Harry Potter - Series Fan Fiction ❯ Fu Inle ❯ memory ( Chapter 1 )

Fu Inle

 

For warnings and disclaimer see the prologue plz! I don't own, and don't say I didn't warn you…

Chapter1: Memories

 

From the deep ocean of black that envelops him, memory comes. This isn't too unusual, as Draco's memories often come draped in the guise of dreams. Night after night they had visited at Hogwarts. Many of those in his house had suffered a similar fate. The dorm had more than a few silenced beds every single night.

The smell of the room assails his senses first. Bitter, old dust and grime fit with the appearance of the room in which he now stands. Cobwebs hang from the ceiling. The pale peach wallpaper peels from the walls in hanging strips. The old hardwood floors are uneven and cracked, faded with time. The glass on the lone hanging light is broken; the pieces have long been swept away.

Draco sighs, his arms are bound by his father's spell again. Those chains are only visible to himself and Lucius. His wrists are cut and bleeding again. The scars refused to heal whenever he wore these shackles. His clothes hang, dirty, from a now slightly thinner frame. The long, blonde hair that was once adored by the masses now hangs limp, greasy, and tinged a bit from lack of care. The silver-blue eyes that once held ice and hidden fire have lost their spark.

Lucius laughs, his arms folded over his chest. The familiar Malfoy sneer rests on his face. While his son is the image of his predicament, he speaks only of glory and arrogant pride.

“Have you grown tired of running then? Or did we happen to catch you at a bad time? Our lord is very displeased. He did not like it when Severus had to make up for your weakness. Why did you run? There's no way that you could have known that he would take action against you… he didn't even decide that himself until after those aurors killed our remarkable double agent. He was actually glad that we had Potter on the wrong track. He was already in a good mood. I'm sure that you could have “persuaded” him if it had come to whether or not you received true punishment or not.” Lucius' voice is cold.

But Draco refuses to die without a show. “Really? Potter saw me, and he saw Snape. The lord would have killed Severus even if the aurors hadn't. he had exhausted his purpose, you see. It's actually quite simple, mon pere.”

The only thing that he gets from his words is another of his father's inventions. This is a spell much like the Cruciatus. Pain courses through the young Malfoy's pale form. His father doesn't stop until he cannot scream anymore.

“You need to learn to hold your tongue.” A smile breaks through Lucius' cool exterior. A smirk replaces the sneer. “Unless you would rather occupy it in other matters?”

Draco shakes his head vigorously trying to clear his mind of those images. His father pushes him back against the wall. The back of his skull hits the stone with a dulled crack. Those lips press rough against his own. Draco tries to pull away, finding his efforts to be in vain. This is all so familiar. His body fights, although his mind knows that it will do no good. Lucius gets rougher, forcing his tongue into his son's mouth. At this, every muscle freezes. Tears of dread at what's to come well up in those silver eyes.

“If you beg, he may spare you. He has been known to grant mercy to those he likes. You were one of his favorites, you know.”

Anger takes effect again. Draco snaps “No thank you. I would rather die if it's all the same to you. That thing has always been inhuman, no matter what form it took. I refuse to be a part of that anymore. You can be his whore, I'm sure he'd appreciate you too”.

Lucius draws a dagger from his belt. He sends his unique spell again until Draco sheds the waiting tears. He lets the cold steel run down Draco's bare stomach. The young blond hangs limp in the chains that bind him here. Noticing how much they sag from the weight, he releases his spell. He runs the blade slowly across Draco's left cheek.

The feeling of fire along that one crimson line reveals the blade to be poisoned. His pale hair sticks to the fresh blood. He bows his head, ready to fall. The blade finds his stomach. A sound somewhere between a gasp and a scream escapes his throat. Lucius wrenches his head back.

“So, you'll scream for me now. You are so appealing when you're like this. I should just have you one last time before you die…”

“NO! Please, anything but that. S'il vous plait, let me die well.” The words are sobbed more than spoken.

Lucius smiles and laughs a bitter laugh. “You act as though I would dirty myself with the likes of you. Farewell, Draco.” The knife finds a new location in Draco's ribs. The boy collapses to the ground.

Lucius struts away, letting the old, creaking door slam itself shut. The laugh that sends shivers up Draco's spine echoes from the empty hallway.

A pale hand goes to the imbedded dagger. Warm blood flows over his hand.

I can't breathe. I'm going to die.

A smile lights his face for only an instant.

I'm going to die.