AN: This chapter was surprisingly difficult for me to get started but once I got going it just kind of wrote itself. I hope you enjoy!
Chapter 5
Mind's eye
The room was silent. Draco lay still and enjoyed the contrast to his last waking memory. The peace didn't last long for him before the memories of the night before resurfaced in his mind. The shrill screams of the angry goes echo as silvery mist flashes behind his closed eyes.
His eyes fly open before immediately slamming shut as the light streaming into his room causes a bolt of sharp pain to flash through his head. Raising his hand to his head causes his aching muscles to protest and he groans pitifully. "Cibney," he croaks out, his arm resting limply over his eyes.
"Master is being awake." He can hear the relief in the small elf's voice and cannot help the small smile that quirks his lips. He attempts to respond but can only manage a tight grimace as another stabbing pain shoots through his head. "Master be needing more pain potions," Cibney stated. He hears her rustling through the drawers of his bedside table before a cool vial is placed against his lips. "Master but be drinking this. He is feeling better after."
He gratefully gulps down the bitter tasting potion, sighing as the pain immediately ebbs. "Thank you Cibney," he says with a sigh. "I take it you were responsible for bringing me to my rooms last night."
"Cibney be finding Master unconscious in the dungeons again. Cibney is bringing him to his rooms and Mistress Narcissa is staying to give him his potions."
"Where is my mother?" Draco asks, moving his arm and looking over at the elf.
"She is leaving on business early in the morning," Cibney turns back toward the drawers before her as she speaks, replacing the now empty vial. "Cibney is supposed to be calling her when Master wakes but Cibney is wanting to be giving Master his potions before Cibney is sending."
"Let Mother be for now."
"But Mistress is wanting to be making sure Master Draco is being alright."
"I am perfectly capable of being without my Mother for a few hours Cibney. I've managed this far just fine."
"Cibney be meaning no disrespect toward Master but Master is not being fine. Master is being injured and hurting and is coming to the manor after him is being working and Cibney is seeing on his face that he is not being fine." She slams the drawer back closed with a dull thud and Draco turns to stare openly at her. "Cibney is knowing that she is speaking poorly of her Master," she continues with a small sigh, turning to look over at him, "but Cibney is being the one raising Master Draco since he is being in his nappies and Master Draco is always being kind to Cibney even when Master Draco is being punished for it and Cibney worries for Master, sir." She pulls lightly on one of her long ears before reaching out and patting Draco fondly on the hand. "Cibney stays to help Master Draco even if Master Draco is being stubborn about admitting when help is being needed."
"How long has it been since my Mother left?"
"She is leaving only less than one hour ago."
"Leave her to her business for now; I wish to shower in peace. Afterward, you may alert my mother."
"Cibney can be doing that." He catches the triumphant smile that passes over the elf's face as she turns away and rolls his eyes.
"And Cibney."
"Yes sir?" she turns back toward him with a curious tilt to her head.
"Thank you."
"Master is being very welcome," she smiles brightly at him before disappearing from the room.
"Bloody bonkers I swear," he whispers to himself, a fond smile on his face. Pushing himself to sit up, he ignores the feel of the skin pulling on his, still healing, arms and slides to the edge of the mattress. Smoothly pulling himself to his feet, he makes his way toward his shower, impatient to feel the sting of the hot water against his skin.
He stares into the mirror, taking in the darkening circles under his eyes and the way his hair fell in unkempt waves around his face. Brushing the pale strands from his face he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against the mirror.
"Coward."
The whisper sounds as though it is behind him. His eyes fly open as he turns to observe the empty room around him. He scans the room before turning back toward the mirror and begins to undo the buttons of his once crisp white dress shirt. "Get ahold of yourself," he whispers to himself as he lets the shirt fall to the floor. He glances down at his arms at the angry red welts that are all that remain of the jagged cuts that had appeared the night before, his eyes landing on the faded mark on his forearm.
He hears his aunt's laughter echo off the walls nearly drowned out by a shrill pain filled screams.
Shaking his head to clear it, he quickly finishes undressing, waving his wand to star the shower before stepping in, sighing as the steaming water hits his aching muscles. He lets his mind wander to the night before in an attempt to place the strange spirit who has taken the lead in the haunting of the dungeons. Her face is familiar and he begins to flip through his mental lists he has kept since the war. Names and faces of those that had been locked in the dungeons. Those he had and killed and those he had been forced to torture himself.
His hands begin to shake as faces flash before his closed eyes, their screams echoing through his mind. He clenches them tightly in an attempt to cease their movement. The sound of the water is drowned out in the myriad of screams and pleas that run unchecked through his memories and he screams in frustration.
When he opens his eyes, he is kneeling on the floor of the shower, unaware of when his legs had ceased to hold him. He rests his hands on the floor before him, his head hung low as the water cascades down his back and drips from his sodden hair. "I'm sorry," he whispers before reaching out for his wand to stop the flow of water.
His wand rolls across the porcelain floor of the shower as he lets his hand returns to its place on the ground before him.
He's not sure how much time has passed when he hears the pop of Cibney appearing back in his rooms. "I'll be out in a moment," he calls out before pulling himself to stand back up, bracing himself against the wall. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he stands before the mirror once more as he cast drying and straightening charms on his hair and a glamor to cover the pallor and shadows of his face.
One final spell summons clothes from his rooms and he quickly changes into the black trousers and silk shirt that appear before stepping back out into his rooms.
"Master is taking so long, Cibney is being worried he be hurting himself again."
"Nonsense Cibney," he replies, waving her hand dismissively before pocketing his wand. "I was merely enjoying the solitude."
"Is you be wanting some breakfast?"
"I'm not particularly hungry at the moment. A warm cup of tea would not be amiss, however." He bends to pull on a pair of black dress shoes as he speaks and gives the elf a smile.
"Is Master wanting Cibney to serve in his study today?"
"No lets," he pauses for a moment before continuing, "Lets use the drawing today I think."
Cibney looks back at him curiously for a moment before nodding her head and disappearing once more.
The walk down the stairs to the drawing room at the front of the house does not take long and Draco spends the time in silence attempting to force the voices he had unlocked in the shower back to their places; safely confined behind his occlumency walls.
He pauses at the door for several minutes before forcing himself to open the door.
It has been years since he has entered the room. The memories it holds being something he had not yet felt prepared to confront. He walks briskly to the far side of the room, ignoring the restored chandelier and familiar fireplace, where he knows his father once kept his best firewhiskey. Pouring himself a generous glass as a small tray with tea and a small variety of finger foods appears on one of the nearby tables, he turns to survey the once brightly lit room.
Chuckling lightly at Cibney's not so subtle suggestion that he eat something, Draco ignores the tray completely, choosing instead to walk back over to the empty fireplace carrying his freshly poured drink with him.
A silent incendio causes a crackling fire to appear in the fireplace before he turns and leans against it as he glances around the room, taking a long drink. His eyes flit around the room from the mantle beside him, to the plush rug before the fireplace and up to the crystal chandelier that had been custom made to replace the one that had fallen years prior.
He hears the door open but doesn't turn as he greets the person he assumes enters. "Hello Mother."
"Draco, dear, I am glad to see you awake."
"I thank you for your assistance last night. Cibney tells me that you helped her once I was returned to my rooms."
"Ah yes, that is actually what we have come to speak with you about."
Draco pulls his eyes from the floor at the center of the room at his mother's words. "We?" His eyes land on his mother first, standing regally just inside the door. They widen a the familiar messy dark hair that stands just behind her. As his eyes land on the final occupant around the room an icy feeling settles in his stomach, the pressure in the room increasing until he finds it almost impossible to draw a breath. Screams echo through his mind drowning out the sound of shatter glass as his whiskey falls from his hand.