dangerous, deranged creatures. It was hopeless… or maybe not. She glanced back at the bed, at the silken sheets. One day, she would be free.

I'm… gonna swing… from the chandelier, from the chandelier.

But she couldn't, not yet. Not with Draco and Lucius. They would be punished for her weakness. She crumpled to the floor, the liquor sloshing over her bathrobe and dying it a deep dark red. That didn't matter, though. She stared up at the ceiling, the bottle by her side.

And I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down, won't open my eyes.

Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight.

She sat up, her vision blurred with tears. She didn't know why she was crying — was it the shame or the sorrow? — but she knew she couldn't keep living like she she did. She just couldn't. She held the bottle to her lips, gulping down as much as she could as she sobbed.

It was moments like these when alcohol was a curse, not a blessing. It was providing clarity when all she wanted was a fog in which to lose herself...

Help me, I'm holding on for dear life, won't look down, won't open my eyes.

She couldn't stand the person she was becoming. She couldn't bear her own reflection… but she had to stay strong. For Draco. For Lucius.

Keep my glass full until morning light, 'cause I'm just holding on for tonight.

She took another swallow. And another.

On for tonight.

And another.

On for tonight.

And another.

But she couldn't hold on forever. The bottle was empty, and with a shriek she hurled it from her, sending it crashing against the floor where it shattered, littering the floor with glass shards.

Narcissa shakily got to her feet. She staggered to the bed, then grabbing the sheets, then stumbled to the door. She couldn't, not any longer.

I'm… gonna swing… from the chandelier…. from the chandelier!