Disclaimer: Same as ever
AN: Swearing! The f word! Oh, and domestic violence.
I lie awake, listening to the sound of the shower from the bathroom, and try to find some sort of motivation to get out of bed. I fail. I can hear Harry giggling at the end of the corridor and, in a moment of malicious spite, hope that Draco is like his father. It seems unfair to me that they can talk, smile, laugh, and not be afraid that one wrong move could provoke the type of consequences I live in fear of.
The sound of running water stops and I listen to Lucius moving around in the bathroom. He steps out of the shower, slips on the floor, curses. I smile. A few moments pass before he opens the door and I turn my back to him. He's dressed in pale blue robes and has his hair tied back from his face.
"Get up." Although his voice is cruel, he doesn't sound angry and I hope that maybe, today, he'll leave me alone. I slide my feet onto the cold floor and brush my hair from my face, wincing at the pressure on my barely healed wrist, before pushing myself from the bed. He leans on the doorframe, his arms folded, and examines the latest damage. I squirm uneasily under his gaze and look at the floor. I wait for him to comment on my wrist, which still looks awkward and uncomfortable, but he doesn't. His eyes linger on a vicious bite mark near my neck instead.
"Wear a high collar." I pick robes from the wardrobe and hold them up, waiting for his approval. He scrunches his nose in disgust and starts to inspect his nails. "No, not those ones. Do you really want everyone else to see how overweight you've become?" I flinch at the comment and root around in my wardrobe for something else to wear. I have been putting on weight over the past few months, but I didn't realize that others had noticed.
After a while he gets impatient and pushes past me. "For fuck's sake! Here, wear this one." The robes he throws at me are almost identical to the ones I picked. He makes his way to the door, tired of waiting for me. "Be at breakfast at ten past eight. I don't want to have to come and find you. Do you?" I shake my head. "What?" Had I not lived with Lucius for the past ten years, I would've thought it impossible to force so much malice into one word.
"No." My heart rate quickens, hoping that it was the right answer, that it won't anger him further.
"Good." He hesitates with his hand on the door handle and looks down. "How's your wrist?"
"It's fine." He doesn't believe my lie for one second, but nods and leaves the room hurriedly. I wish that he'd apologise, show some form of remorse, just once. I wish he'd put his arms around me, dry my tears, place tender kisses on my forehead when I'm hurting.
I throw my robes down onto the unmade bed and open the heavy red drapes. Lucius is sitting alone in the painfully bright morning sun. His staff rush around him, placing fruit and croissants on the garden table wherever they can find room. I consider arriving at eleven minutes past eight, just to piss him off, but know that it would be a deplorable sin in his eyes. Further up the inconceivably vast garden, Draco chases Harry, his pale skin lightly flushed from the exercise. Harry runs quickly, but not as quickly as the athletic youth can move, if he wants to escape. But right now, he wants to be caught. Draco ensnares him round the waist and lifts him off his feet. Harry lets out a scream and laughs as Draco whirls him round to face him, capturing his lips in a lingering kiss. I picture my self running, and although I try my hardest to get away from him, he catches me, winding me and gripping my arms, forcing me to look at him. I don't laugh, and my scream is a cry of fear, not child-like delight as Harry's was. He crushes his lips to mine, bruising the eternally pained flesh.
I close the drapes again, and start to get dressed, overly aware that it's already seven minutes past eight.