Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my pens AND my screwed up head.
Disclaim her: I got ditched. No, saying that would be rude. I will put it in better terms. I was deserted. (sniff)
Note: I have decided I don't need a Beta until I establish myself more firmly and have more of my writing on here, for people to decide if I'm a suitable writer.
Author who offered, thank you, I will consider it.
Draco's acting OOC (obviously), along with Lucius, Harry and others.
"speech" 'thoughts' /Draco's thoughts/
Thanks to all reviewers! (I actually believed that no one would want to read this thing)
Misura: Thank you, I didn't think you would want to write anything. Do you like plushies?
Redfern You write excellently. At least I asked, even if you can't be my Beta…Your story just keeps getting better and better. I'm on your favorite authors? That's so nice!
Gadguard: One thing, (besides the fact that I think I spelled your name wrong, sorry, I can't check right now) I know who you are, moogle. If this isn't who I think it is, I apologize.
And to all my other reviewers: thank you for having the kindness to read over my story and tell me what you think along with those above. I appreciate it, really.
A/N: I took that other piece of junk story down, if anyone noticed.
Chapter 3: All forms of pain aren't so new.
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When Lucius and Draco arrived at the manor the rain had started to come down even harder, which was quite unusual, for it was about the beginning of summer. When they had set down their coats, both nearly soaked, Draco suddenly sneezed very loudly.
Eyes widening, he looked at his father, who usually would reprimand him on his lack of manners, he found the older Malfoy rummaging through his robes apparently unconcerned. As he was just about to walk out of the hall to go change and take a bath Lucius finally realized he was leaving.
"Draco," he began.
"Sorry father, excuse me," The younger Malfoy replied quickly.
"Excuse you for what? I was just about to tell you that after you have finished changing, I would like to see you in my study if you please." He was still searching for something distractedly and now turned to his coat to start looking through it.
Draco watched Malfoy senior continue to search for a couple of minutes, wondering why he was standing there like an idiot watching his father like he was, till Lucius threw down his coat and abruptly cursed, frustrated. He almost stalked off up the stairs until he suddenly remembered Draco standing in the doorway of the hall. "What are you still doing here, I don't want you ill, go upstairs immediately and remove those wet clothes before I drag you up there myself Draco." Lucius waited until the boy came out of his stupor and started to slowly make his way up the stairs, much to his father's dismay.
"Honestly." Lucius went down and grabbed his son by the forearm and yanked him up the stairs with the boy protesting most of the way until he was silenced with a sharp look. When they reached the top of the staircase Lucius let go. "Now, I want you in my study in twenty minutes, no later, are we understood?" A nod. "Good, now go." Draco walked off toward the direction of his chambers rubbing the arm that probably develop a bruise later on in the day.
About ten minutes later after Draco had removed himself from his rooms and had begun to make his way towards his father's chambers; the floor lurched precariously beneath him. He stopped, leaning into the wall as the surroundings almost slid out of focus for a moment. His father had been right once again. He had gotten ill for being wet and for staying in wet clothes for so long. Great. Damn him over and over again! He couldn't say anything; he wouldn't give the older Malfoy the satisfaction he wanted. He had to deal with it till it passed.
When the background decided to grace itself into becoming clear, he started off again and made it to his father's office about twenty minutes later, having stopped nearly three times when he came close to collapsing. The double doors of the office were closed and Draco couldn't imagine what would happen now. His father had said twenty; thirty had gone by.
He knocked softly on the door. There was a faint "come in" and Draco stepped inside the room, careful to keep his eyes on the ground, mainly because it was the only thing he was able to concentrate on right this second, although it looked like he was ashamed of himself from Lucius' view.
"Sit." The voice was dangerously soft.
"Yes sir." His eyes glanced up and everything swirled in a mass of colors around him but he managed to find the chair that was placed in the front of his father's desk. Sitting down, he once again averted his eyes elsewhere, someplace he could look at without becoming dizzy. It was somewhere past what he supposed was his father's left shoulder because above it was a blurry mass of white and a darker white that apparently was Lucius' face and hair.
"Draco," A slight pause.
"Yes?" He replied meekly.
"Did I not ask you to come to me twenty minutes ago?" Draco couldn't even distinguish the older Malfoy's face.
"You did father." The world spun around and around.
"Why were you not here when I asked you to be?" Lucius had gotten up and sat on the edge of the front of his desk. "I'd like answer, I don't have all day."
"I, I lost track of time. I'm really sorry, father, I mean it. You know I wouldn't disrespect you." His voice trembled.
"Do I now? There were other times when you happened to show me impudence-" 'That you all punished me for,' Draco added silently. "-That I felt I did not give you sufficient enough punishment for in the end."
'Sufficient enough! What is he talking about! One time I had welts on my back that lasted for an entire month!'
"So I have decided to make up for that right now." Lucius' voice remained casual, almost as if he had been commenting on the weather.
"WHAT!" A distant part of him wondered how the conversation had gotten to this, just a distant part.
"Don't take that kind of tone with me Draco. It's…disrespectful." The voice went dangerously soft as Lucius gripped his son's chin with a hand. "Look at me." Draco couldn't focus, but tried the best he could as his mind started to think things that it really shouldn't have been thinking at this point or at any other time.
"Now then," Lucius smiled something Draco couldn't see but knew he was doing. "I believe it's time to move along. Put your hands on the desk and lean into it." Vision clearing briefly he did what he was told without question, he didn't want to be punished more than he already was going to at this point.
Behind him, Draco heard a crack, and for a split second wondered what it was till he felt the sharp pain on his back. Again a remote thought, where had his shirt gone…?
"Draco, I would like you to count for me so I don't forget along the way what number we're on. All right?" he said this almost in a kind way except what was happening really wasn't kind and had absolutely nothing to do with compassion.
"Okay." The voice wavered but inwardly Draco giggled; father thought this was going to hurt him but this would be fun. So...much…fun! "One." He stifled the urge to break out in laughter.
CRACK! "Two." CRACK! "Three." It didn't hurt anymore; inwardly Draco had tuned out and heard a voice, his voice singing inside his head. '…Father and son went up the stairs so they could kill the mother. The son fell down with bam, to face the wrath of his father's hand. Father just laughed and said, now look, you missed the slaughtering of mother …' Draco's attention returned momentarily while he continued to count. "Sixteen." CRACK!
Again thoughts wandered. 'You're worthless. You can't do anything yourself. Your father always has to do everything for you. He doesn't care about you or anything that has any relation to you. He wouldn't care if you died on the spot.' /No, that's not true! He cares! I'm not worthless/ 'Why does he hate you then? Hating you for being born, for living. Hating you for being such a failure to him just like your mother.' That malicious voice asked. 'Why is he hurting you right now? Oh, I see, it is because refuse needs to be dealt with, does it not?' /He does not hate me! And I am not garbage/ 'That's what we all like to think, don't we? You would rather hear lies than hear the truth, because in reality, the truth just tears you apart inside, does it not. Knowing you're nothing to your father who wishes you were dead, or better yet, never been born...' /Shut up/ Draco screamed inside, as all those thoughts and feelings that he had locked away resurfaced. 'And the one thing you won't admit-' /No, don't say it/ '-Is that,' /Stop, I can't hear you/ '-Your father-' /STOP/ '-Has never lovedyou and never will.'
Everything froze. Draco was unaware that his father had stopped whipping him nearly ten minutes ago and was watching him stand there while he was having this fight with himself. He went down onto the ground and instinctively slid forward so he was leaning into the desk. Draco had started to feel a dull throbbing pain in his back but it was pushed back, away, so he could try to clear his head but without any success. Blood had soaked his trousers as it continued to run down his back but that did not have an effect on him; he was still leaning against the desk and staring blankly ahead. Lucius bent down to gaze at his son and found it impossible to make eye contact as Draco was staring directly past him.
"Draco."
He blinked but could not find the strength to look at his father, why oh why did this have to be so hard? A soft murmur from Lucius caused the wounds on his back to heal up. He didn't care, yet…?
"Please look at me, Draco."
A whisper so quiet Lucius almost did not hear it. "…Why?" Tears pricked at the corners of the younger boy's eyes. No, I will not cry! 'Why not Draco? Just prove to your father that you're everything he thinks you are.' That nasty voice in his head told him. …When you cry they know that you're weak, Draco said to himself just as he had told himself so many times before. A few tears fell even though he had tried his hardest to contain them. How the office swirled in a lovely collection of colors.
"Just for the simple reason that I want you to."
"…Are you going to hurt me again? Please don't, I …" His voice cracked.
"No, I do not believe I will. I had lost my temper over something else and took it out on you, which I really shouldn't have done…" A hand went over Draco's back almost in a caressing motion, but the younger Malfoy was sure he was just imagining things. Lucius pulled him against his chest, and Draco unconsciously rested his head in the curve of his father's neck and the hand went further up, stroking the pale blond locks of hair that now reached somewhat past his shoulders, and Draco caught himself falling asleep with his father's touch.
"Father…what are you…?"He asked confusedly.
"Hm? Oh, you're falling asleep. What time is it…nearly four? Now why would you be so tired?" Lucius asked in a voice that sounded concerned but Draco chalked it up to his imagination running off without him.
"Just…a bit overexerted, I think sir." He replied softly.
"So you say." Lucius raised a hand to feel Draco's forehead.
"…Father, I'm…" whispered Draco.
"Draco, you're burning up! I told you- Draco?" He glanced down.
"….sorry…for everything…"Grey eyes slid shut.
The world twists out of control and the boy slips over the edge to fall and fall and fall deep down into the abyss…
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A.O.T.I.F.: The thoughts part is confusing. Draco's arguing with himself, that's why there are two sets of defined thoughts: Draco's and the other part of his mind.
Blank: That last part, figure of speech.
