Title: Emotion
Author: Silver Night Child
Word count: 3932 words
Warnings: Character Death, Child abuse, reference to alcohol
Disclaimers: The characters and settings are direct result of JK Rowling, I own none of them. 'Emotionless' is a song from Good Charlotte, so it is not mine.

WIP: Nope
Beta: Thanks to:

Draco looked down at the letter he had been writing, it had been so long since he had heard from the man who he had called his father for his whole life. He was no longer there, he really didn't know where he was all he got was the letter from his father asking him to tell him about what was going on in the world. Never about what his son was up to, or how his wife was. Never anything like a real father, and in that moment Draco noticed for the first time that his father was not. Not that he had never been their in real life, but he was not a father. Not in the emotional meaning of the word.

Draco thought of his mother a moment, of the woman she used to be that she used to some all the time and now only scowled. Maybe she had turned bitter because she had finally realized that the man she loved never had loved her. Although Draco had the idea that his mother had always known, she just never let herself think about it. Now with the man out of her life she could understand nothing else but that he had never loved her.

Draco let out a breath as his leaned back in his chair and glanced over at the paper again. He was letting the ink dry on the paper as he thought. He didn't get what was going on at the moment, as far as he knew nothing had happened to his father's Lord. But something might have happened. Putting his head down on the desk, off to the side of the letter he thought about the man who had been his father.

"Lucius, where are you going?" His mother stood there her normal proud self, head held high in the pressed wizard robes. They were a dark green in color, but not a warm green; it was cold, just like the silver that was on the green and the necklace she was wearing. Everything about her seemed cold this morning.

"Out, does it matter?" His father's voice, smooth and colder than his mother's outlook at the moment. He come into sight, hair pulled back by a ribbon the can held in his black gloved hand. Black wizard robes fell about him.

"Yes, we need to get food Lucius and you are the only one who has access to the money," His mother pointed out. It was true his father didn't want his woman running off with the only male heir that he had to date. The best way to take care of that was to make sure that His woman could either make money or get to it.

"Later then." Was the only reply that came before the door shut and his mother slumped against the wall her eyes glaring at the door as if she had been pushed back by an unseen force.

"Mother?" Draco came out, ten years old he was beginning to understand what was going on as he looked up at his tall mother.

"Yes?"

"Does this mean we are not having lunch or dinner again?"

"Go play Draco I will have Dobby find something for you to eat today".

"Alright Mother".

Hey dad
I'm writing to you
Not to tell you
That I still hate you
Just to ask you
How you feel
And how we fell apart
How this fell apart

Pansy Parkinson paused for a moment as she looked out the window and winced as she heard the door slam down stairs and her drunken mother stumble up to her room and slam her own door. It sounded as if she had another fight with one of her boyfriends. Pansy sighed for a moment as she started down the stairs to the room where the fight had more than likely taken place in. She could smell the alcohol on the air before she even gotten to the room. She looked around at the mess that had been made and sighed.

Chairs had been over turns and there was glass on the floor no doubt from when her mother's newest boyfriend had thrown the bottle across the room and her mother had smashed the pictures of them on the ground. The chairs, Pansy was never sure how the chairs got thrown in the fight but there was always one or two that had been broken or where outside after these fights.

Pansy thought for a moment before she sat herself down feeling tears come to her eyes, she took deep breathes as if that was going to make everything go back to the way that it had been before. Before that is that her father walked out of the house. Before her mother had begun drinking herself to death; before all the abusive boyfriends had started coming home with her mother. Before the fights that left the house like this and Pansy in tears, having to clean it up because he mother would blame her in the morning for the mess.

"Daddy!" Pansy Yelled only five years old as she ran down the stairs hearing the door open at six just like it always did for her. Her father would come home from work by floo and then walk outside and close the door them open it. She would run down the stairs and he would pick her up and spin her around the room till she was giggling.

"Daddy?" Pansy had gotten to the bottom of the stairs but there was no one there, she looked over at the clock. She was wrong with the time; it was seven, almost time for her to go to bed. Why had her father been late and why was he not walking in the door like he always did. She blinked them smiled; her daddy must be playing a new game. She opened the door and looked around, but he was no longer there.

"He is gone Pansy so shut the fucking door" She looked over her shoulder at her mother who was leaning against the wall a bottle in her hand, tear stains on her check. Her voice was slurred, muffled almost as if there was something stopping her from talking right.

"What do you mean?" Pansy asked looking up at her mother. She didn't understand where would her father have gone if he was not home? "Did he go to the store or something? When will he be back?"

"He is not come back so shut the door," he mother barked and pansy looked over her shoulder for a moment tears on her checks as she shut the door. It felt like she was shutting more than just a door.

Pansy began to pick things up, the tears on her check the only thing that showed how much she was hurting.

Are you happy out there
In this great wide world
Do you think about your sons
Do you miss your little girl
When you lay your head down
How do you sleep at night
Do you even wonder if we're alright
If we're alright
We're alright

Blaise stopped for a moment rubbing a hand over the burse on his wrist, the bloody man had held him so hard that he had almost thought he was going to have to have the house evils mend it. The scowl that came over his face was slightly as he looked down the large staircase to the man at the bottom. His father yelling and screaming for Blaise's sister to get back here.

The small girl walked over to her father and was only on her feet a moment before his father's hand had smacked her, sending her sliding across the room and into a table where a vase fell and hit he leg sending a piece of glass into it. She let out a cry covering her head as the tall man walked over to her.

"You whore" the accusation rang throughout the main hallway in the house as the boot came up and smashed into the small girl's side. In all truth she was more than a small girl, she was seventeen years, older then her thirteen year old brother who was watching her get beat.

Her own cries rung as well as the deep voice of his father who was beating her to the ground. There was a snapping sound and a scream from bellow and Blaise was sure that his sister must have broken something. From the way she was holding her right hip that had been broken.

He only watched for a few more moments before his father turned murderous eyes on his son standing up on the top of the steps looking down at him with a scowl. Blaise felt the bottom drop out of his stomach as his father yelled up the stairs for him to come down. Blaise walked down, if not numbly, to the bottom where his father and his sister was. He glanced over for a moment at his sister and was shocked.

She had blood on her legs, small droplets on her clothes; blood splattered the walls in a nauseating patter of twists and turns. He looked up at his father for a moment, shocked to see the blood on him as well, small amounts on his face and clothes but there was still blood there. Blaise listen to his father and walked over to pull out a whip and bend over, just before the pain rippled through him.

"Hello," Blaise looked up at his older sister smiling up at her as if there could be nothing wrong in their life. At such a young age his father stayed away from him as if he had some type of illness that he might get if he was too close to the younger boy.

"Hello Blaise," his sister looked down at him a small smile on her tired face and Blaise wondered if father had kept her up again doing things for him like he sometimes did when mother was not home. Mother was very clumsy; she always would fall down the stairs and off something and get really hurt. So she might be at the hospital, but Blaise was never really sure where his mother might be.

"Where is father I made him a gift!" Blaise looked down at the small ball that he had charmed to glow, and he hadn't even needed a wand to make the charm work, but it had taken him a while to get it right. The small blue ball was shining off colors of green and silver, winking at anyone who looked at it.

"Blaise…," His older sister said her voice stalling slightly as she looked down at the small ball; "you should not have done that," she finished her voice pitched low as if someone might hear them. She looked around and went to talk the ball from the younger boy's hands. Just then the door to their right opened up and Blaise's father stood there looking down at his two children.

"What is going on?" the question rang throughout the hall as Blaise held up the small ball to his father. Telling him how he had made the ball for his beloved father and how he hoped his father would be proud.

Blaise was no longer smiling later though, the tears on his checks the only thing that showed something had changed between him and his father.

The days I spent
So cold, so hungry
Were full of hate
I was so angry
The scars run deep inside
This tattooed body
There's things I'll take
To my grave
But I'm ok
I'm ok

Vincent Crabbe hated his name; that might have been because his father had given him the name. Most likely the only time he had ever been with his son and not called him a 'stupid git' or something of the like. It was not that his father ever hit him. Crabbe's father was good that way, but he was never there, unless he was throwing insults at the teenage boy.

Hungry, Crabbe stood up and walked towards his door pausing for a moment as he looked out into the hallway. He knew that his father was home, although he was not sure where he might be. So Crabbe went to the kitchen as quietly as he could, which was about a quiet as a hyperactive ape. He peered around the door into the kitchen and saw no sign of his father, letting out a sigh he stepped into the kitchen heading right to the fridge.

As Crabbe at he thought about everything, why he hated his father more than anything, although that was easy he could have made a list. His father always called him names and made fun of him, the worse thing though is that Crabbe believed him. When he was called thick by the one man who he was meant to look up to it was a slap in the face harder than any.

So what if he was not smart, not like Draco, he was still smart as in he could hold up a plan. He also was good at charms, better then must in his class although he never really showed it in school. What would everyone say if he, Vincent Crabbe became smart over night? He knew there would be talk that he had used a charm or potion on himself. No, it would be better to stay stupid then it would be to become intelligent.

"Vincent?" Crabbe winced as he heard his mother's shrill voice calling for him. He looked down and picked up what he had been eating and walked to the door of the kitchen and looked up at the woman standing there.

"Yes?" He replied almost wincing, he did sound dim-witted his father was right. He always walked like an ape and he sounded as if he was less intelligent then one. He blinked up at his mother thinking about how stupid he looked, but his father's voice cut into his thoughts before his mother could say anything.

"Looking as dense as ever I see," the comment was from behind him and Crabbe swung around to face the man looking up at him. Crabbe didn't want to be faced with this man at the moment, after everything he had thought about he was madder than ever at his father. Although now he was unsure if this man would even be label as a father, it was not how Crabbe used to think his father would be.

Crabbe winced slightly as he looked over for a moment and then away. It was only a month after school had gotten out but he had wanted to do this before his father would come back from wherever. Not that he cared much but the needles poking in and out of his skin was starting to hurt.

He would put up with it though; he was going to get this done even if he had to be knocked out. The tattoo that he was getting was on his upper arm. It was a snake, twisting and turned around a black rose outlined in red. The leaves on the rose where a dark green to almost back and that had a silver tint to it. Of course he would have just charmed it one but the pain was slightly welcomed.

It stopped them mental pain in his head from screaming out and taking over any reasoning that he may have left in his head. Not that there was much anymore, or at lest that is what is father had told him. What did it matter in a few moments this would all be over, and he would have something to show. But Crabbe really didn't know what it was going to show.

It's been a long hard road without you by my side
Why weren't you there the nights that we cried
You broke my mother's heart
You broke your children for life
It's not ok, but we're alright
I remember the days you were a hero in my eyes
But those are just a long lost memory of mine
Now I'm writing just to let you know
I'm still alive
Yeah I'm still alive

But Sometimes I'll forgive
Yeah, and this time
I'll admit, that I miss you
Said I miss you

Voldemort paused for a moment looking into the fire his eyes narrowed so that the room almost seemed to blur around him before he lifted himself from the chair he was sitting in. Unfolding his body and standing up as he looked around. He only had the mind to thank his father for dying; after all he had gotten another body thanks to the fool.

He moved over to the window looking down out from the hiding place to the two foolish muggle girls. They were talking to two Death Eaters that had been down their looking out from something that was meant to arrive any moment from four new Death Eaters. He smirked slightly the curing of his thin lips making him look more fearsome then he might have looked.

From behind him their was a hissing noise, a group of them, as Nagini slithered her way into the room and let her body move around the chair and other objects that littered the floor. She looked around at some of the odder shaped items and then looked back up at her master and let out another string of hisses.

Voldemort replied to her his own hisses making no sense to anyone but his beloved pet and himself. Well anyone else who could do what they could do might be able to understand, but only might. He listened and this conversation between them went on for a while, until Voldemort went and sat himself down in the chair and looked back into the fire with Nagini at his feet.

Tom Riddle sat for a moment looking out the window of the home he was at, he scowled though watching the rain dance down the window baring him from being outside as much as steal bars would. He looked over his shoulder and watched the younger kids play with the stupid games that had been put out.

Play with those things, those things that the other children where playing with, some of them drooling over the toys as if they were food that they wanted. That they could never have, there was no way on this plant that he was going to play with that. He wanted to be back in school; after his first year there it seemed like this place was nothing to him. Although that Headmaster had said he would be able to stay there next summer and everyone after that.

But it was not now, and his damn father was to blame for that. The man had run like a scared kitten from a large dog that had been reality that the woman he loved had not been the same as him. He thought for a moment that his father might have stuck around if his mother had told him she was a cross-dresser, then again he would not have been here then to find out would he?

Tom turned and looked at the little boy who had been pulling on the end of his shirt and narrowed his eyes barking out a harass 'What' to the boy that made his eyes go wide and him shrink back from where he had been. He listen not caring about what the boy wanted, he was nothing but a littler version of his father. A kitten that would run from anything if it was bigger than him or would frighten him. He was less then he was, his father had shown him the truth about these muggles, they were weak. Now that he thought about it he should not even be around them.

Pushing up from the place by the window Tom Riddle walked out of the room he had been sitting in watching the wretched muggles play with their toys that were nothing like the wonders of the things he had found.

The books lay in his room hidden under his bed their titles gleaming in the dull light that was given off by the lamps. He would try the new spell tonight; after all they had not sent anything home to him about magic at home. Besides, what was the worse that would happen? That one muggle would die? It would do the world better.

It's been a long hard road without you by my side
Why weren't you there all the nights that we cried
You broke my mother's heart
You broke your children for life
It's not ok, but we're alright
I remember the days you were a hero in my eyes
But those are just a long lost memory of mine
Now I'm writing just to let you know
I'm still alive

Yeah I'm still alive

Harry Potter stopped for a moment looking up at the shapes before him; they were blurred as his glasses had fallen off a while ago. His heart was pounding deep within his chest the feeling of doom hung over him like a cloud. He looked up one, two, three; four of them standing there looked down at him with wands pointed at him. He looked up wondering if he would go this way. Even with everything that had been sad he still wondered if he could go like this.

Pushing himself to his knees he got to his feet and it seemed that he would be so slow in doing that simple act that he would have no chance against the four in front of him. For a moment Harry was ready to leave this world, but the idea of Ron and Hermione facing this was too much to bear. So he would fight until he died. He would take as many as he could with him, and if he took them all he would run. Run and live another day to fight….or something like that it had been meant to be word to the wise.

He felt as if he had his father and his mother with him, as if they had a hand on each shoulder and was glaring at the figures in front of him. He could tell that they were smirking at him front under their mask where they had hid their faces from the world. Cowards he thought the only one that led them was even slightly a man. He was strong and would kill any of them if he wanted to not that it matter much to him about their lives.

It was then that the door opened and a figure walked into the room and this time there was no mask. There was no reason for the new comer to hide his face form the world because it feared him. They all coward in the wake of his monster who was standing in front of him, He looked around the room for a moment and thought about how nice it would be to be with his father and mother. About seeing all the people he had lost so far.

It would only be a short struggle with a broken wand and his glasses missing. Harry Potter fell.

With that the past shaped the future, even if it all seemed emotionless.

And sometimes, I'll forgive
Yeah this time, I'll admit
That I miss you
Said I miss you
Hey dad