Chapter Eleven: Listening
It was rare when I actually wanted to listen to my mother because a lot of what had come out of her mouth before was bullshit that she was just stringing together to sound good. But the story of her and my father's upbringing was something I had never heard before and I was very curious.
"Your father's father, your grandfather, was about as harsh a man as your father is. The way they were both raised dictates how they act and thus dictates his actions towards you. I know that your father always wanted a boy to add to the generations of tough-as-nails men in the family, but when you were born he took on a cold reserve thinking that you would be just as tough. And you are. But you are also a little part of me.
'My father, your grandpa, was just as harsh. But the difference there was my mother had spirit too and fought back. When I was born my mother told him straight that he would learn to be a sweeter, more understanding man or else she would never leave him alone with me. Well that helped me for the first seventeen years of my life, until my mother died. I had finished school by then, but the world was changing, just as it is now, and I was afraid. My father saw this and started his tutelage right away, forcing me to hide the pain or fear I felt. Soon enough I learned to hide away all my emotions. He used to say that emotions were weakness and they could be used against me. I didn't believe him until one night."
She looked down as if it pained her to speak further, but still she continued. "I was studying in the library; my father kept me well read and quizzed me on my subjects daily. At 19 it was a little odd, but I felt safe at home. At least up until then I had.
'Anyway, I was studying and I heard crashing glass from without the library and I ran to investigate. I saw three men draped in black climbing through the window. I froze. They saw me then and I turned to flee. But they soon caught up with me and forced me to take them to my father.
'He was in his study and when we entered he jumped to his feet and demanded the men release me but the men just cackled. I stood stalk still, refusing to fight. I remember somewhere in my mind thinking of my mother and how she would have fought back but the look on my father's face told me not to try. So I didn't. I watched as the Death Eaters tortured my father for information, driving him to insanity. I even felt the sting of the Cruciatus Curse myself, only briefly and not once did I scream out for either of us."
I was staring at my mother in horror, listening to her relay this to me. "How is it possible I did not know this?"
She shook her head, "I had buried it so deep down inside myself that I thought it was only a dream for a long time. I buried it beneath all the plays and stage directions and lines. I wanted to forget it. I've only told one other person about this, Sadie."
"Who? Dad?"
She shook her head again. "No. Flynn."
"Why didn't you tell Dad?" I asked, though I already instinctively knew the answer.
"Your father is so much like my father that even if I told him it would have made little difference. I was never looking for pity from him. I think I originally married him because he could protect me. But my father hadn't protected me in the end. I watched my father die that night. Can you really imagine I wanted to tell Loden? Knowing your father he would have just sniffed and continued with his work. He was never the most affectionate person."
I could understand that one, loud and clear. "And Flynn?"
At this the corners of my mother's eyes wrinkled as she smiled a little. "Flynn is very different."
"How?" I found myself smiling along with her.
"He's kind to me Sadie. He's the gentlest man I have ever met. He listens to me, actually listens. It's not like I'm talking to a brick wall because when I talk, he talks back." She lit up with each word of praise. "He's generous, not just as a man, but as a companion, and I don't have to worry about ever being ignored for other commitments. Finally here is a man who is my equal."
"You really do love him, don't you?" I blinked back tears. I had never seen my mother like this, but I found myself drawn to her. She was actually my mother in this moment; she had transformed before my eyes into the mother I had never really known or understood.
"I really do, Princess. He means the world to me."
"I'm glad, Mum. I really am. That's all I really wanted to know."
Her smile brightened even more and she leaned off her stool and wrapped her arms around me in what I can honestly say was the first genuine hug she had ever given me. I hugged her right back and let the tears of happiness wash down my face.
She pulled back away. "So does this mean you'll be at my wedding?"
I brushed back the falling tears, smiling and nodding, "Of course, Mum. I'll be right beside you the entire time."
She gave a sigh of relief. "Good, because I can honestly say I don't know how I would do it without you." She chuckled a little, "I'm scared out of my wits here. I don't want to act but I know put on the spot like that I will slip right into that. I know Flynn wouldn't mind, but I'd like to be as true as I can be in that moment if no other."
"I know what you mean Mum." I smiled. "We'll work on it. I need to work on that myself. Life at Hogwarts isn't as simple as it used to be."
She raised an eyebrow. "Boy troubles?"
"Like you wouldn't believe."
The corners of her eyes crinkled with her smile and I found myself telling her all about it.
The one thing he always noticed about coming home, no matter how many times he was away, was how cold it could get in his house. Never once had he returned to a warm, brightly lit house. It was always shrouded in darkness, and when he stepped through the door a chill would pass up his spine and his shoulders would straighten.
This time was no different.
He walked through the main entrance, through the set of double doors in front of him and then up the stone staircase that lead to the main room of the house where he knew his parents would be convening, awaiting his arrival. I'm sure they would not be pleased at his making them wait, but his mind was not occupied on their wrath at the moment.
He stepped into the room to find his mother sitting in a high-back burgundy-colored velvet chair by the fireplace. His father stood on the opposite side of the mantle with his back facing the door.
"Tardiness is a most unbecoming quality," his father spoke low and turned to face his son. Draco's face hardened as he put up the protective wall against his father's insults. "You would be wise to be more punctual in the future."
Draco said nothing.
"Where has your head been?" his mother hissed at him from the chair. Usually she was the more quiet and stand-offish. She would stand behind his father until her death however, being extremely loyal and despite all his faults, she still loved Lucius Malfoy. "You are not completing your task as required."
"I am doing my best," he replied flatly, not rising to the anger he felt growing within him.
"Your best?" Lucius sneered. "You have not been doing your best! Your last update was two weeks ago. What could possibly be taking so long?"
"This task was appointed to me! I will complete it. There are problems with the device. It's temperamental."
"Enough with your excuses!" his mother rose to her feet as she spoke. "You cannot possibly know what is riding on this task, what it could cost all of us if you should fail!"
He met his mother's glare. "I know exactly what the consequences are. Do not presume I am an innocent party in this. This task was entrusted to me, and no one else. I know what will happen should I not succeed."
"Then what is taking so long?" Lucius prompted, his eyes cold and hard on Draco.
"The magic of these Cabinets is nothing trivial, Father. It is advanced magic. I am learning just as much as I am repairing. Trial and error."
"There is no room for error!" his father outraged, throwing his hands in the air.
"Then you fix it yourself!" Draco yelled back, tired of his parents talking down to him, making him feel like a child again. "Fix it yourself if you think you can do better. Because as it stands I am closer to destroying it than repairing it."
"You wouldn't dare," his mother's voice crossed to him in a small whispered, her mouth hidden behind her hand. "You know what that would mean, for you…for your father."
"Like I said, I know the consequences. I would not wish that fate on my family, but at this current moment, the way you are treating me, seems like a far more ideal alternative."
"'The way we are treating you'…as an adult ridden with responsibilities that will affect all of us!" his mother said.
Draco shook his head, "No. As a child you are scolding for not doing something right. The Dark Lord does not give second chances, this I know, but until I have something to report, I will not contact any of you again if this is the treatment I am to receive."
His father, who had once looked so strong to him, looked pale and weary. He had black rings around his sunken-in eyes and his cheekbones were far more prominent than they had ever been. His mother looked frightened and scared for her family, a family she had worked hard in keeping together. This task was tearing his family apart in more ways than he could imagine, and he did not see it ending well.
"Very well," his father said, the rasp in his voice like sandpaper. "Go."
And with that Draco turned on his heels. He had great respect for his family, for the things they had taught him about life. It was a far darker lesson than any other child had learned, but nonetheless it had made him strong and resilient. As he marched out of the Manor and down the gravel road to the gate his mind left his family and fell to Sadie, strangely enough.
Even in all this darkness and hatred, her presence seemed to find him. She was like a light at the end of the never-ending dark tunnel that he was wandering through. He had tried to make her his property, as his parents had tried to do to him. She had shrugged him off, told him it was over, and that had stung much more than he had thought it would. It dawned on him that they were indeed far more alike than he'd suspected. He continued on the long path away from the Manor, his thoughts full of Sadie and all the ways he might apologize to her. For he had decided that an apology from him would be the only way things would be mended, and he desperately needed them mended.