Typical Night

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world, and with characters like these, why would I want to?

A/N: I have absolutely no idea what made me write this and it went a bit funny in the middle but here's a short bitter story for you.

His hand strikes me again and I don't even flinch, I haven't for a long time now. When he first started I would flinch and cry and scream but he'd carry on until I was barely conscious and could hardly let out a whimper. Magic would cover the cuts and bruises but the emotional scarring, that never left. He beats me again and again until I give in. The cruel twisted smile on his face is enough for me to know what's going to happen and I obligingly lie down. As I lie on my back on the bed I can feel his hands, cold and hard, begin to undress me. The buttons on my blouse come undone with no resistance from me and his hands work fast as he rips it from me. The only thing covering my upper torso is my bra and that's soon off too. His hands move to my skirt and he pulls it off, tossing it aside like a piece of rubbish. He doesn't even bother taking the time to take my underwear off; he just rips them from me, leaving me naked, waiting for what's to come.

Wearily I make the effort to lift my head. I watch as he discards his own clothes and then moves closer to me, a sneer across his face.

"You've put on weight, Narcissa," he informs me coldly. "You better lose it, no wife of mine will be fat, how could you be shared then?"

I nod wearily, silently urging him to hurry up and get this over with. As if hearing my thoughts he spreads my legs and I feel him enter with the same harshness he always uses. As he thrusts, I allow my mind to wander to a time that seems centuries ago but isn't really that long ago.

It wasn't always like this. He used to be lovely and so gentle it would send shivers through me. He didn't smile often but when he did it was always around me, as though it was reserved for me. It was a true smile, more a grin, stretching widely across his, truly meeting his eyes. In private he would be soft and caring, showering me with tiny kisses and touching me in ways that I long for now. Then came the rise of his "master". A Death Eater in nature already, Lucius became one in name too, that's when he changed. He became a cold, vicious, sneering, violent wretch and I despised him. I still do. I could never leave him though, I'd never be able to escape, and he's too powerful.

I can feel him filling me and I fake a groan as I always do. Our son was conceived on a night on this.

Lucius came back from a particularly bloody night out. Ten muggle-borns and their families had been murdered by my husband and their friends and my husband was grinning like he was proud of it. Now, I don't like muggle-borns but I would never kill one, for my husband though, it was a nightly occurrence. Anyway, still on a high from his "success" he returned home to find me hastily putting on a dressing gown after coming out of the shower. Believing it was a less-than-innocent act he decided to teach me a lesson in exactly the same way as now telling me that unless I had his consent he was the only one I could be with. Nine months later Draco arrived.

Immediately Lucius began putting his stupid ideas in Draco's head. If I hadn't been around to undo the damage I can only imagine how bad he would be. Worse than his father, that's for sure. The night Voldemort was defeated Lucius came home and decided to take his anger out on our one-year-old son. I walked in to find him shaking the baby like a rag doll. That was the first, and only, night I hit Lucius back. Every day since I've endured the same ritual: beatings followed by…can you even call this sex? I'm not forcing him off but he's hardly welcome and he's doing all the work. Still, it keeps him away from Draco so I don't complain.

Finally I feel him lifting himself off me and I hold back the relieved sigh that threatens to escape. He stands up and hurls my clothes at me.

"You're not to eat for a week; that pot belly made for a highly unenjoyable time. Now, get dressed, the sight of you is making me sick."

Aww, shame, I think sarcastically but hold my tongue as I begin redressing. "Yes, Lucius."

He carefully puts his own clothes on and walks out, leaving me on the bed watching him. Before he leaves he turns and looks at me. I see his smile and for the first time in a long time I see the same genuine smile he had all those years when we first got together but then he speaks. "The master wants you tomorrow, make sure you've healed yourself." Then his face turns colds again and he storms away, his cloak swishing behind him.

I hold back the tears until I hear his footsteps die away.