As much as I love the books, I regret to say that all of Harry Potter belongs to J K Rowling. This includes all of the characters except for Ryua (who's mine) most of the places, and an awful lot of the spells. Oh, and if you see something that looks like one of your stories, I'm really, really sorry. I don't mean to plagiarize. I've just read a lot of really cool fanfics, and they melt into my brain, but I'll try not to use any of it.
Growing Up
For a young pair of children, the Malfoy manor was quite a good place to grow up. With such a prestigious pureblood family, not to mention quite a few vaults at Gringotts, the twins had nearly all they could ask for. Toy racing brooms, pluffskeins, crups, and even a snidget in a matching golden cage decorated the nursery and bedrooms, and of course, all the best food, though their mother still forced them to eat nutritional food.
Of course, the playmates left a little to be desired. Vincent, Gregory, Millicent, and Pansy were the "proper playmates" for the twins, at least in their parents' eyes. What was it with adults, Ryua thought impatiently, that makes them name their children such bizarre things? At least me and Draco (Draco and I, her mother's voice echoed in her head) are named after dragons. Better than a stupid flower or an insane muggle painter.
And she hated them, all of them. Crabbe and Goyle, for their names were too complex for them to pronounce, were about as dense and stupid as a pair of rocks. The only thing they could do was follow orders, and the only orders they followed were her stuck-up brother's. Millicent and Pansy, one of whom Ryua was positive had troll blood and the other too ditzy to hold a conversation with, were the only girls she was allowed to see. Although how she was supposed to build a "proper etiquette and personality" hanging around with those useless girls, Ryua would never know. Once, Ryua had been poking around in the family library and found a magical family tree under a dusty shelf. She sat down in a corner and poked at it with her mother's spare wand to call up different branches. Sure enough, her name was there, written in gold script under a little picture of herself, connected to Draco, and her parents by a fine gold line. Most of the tree was made up of the usual, dark, sullen looking people, with a few darker squares. A second poke of her finger turned up the word "disowned" She noticed the most cheerful looking of her relatives resided in dark frames. Also, there were a whole group of people with brilliant red hair and freckles, all in dark the now familiar dark frames. There was even a boy her age and a girl just a bit younger, and they both looked to be actually interesting. Unfortunately, when she went to ask her father if she could invite them over for a visit, he didn't share her enthusiasm.
"Those people are disgraced wizards. They are not suitable for you to associate with." Lucius said, barely looking up from his letter.
"Well, why are they disgraced? What did they do?" Ryua asked, innocently.
"They are the type of wizard hardly better than mud...muggle-born wizards. They associate with lowlifes such as part human abominations and muggle- lovers. And instead of earning decent money like any other family, they are incapable of holding any kind wealth." Lucius was now sneering, obviously feeling superior.
"I don't get it. What's so bad with muggles? And what were you going to say, mud...?"
"Silence!" he snarled, "Muggles are an inferior race, too incompetent to handle magic, and therefore not worthy enough of our attention."
"But, these Weasleys, or whoever they are, they aren't muggles..."
"Did I not tell you to be silent? I will not say it again."
"But, what..."
"I said SILENCE! Obviously, you canNOT comprehend and follow simple instructions!" By now, even the young Ryua started to get a little of her high-born pride riled up. "You just said you wouldn't say 'silence' anymore!" Lucius was trembling with rage, his normally pale skin flushed a deep red. His voice, however, had a smooth, silky quality that somehow was more terrifying to Ryua that bellows, "I think you need to be taught to respect your elders. Chastisiae!"
Ryua stumbled back up to her room, half blinded by tears. Her father's punishment spell had hurt really bad, and her back was stinging under her dress. Up in her room, she twisted around to see her back in the mirror, and whimpered. She had three welts crossing her back, not quite to the bleeding point, but more than enough to scare a child of six. Ryua took a few shuddering breaths and tried to compose herself. Okay, okay, what would mommy do? Oh, it hurts... She made her way into her mother's dressing room and rummaged for her special kit in the bottom of the drawer. Sure enough, some muggle painkillers, magical no-infection gauze, and some other first aid-stuff. She grabbed the little bottle of Mrs. Hiver's cooler gel and went back to her room to find one of her summer tops and skirts. "Draco? Draco... I... need your help with something, please?" Ryua tentatively stepped into her twin's room, grasping the little bottle. Twist as she could, her back hurt to much to twist to reach it all, her mother was out to tea, as usual, and there was no way she would let her father touch her back.
"What is it?" came Draco's interested drawl. The two of them were always trying to best the other, and never showed weaknesses around each other.
Ryua swallowed. "Just... just put this on for me, will you?" she said quietly, turning around.
"Merlin's beard, Ryua, how...?"
"Never mind, Draco!" she snapped. "...I'm sorry, it just really stings." With unusual gentleness, Draco took the little bottle and started to apply the stuff on Ryua's back. "So, I guess you won't tell me, huh?"
Ryua sighed. "Well, I guess I owe you one, and I don't like that, so I'll tell you. I... it was Father. You know how stuffy and mean he is? Well, I guess I said one to many things, and he used some freaky hex on me... I can't believe I'm saying this, but don't you push him, Draco, I don't want even you to get stuff like that. I bet it's not his nastiest one, either."
He leaned over her shoulder, proffering the bottle. "You're really not making it up, are you? Well, I didn't think you could come up with a story that good anyway."
"Hah. Like you could do better. I mean it though, watch your step. If it's within your mental abilities of course."
