Interlude---3A
(AN: Okay, this chapter is the first of a few interludes that involve Draco's POV of his home life before he goes to Hogwarts for his seventh year. These chapters also include how Draco met Meg, the girl with the two sons from Chapter 2. But, be warned! This chapter, along with most of the Interlude chapters, contain issues of child abuse, which explains the rating. Don't like, skip over these chapters.you'll probably be able to figure out what's going on..)
*Flashback-June, the year before*
The muggy June air came through the countless windows in the Malfoy Manor, providing no relief from the bitter cold inside the house. The Malfoy Manor was one of the most respectable manors in wizarding London. However, the Manor itself was not warm and cheery, like so many of the others. It was built out of massive stone slabs, and very well constructed, but reminded anyone who saw it from a distance of a graveyard; impending doom of the person who dared to set foot in it.
In one of the many downstairs studies, a tall, imposing figure sat in a high-backed leather chair, while a short, fat man sat in a mahogany chair on the other side of the large antique desk.
"So do you think your son will be prepared to join us, Lucius?" Goyle asked.
Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, turned his empty wine glass between his fingers idly as he spoke.
"If I say he will be, he will be. I have told him to be prepared for it sometime this summer. I have informed the Dark Lord, and he is pleased. He will accept him personally," he drawled, and it was easy to see where Draco had gotten most of his looks from. If one was to look at Lucius and Draco side by side, one would think they were brothers; they looked exactly alike, except for the fact that Lucius, although very handsome indeed, had eyes that were cold and hard, and reminded you of pieces of blue ice. If it was true that the eyes were the window to the soul, Lucius Malfoy's was frozen over.
"You don't think---he has the idea--- to refuse?" Goyle hesitantly asked.
Lucius set the glass down and gave Goyle the impending death glare that Draco was so famous for at Hogwarts.
"He is too afraid not to refuse. His mother tries to keep him from what she calls the 'Dark Side' of magic, and she will have to be punished. I can use Narcissa to make Draco agree, but only if I must. He has this bond with his mother, and that must be broken." For a second, something flickered behind Lucius' icy blue eyes, but Goyle thought he must've imagined it, because they were back to ice again.
"Speaking of which, where is my darling son?" Lucius said, though the term of endearment were twisted into sarcasm.
"Lagos!" Lucius barked to one of the house elves standing nearby. The tiny house-elf stumbled forward.
"Y---yes, Master?" Lagos stuttered.
"Go find my son and bring him to me. Do not come back until you have found him."
Lagos hurried out of the room.
*~* Draco was sitting out in the courtyard by the western wall, his knees curled up to his chest as he stared out at the vast acres of land without really seeing them. He was, in his mind, devising a way for him and his mother to escape the Malfoy Manor and go live in West Hogsmede or someplace, so he could finish school and she could sit and not worry about Lucius ever beating her ever again. He could get a job after Hogwarts, but where? An Auror? Probably not. What if he ran into his father during an Auror raid? He wasn't sure he could fight him; hell, he couldn't even stand up to him *now*, let alone in a few years.
"Master Draco! Master Draco!"
Draco was startled out of his thoughts by Lagos, his father's personal house-elf.
"Master---Master Lucius is wanting to see you right away, Sir!" Lagos panted.
Draco stood, brushed the dirt off his robes, and reluctantly followed the three-foot tall servant into the dungeons.
His palms were sweating and his stomach was clamping up into knots as he entered his father's personal study. It was not as large as the Library, which had amassed a large amount of leather-bound books, most of them featuring the finer points of the Dark Arts; Lucius never believed in Muggle literature, believing it was all "fairy tales", and Draco had become bored with them very quickly when he was a small child.
He swallowed, and then walked fully into the room, the light from the fireplace reflected in his steely gray eyes. Only someone looking for it could see the hate in them as he approached his father.
"Ah, finally. Draco, I wish to discuss something with you," Lucius said, waving Goyle away and gesturing for Draco to sit in the spot that Goyle had just left. Draco sat, wondering what he did this time. His father hated him, and only asked for him if he wanted to punish Draco.
*Oh, God. It has to be my grades--Even though I was highest in Slyherin house, Granger's a lot smarter than I am.*
"Do you know what this is?" Lucius asked in a dangerously low voice as he held up a piece of parchment.
"No, father," Draco said truthfully, keeping his voice neutral.
"This is a grade report from your sixth year. You had the highest marks in Slytherin house, but not in the whole school. I demand to know why," Lucius said, his voice never changing.
* Here it comes.*
"Well, father.The---mudblood---Granger---"
Lucius stood. "Are you telling me that that damn mudblood filth beat you in exams for the fifth year in a row?"
"I---"
Lucius cut him off. "I don't want to hear excuses. Excuses are just falsehoods to cover the truth. I don't want to hear about any halfblood girls beating you in anything ever again."
"Father, It wasn't my fault---" Draco abruptly shut his mouth. Bad move. If there was one thing that Draco leaned very quickly as a child, it was not to contradict his father.
Lucius took his wand out of his pocket.
"Father, please---"
"Crucio."
Draco would've thought that he'd be used to this constant vicious cycle: the Crutaricus curse, then he would get down and start beating him by hand. Draco hoped to God that he wasn't angry enough to bring his mother into this; that would mean more bruises and cuts for Draco, as he would gladly take his mother's beating if he was still standing from his own.
The pain was back, with twice as much intensity as it usually was. Draco just braced himself and tried to ride the crashing steel waves of pain that went through his body.
The five minutes that Draco was under the curse felt like days. When his father let him off, Draco felt a few of the usual bruises start to form on his back and something that felt like water going down his arm.
He opened his eyes to see that it was not water, but blood flowing freely down his arm. At some point, he must've knocked his father's wine glass over and cut himself on it. He tried to stand and hoped that his father was getting tired of beating him so he could leave.
But to no avail. His father kicked him in the side, and Draco felt something crack under his father's steel-tipped boots.
"Get up, you pathetic excuse for a son. Get up and fight me like a man."
Draco pulled himself up to a sitting position again. "I won't fight you, father." He knew better. The last time he had tried to fight his father, he had ended up in the hospital.
His father struck him across the face. Draco spit out the river of blood from his mouth.
"You won't be a man? Well, at least you're not trying to be something you aren't for once. But you will get up. Imperio."
Draco felt all of his pain melt away and felt vaguely like he was floating. It was bliss. He relaxed, and heard a little voice in the back of his head say, *Just get up.*
He knew better than to fight it. He stood up.
.and instantly regretted it. His father struck him again.
"Is that all you have in you, Draco?" His father laughed, calmly conjuring up a handkerchief and cleaning Draco's blood off of his own knuckles.
"You are just a pathetic boy. Get out of my sight," Lucius said, and sat down in his leather chair again like nothing had happened. Draco didn't know where he found the strength, but picked himself up and stumbled out of the luxurious study.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
(AN: Okay, this chapter is the first of a few interludes that involve Draco's POV of his home life before he goes to Hogwarts for his seventh year. These chapters also include how Draco met Meg, the girl with the two sons from Chapter 2. But, be warned! This chapter, along with most of the Interlude chapters, contain issues of child abuse, which explains the rating. Don't like, skip over these chapters.you'll probably be able to figure out what's going on..)
*Flashback-June, the year before*
The muggy June air came through the countless windows in the Malfoy Manor, providing no relief from the bitter cold inside the house. The Malfoy Manor was one of the most respectable manors in wizarding London. However, the Manor itself was not warm and cheery, like so many of the others. It was built out of massive stone slabs, and very well constructed, but reminded anyone who saw it from a distance of a graveyard; impending doom of the person who dared to set foot in it.
In one of the many downstairs studies, a tall, imposing figure sat in a high-backed leather chair, while a short, fat man sat in a mahogany chair on the other side of the large antique desk.
"So do you think your son will be prepared to join us, Lucius?" Goyle asked.
Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father, turned his empty wine glass between his fingers idly as he spoke.
"If I say he will be, he will be. I have told him to be prepared for it sometime this summer. I have informed the Dark Lord, and he is pleased. He will accept him personally," he drawled, and it was easy to see where Draco had gotten most of his looks from. If one was to look at Lucius and Draco side by side, one would think they were brothers; they looked exactly alike, except for the fact that Lucius, although very handsome indeed, had eyes that were cold and hard, and reminded you of pieces of blue ice. If it was true that the eyes were the window to the soul, Lucius Malfoy's was frozen over.
"You don't think---he has the idea--- to refuse?" Goyle hesitantly asked.
Lucius set the glass down and gave Goyle the impending death glare that Draco was so famous for at Hogwarts.
"He is too afraid not to refuse. His mother tries to keep him from what she calls the 'Dark Side' of magic, and she will have to be punished. I can use Narcissa to make Draco agree, but only if I must. He has this bond with his mother, and that must be broken." For a second, something flickered behind Lucius' icy blue eyes, but Goyle thought he must've imagined it, because they were back to ice again.
"Speaking of which, where is my darling son?" Lucius said, though the term of endearment were twisted into sarcasm.
"Lagos!" Lucius barked to one of the house elves standing nearby. The tiny house-elf stumbled forward.
"Y---yes, Master?" Lagos stuttered.
"Go find my son and bring him to me. Do not come back until you have found him."
Lagos hurried out of the room.
*~* Draco was sitting out in the courtyard by the western wall, his knees curled up to his chest as he stared out at the vast acres of land without really seeing them. He was, in his mind, devising a way for him and his mother to escape the Malfoy Manor and go live in West Hogsmede or someplace, so he could finish school and she could sit and not worry about Lucius ever beating her ever again. He could get a job after Hogwarts, but where? An Auror? Probably not. What if he ran into his father during an Auror raid? He wasn't sure he could fight him; hell, he couldn't even stand up to him *now*, let alone in a few years.
"Master Draco! Master Draco!"
Draco was startled out of his thoughts by Lagos, his father's personal house-elf.
"Master---Master Lucius is wanting to see you right away, Sir!" Lagos panted.
Draco stood, brushed the dirt off his robes, and reluctantly followed the three-foot tall servant into the dungeons.
His palms were sweating and his stomach was clamping up into knots as he entered his father's personal study. It was not as large as the Library, which had amassed a large amount of leather-bound books, most of them featuring the finer points of the Dark Arts; Lucius never believed in Muggle literature, believing it was all "fairy tales", and Draco had become bored with them very quickly when he was a small child.
He swallowed, and then walked fully into the room, the light from the fireplace reflected in his steely gray eyes. Only someone looking for it could see the hate in them as he approached his father.
"Ah, finally. Draco, I wish to discuss something with you," Lucius said, waving Goyle away and gesturing for Draco to sit in the spot that Goyle had just left. Draco sat, wondering what he did this time. His father hated him, and only asked for him if he wanted to punish Draco.
*Oh, God. It has to be my grades--Even though I was highest in Slyherin house, Granger's a lot smarter than I am.*
"Do you know what this is?" Lucius asked in a dangerously low voice as he held up a piece of parchment.
"No, father," Draco said truthfully, keeping his voice neutral.
"This is a grade report from your sixth year. You had the highest marks in Slytherin house, but not in the whole school. I demand to know why," Lucius said, his voice never changing.
* Here it comes.*
"Well, father.The---mudblood---Granger---"
Lucius stood. "Are you telling me that that damn mudblood filth beat you in exams for the fifth year in a row?"
"I---"
Lucius cut him off. "I don't want to hear excuses. Excuses are just falsehoods to cover the truth. I don't want to hear about any halfblood girls beating you in anything ever again."
"Father, It wasn't my fault---" Draco abruptly shut his mouth. Bad move. If there was one thing that Draco leaned very quickly as a child, it was not to contradict his father.
Lucius took his wand out of his pocket.
"Father, please---"
"Crucio."
Draco would've thought that he'd be used to this constant vicious cycle: the Crutaricus curse, then he would get down and start beating him by hand. Draco hoped to God that he wasn't angry enough to bring his mother into this; that would mean more bruises and cuts for Draco, as he would gladly take his mother's beating if he was still standing from his own.
The pain was back, with twice as much intensity as it usually was. Draco just braced himself and tried to ride the crashing steel waves of pain that went through his body.
The five minutes that Draco was under the curse felt like days. When his father let him off, Draco felt a few of the usual bruises start to form on his back and something that felt like water going down his arm.
He opened his eyes to see that it was not water, but blood flowing freely down his arm. At some point, he must've knocked his father's wine glass over and cut himself on it. He tried to stand and hoped that his father was getting tired of beating him so he could leave.
But to no avail. His father kicked him in the side, and Draco felt something crack under his father's steel-tipped boots.
"Get up, you pathetic excuse for a son. Get up and fight me like a man."
Draco pulled himself up to a sitting position again. "I won't fight you, father." He knew better. The last time he had tried to fight his father, he had ended up in the hospital.
His father struck him across the face. Draco spit out the river of blood from his mouth.
"You won't be a man? Well, at least you're not trying to be something you aren't for once. But you will get up. Imperio."
Draco felt all of his pain melt away and felt vaguely like he was floating. It was bliss. He relaxed, and heard a little voice in the back of his head say, *Just get up.*
He knew better than to fight it. He stood up.
.and instantly regretted it. His father struck him again.
"Is that all you have in you, Draco?" His father laughed, calmly conjuring up a handkerchief and cleaning Draco's blood off of his own knuckles.
"You are just a pathetic boy. Get out of my sight," Lucius said, and sat down in his leather chair again like nothing had happened. Draco didn't know where he found the strength, but picked himself up and stumbled out of the luxurious study.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*