Author Note: Second Chapter of 'And I fall...' Have fun!
Draco wanted to race from his room again, though he wished not to come back. Ever. "Today is the day you receive the Dark Mark." The thought ran through his mind again and again, and he felt his stomach sink from the bottom of his stomach. He knew he'd be in for the heaviest beating of his life if he denied his father this... But should he wait until Voldemort came to place the mark upon him, he knew well that he would be killed, if not worse.
Lucius gave one of his rare smiles; the thought of anyone joining himself and the Death Eaters already made him happy, but the thought of his son becoming one of the 'chosen ones?' Oh, if a happier thought existed for Lucius Malfoy it was only that Voldemort would let he himself take over as the Dark Lord. "So then, Draco, come quickly. The fact that the Dark Lord has waited as long as he has for you should be an honor in itself. No doubt it's because of my superiority as a Death Eater, but-"
"I'm not going," Draco interrupted plainly, knocking the smug smile off his father's face.
Lucius' eyes narrowed, and pulled his wand out from his robe pocket once more. "You will go." He threatened Draco with a small flip of his wand, and then nodded toward the door. "Go."
"I refuse." Draco's voice grew in strength each time he spoke, as did the defiance in voice. His hand slipped into his pocket, and his fingers wrapped tightly around his wand, though he did not dare to pull it out.
"You will go. Now."
"No."
Draco whipped out his wand as he saw his Lucius eye his own. He pointed it at his father, defying him once more in every action he made. "You don't wish to start this, do you, Draco? You know I could easily make you go with an Imperius curse. Or I could just as well kill you with a Death Curse." He smiled slightly at the thought of using an Unforgivable Curse.
"Yes, you could, Father. But you wouldn't. Either of the Unforgivable Curses would make this event so much less glorifying for you. If you were forced to use the Imperius Curse to make me join the Death Eaters, oh my, what would the Dark Lord and the other Death Eaters think of you then? And if I were so defiant and rigid in my decision not to join you in your "quest to purify" the wizarding world that you had to kill me, what would that do to the family reputation?"
"Ah, yes, my son, that's quite true..." Lucius watched the smug look of victory come over Draco's face. "But you see, they all know quite well of that little act you pulled this morning. And I know quite well of another Unforgivable Curse that could easily be considered punishment for that." He now watched as his smile faded, though Draco never once showed fear of any kind. "And I warn you, should you choose not to go after this, the spell grows only worse when cast more than once... Cruciatus!"
With a strength in his voice that Draco had heard only when hearing his father cast the Death Curse onto a minion of Voldemort's who had failed the Dark Lord or betrayed him in any way, Lucius cast the torturous spell onto his own son. Draco flew back against the wall again, though with much more force than he had when his father punched him. He felt his entire body cringe; he could feel his bones cracking through his damp skin, he felt himself banging into the cold, hard wall again and again, and his head pounded as though it had been the Death Curse placed on him and not just a torturing spell.
Draco's mind shattered into a million pieces, he lost whatever he had of comprehensible thought in the sheer pain he felt as ligaments tore within his body, and his own father merely stood nearby and smiled, smiled as though the tone were light and beautiful within the room. But then, perhaps in the mind of Lucius Malfoy, the sounds of screaming, bones cracking, and skin tearing were beautiful, and were the only true sounds of happiness.
The blonde squirmed, though he could hardly be considered blonde at this point as his hair turned a deep shade of carmine from the pool of blood it lay in. He thrashed his arms in every direction, splashing the blood into his face, and he swallowed it unconsciously. The metallic taste mixed with the saliva in his mouth, and he choked on it, and spat it out as his back bent forward and backward in odd positions. Draco cried out, screaming for what little life was left inside of him.
He prayed then, prayed that something would stop the pain. Prayed that it would just stop, that the curse would just end right there of its own accord. Prayed that his father would put a stop to it, that he'd help him then, and support him like he'd always wanted. Prayed he would die, die and fall into an endless pit of darkness where he could fall for eternity without having to believe in anything, and more importantly, where he wouldn't have to feel anything.
Draco's vision grew hazy, and he could feel his mind spinning as the pain kept pounding and the blood kept pouring, pouring out of holes in his skin. Holes that occurred not only from the Cruciatus curse, but, as Draco could vaguely see through his steadily blurring vision, from the tip of his own father's wand. Piercing rays of light shot out from the dark tip of the wand, breaking through the skin, and Draco felt every one of them.
And Draco cried.
And Lucius laughed.
Draco awoke, finding himself in his room, his body bent into a highly unnatural position. He tried to move his arm in an attempt to push himself up into a sitting position on the floor, but his arm felt weak, and he slid back down unto the cool surface of the wooden floor. His skin felt sticky, and when he looked down at himself to see as to why, he found his arms and legs covered in a red liquid. Covered in blood.
And the memories flooded back to him.
The pain, the screaming, the crying... and the cruel laughter that Draco felt would never cease. His mind ran the blurred images through his mind again and again, and he watched as his father pointed his wand in his face, watched the blood pour from his wounds as Lucius created more and more, watched his own father laughing in a way that he had never seen his father act before. In a way that was... joyful.
Draco choked back a sob: he had already disgraced himself once today as he remembered the flood of tears that had left him while he writhed in pain. He tried again to lift himself, but fell to the ground again as his arms gave in beneath him.
"Pitiful, that's what you are," a cold voice whispered, from somewhere behind him. "You've lost whatever little bit of strength you had in you before the curse... and you were only hit with it once. Even Harry Potter can do better than that." Draco heard a shuffling of robes behind him, and then several echoing footsteps as his father approached him from behind. "You truly disgrace me, Draco."
Draco turned to his head to face Lucius, though his neck tightened in pain every long second it moved. He looked around himself, and spotted his wand only a few inches away from his outstretched hand, and moved it down slightly to grab it in an effort of self-defense.
Still, Lucius stepped on the dark, wooden wand, and rolled it back several feet with a flick of his boot. "You dare attempt to defy me again? You been hit, you've been cursed, yet still you beg for more? You... you fool..." Lucius stepped closer to his son, his tall form towering over the crushed boy.
Lucius bent down, and for a moment, Draco thought he looked... fatherly... His eyes widened, and his brows fell into a soft curve. Even his lips softened into a faint smile, and he stretched out his hand. "Draco..."
Draco was at a loss for words. He'd never once seen his father act like this, he'd never seen him even take the time to look at him when he was down. But here he was, his hand outstretched, and softly saying his name... Draco lightly placed his hand into his father's.
"There now, boy, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Lucius' voice remained oddly soft for its usual sharpness, and his facial features followed a similar pattern.
The man pulled slightly onto Draco's hand, and for the first time in what seemed like his entire life, Draco thought he was feeling love. But just as quickly as he had lent down to give Draco his hand and pull him up, he was pushing him hard against the wall. Lucius' feigned smile fell back into its normal smug sneer as Draco's head smashed into the wall again with a loud thud.
Draco slid back, his head bursting with pain once more as he watched his father move towards him, and he wondered why he had been so stupid as to trust the man that had attacked and tortured him all these years. He watched him approach as his vision grew hazy again, watched him as he straddled his aching legs, watched as he ran a hand up and down his thigh. Draco tilted his head back in breathed a sigh of sheer and utter pain and remembrance.
The tall man taunted the young boy, pulling on his pajama top and forcing his hands into it. He then slid both his hands up over his chest and around Draco's neck, his long fingernails drawing blood at the sides. His smooth, pale hands then pushed their way up from the base of his smooth, black top, and caressed his son's stomach...
Author Note: I feel so bad torturing my Draco like this... But heck, it definately makes for some kick-butt stress relief! ^^;; Yeah, that's about as specific I'm gonna get if I do another scene like that last one... When it comes to violence, I can't make any promises though... If anything changes on sexual content though, I'll make sure I make a note of it in later chapters, but I wouldn't expect anything to change. Well then, please review, and I should have the next chapter posted soon!