A/N (Frayed-Hope): EVERYBODY WHO REVIEWED- THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH! We both really appreciate it!! Do it again, and review for all of the future chapters! Thanks from us both!
A/N (RootbeerFloat): Hmm… I really don't have much to say. Sarah is SO the better author. – And I don't want to hear about the 'grammar and spelling mistakes.' I'm sorry, but that gets old after awhile, and if you start commenting on it I assume you're wanting your fifteen minutes of shout outs on us telling you to get a life. So please, as quoted in Bambi: If you can't say anything nice, don't say nothing at all.
NOTICE: This chapter has been revised and edited (only slightly for this one). An approximate 170 some words been added. So please feel free to reread the chapter!
The Summer of Forced Perfection-Chapter 2-
Draco sat eating breakfast on this fine morning. His face was serene as he flipped through the many pages of 'The Daily Prophet.' A few articles about criminals, bank robberies (all attempted) and the usual 'Dark Lord' question of 'has he returned?' Of course, the blundering fools didn't call the Dark Lord 'The Dark Lord,' they called him He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Draco scoffed at the idea and took a bite of his waffles. They were the only things that could calm him down after an episode like last night.
As he took a swig of his milk, he recalled the bone chilling cackle of laughter that had played in his ears. With a quick shrug of the head he pushed away the unhappy memories and checked his watch. It was nearly time for his father to come down, ranting about the Ministry and it's downfall. On schedule, Lucius Malfoy strutted down the stairs with another copy of 'The Daily Prophet.'
"I must say, Draco, this new article on House Elf Rights is rather… idiotic." Lucius said as he strolled in the kitchen. "Who on earth would support such a ludicrous idea?"
"I don't know, Father." Draco replied automatically. He took another sip of his milk and grasped that his father was staring at him with that oh-so-famous Malfoy smirk. "Yes?" He asked.
"Concealing charms holding up alright? – You're excessively set up on appearance." Lucius snapped his fingers and instantly a small house elf with big eyes apparated in the room.
"Would Master like something?" It asked, bowing in fear of Malfoy Senior.
"Some brandy and my cane, Hobbles." Lucius sneered, "I'm going out."
"When will you be back?" Draco asked as the house elf tottered off to fetch its master's belongings.
"Sometime tonight. We will have guests so make sure you clean up the house. And get those silly concealer charms off of yourself. Wear your true self with pride. The Dark Lord wont be pleased if he finds you made up as you are." Lucius tapped his foot impatiently. "Hobbles!"
"Hobbles is coming, Sir!" Hobbles shouted shrilly, carrying a black cane with a snake on the edge made out of gold and a small bottle of brandy. He handed them to Lucius with a bow, and Lucius struck the house elf down with his cane. "Hobbles deserved that…" Hobbles replied, trundling himself out of his master's way as he almost stepped on the poor creature. Lucius smirked and grabbed his coat off of a hanger.
"I expect that girlish magic off of you when I get back." He sneered as he shut the door to the Manor. Draco rolled his eyes and flipped through the many pages of the paper again. Nothing was interesting enough for him to actually read. He sat the paper down and took the last few bites of his waffles. "Hobbles, clean the kitchen up, will you?" He asked with a smirk and left the kitchen. "And I expect the house clean when Father returns!"
He put his hands in his pockets of his kakis and strolled down the west wing. Along the walls were images of Malfoys that had passed before him, all with their prominent smirks. Draco cursed his whole family for having that smirk he was famous for. It was something he prided himself on when he was younger, but now… now he just wanted to get away from it all. "Wonder what Crabbe and Goyle are doing…" He said to himself as he shuffled his feet. "Probably snogging the faces off their ugly girlfriends. Heh, if I even had a friend I'd be happy." He sighed and stopped at the picture of his father at the end of the hallway.
"Hello." The picture father said. "Is there something you want, Draco?"
"Yeah, my old life back." Draco whispered, and flipped the portrait off. The depiction in turn smirked and glared at Draco. Draco stuck out his tongue immaturely and strolled down to the corner of the hall and found the staircase he was looking for. It took him two hundred forty three steps for him to climb the staircase, but it was worth it. He reached the bathroom and took out his wand. "Father wants me to get rid of my perfect face… I don't think I like being a Death Eater so much now." He examined his strong chin a moment or two, setting the wand down on the counter. "What's the matter with wanting to look my best?" His steel gray eyes examined his pale face with interest. "I'll get rid of the charms later." He picked up his wand and left the lavatory. Down the hallway he found his room. He was just about to go in when a slam of the door from below him made him stop and listen.
"Draco!" Someone called from downstairs. "Come down stairs! Mommy has some tea and cookies for you!" Draco winced and cursed under his breath. He never enjoyed his mother's cooking. She managed to burn the bread and make the tea too strong.
"I'll… be down in a moment!" He shouted, and sighed. Tucking his wand away he slid down the banister and as he landed at the bottom of the stairs, he jumped off. His footsteps echoed through the house as he jogged into the living room. A high chandelier hung fifty feet above his head. "Yes, Mother?"
"Oh, come sit, Draco." She said, patting a seat next to her on the couch. "Your father won't be back for quite a while, so we should enjoy the silence."
"Yeah… the silence of me not screaming." Draco whispered.
"What was that, puppet?"
"Nothing." Draco shook his head and took a seat next to his mother. "Err… what kind of cookies are these?"
"Oh, chocolate chip." She smiled. "Don't tell your father, but I used a muggle recipe."
"Mother, you know how Father is with muggle things." Draco retorted.
"Yes, but…" She trailed off as the doorbell rang. "Oh, good! The Parkinsons are here!" She exclaimed.
"Mum!" Draco whispered. "No!"
"Oh, dear. You don't have to stay if you don't want to." She said, coating her words with guilt, "But I know it's rather rude to lock yourself in your room when your own classmate is here---"
"Goodbye, Mother." Draco kissed his Mom on the cheek and took off up the stairs again. He didn't want the hassle of staring at Pansy with a blank expression for hours while his Mother and Pansy's Mum talked about Tea Cozies and Death Eaters. When he arrived at his room he locked it with as many locking charms as he could think of and lied down on the bed. His head throbbed with pain and memories while he closed his eyes and started to whistle. "God damn it, I want a normal life." He whispered. "Why can't I have REAL friends?" He covered his face with a pillow and screamed into it. He hated his life with a passion, but didn't have the courage to end it. Maybe something, he thought, would happen to give his life more meaning. "What's the point in being a minion to---" He screamed out in pain as his Dark Mark started to throb. "Great. He's near too. Father must be arriving home early."
With the pillow still lying on his face he began to imagine a place that would be perfect. Somewhere out of this mess. Somewhere that could save him from this unpleasant place called 'Draco Malfoy's Life.' In the few short months that he had become a Death Eater, he had been beaten, struck, and cursed by the Dark Lord. It had become a normal routine. Wake up, eat some waffles, think about life, and get the shit knocked out of him. Yawning, he rolled on his side and drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Draco woke up not to the sound of cheerful laughter or a 'wake up' call. No, it was something much worse. The chilling feeling he got over his body when his Father arrived back home. "Draco! Get down here, boy!" Lucius called from the bottom of the staircase. Draco groaned and sat up. He rubbed his eyes a bit and licked his dry lips. "NOW!"
"Coming!" Draco shouted, then whispered, "You lug." He shook his head a little more to remove the sluggish feeling, and then wished for the exhausted sensation to come back as his head throbbed with pain. He jumped up off the bed, tottered about from losing his balance, and removed the locking charms off his door. With a deep breath he ran down stairs and brushed away a few stray locks of blonde hair from the front of his face. When he arrived downstairs, many hooded figures raised their heads up in recognition. Draco straightened his backbone, pushed his shoulders back, and marched in with his head held high.
"Good evening, Draco…" A hissed voice spoke in the center of the Death Eaters. "Have a nice nap?" All around many snickers and chuckles were taken notice of.
"Yes, My Lord – actually I was---" Draco started.
"Silence!" The voice demanded. "All my loyal followers are free to go tonight… except the Malfoys. – This meeting has been adjourned." The hooded figures silently left in a line out of the living room. Draco gulped and stood, waiting for his commands. "Lucius… did you do as I asked you? To beat some manners into this boy?"
Lucius stepped forward. "Yes my Lord. Twice as much as you asked me to."
"Then why are there no verifications of this?" The Dark Lord asked, his head hooded and hidden under black cloth. Draco felt as if a Dementor was in the room with him, draining every ounce of happiness out of his tall, six foot one, body.
"I assure you, My Lord, Draco must have a decent explanation for this." Lucius said in a rush, shooting a glare Draco's way.
"I put a concealer charm on myself." Draco said, taking a step forward. "I was ashamed."
"Ashamed of your training?" The Dark Lord asked. "You do realize this is to make you stronger, Draco. To make you powerful. No emotions. Only confidence."
"Yes, My Lord." Draco nodded, a bead of sweat dripping off his brow.
"Then you must also realize that this deserves punishment for being ashamed of whom you are?"
"Yes, My Lord." Draco replied.
"Then step forward, Draco." The airy voice commanded. Draco closed his eyes and fearfully took three steps to the Dark Lord. "Closer – I must teach you strength. Looks are not everything." Draco gulped and made his way slowly to the Dark Lord. As soon as he stopped moving, Voldemort backhanded him, sending him to the ground from the force of the blow.
"You're to be perfect, Draco. If whipping you is the only way to gain perfection, then so be it." Draco awaited his consequence as a kick was sent into his ribs, knocking the air out of him. Again and again he was sent into physical torture by the form of kicks. They seemed to be the Dark Lord's specialty, without using magic. When Draco started to cough up vomit and blood, the Dark Lord ceased and drew his wand. "Now, Draco. We'll teach you yet." He whispered. Draco looked longingly to his father for help, but Lucius only stood in the corner and smirked. That hurt Draco more than anything. His father's smirk. That's why he hated it so much.
The Dark Lord jerked his wand and Draco's body was sent on his feet. To the left went Voldemort's wand, and to the left went Draco, and was slammed up against a wall. "Ouch!" He screamed, as his head landed on a picture, and the glass covering the photo broke from his skull.
"Does it hurt, Draco?" The Dark Lord asked. "We must not let you feel pain. Pain is something to be left in the past." He paced in front of Draco, and instantly put chains up on the wall; so, his father fastened Draco to the chains. Lucius then went back to his normal spot in the corner. "Pain, Draco, is what normal humans feel. Normal is not in our vocabulary. Perfection is what we strive for; is what you should strive for every day. When pain has left you, a piece of your soul will leave you. It will feel like an on going high… and you'll never be the same. But if you are to be my best Death Eater, you shall feel nothing. You shall think like an assassin, and you shall breathe like it was your last breath every time. You shall be perfect, and then, soon, unstoppable."
Voldemort removed his hood slowly and revealed his snakelike eyes and his bald, gray skin. "But until you learn to accept pain as a normal sensation, you cannot remove it." He tilted his wand and pressed it hard to Draco's chest. "Crucio!" Draco screamed out, knowing he shouldn't have, and struggled to clutch his stomach. Every nerve in his body cried in pain and suffering.
"Father… make it stop!" He shouted to Lucius. But Lucius only smiled and crossed his arms contently. Twenty minutes passed with thrashing and curses before Draco passed out. Voldemort chuckled and looked to Lucius.
"Make him strong, Lucius. He has much to learn."
"My Lord?" Malfoy Senior inquired.
"The Ministry and Order have been receiving rumors that I have neared this area, twice on occasions. So, I must hide away for a period of time. I am leaving you in charge of Draco's lessons. Be sure to beat him once a day. ONLY once. If he still feels pain in a week, don't permit him to eat. He shall quickly comprehend what lies he has left behind – and what truth lies ahead." Voldemort patted Lucius on the shoulder and left the Manor in complete ghostly silence.
