|elfflame (elfflame) wrote in true_revenge,|
@ 2007-09-16 18:38:00
|Entry tags:||true revenge 1|
True Revenge Part 4
Title: True Revenge
Rating: Rish for abuse
Canon to: OOTP
Warnings: Spousal Abuse
Disclaimer: As we all know, that very lucky lady JK Rowling owns these characters, I’m just borrowing them for a bit.
A/N: See Part 1 for notes.
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Another summer passed, and another year with Draco away at school. And then it began. At the Quidditch World Cup.
Her first glimpse of this boy—the boy that had defeated the Dark Lord, frustrated her husband’s ambitions, and enraged her son—was so innocuous that at first she had no idea who she was seeing. But a quick glance at her husband’s and son’s faces told her volumes. As she sat in her seat, ignoring the events going on in front of her, she finally got a good, measured glimpse of him. This was the Boy That Lived? This scrawny, gangly, baggy boy, whose clothes were little better than the clothes they allowed their house elves? While everyone else watched the game, she spent the time examining him searching for some clue of the power that this boy contained. He looked no better than her son, certainly. In terms of looks, Draco far outshone him. But there was something—some indescribable…something that made it hard for her to tear her eyes from his face, from the scar given him in that first battle with the Dark Lord, a battle that should have left him a corpse, but had instead changed the wizarding world forever.
But it was what happened that night that truly changed everything. Lucius had disappeared for an hour, then reappeared, surrounded by several “old friends” that she recognized from the days when she had suspected him of being one of the Dark Lord’s minions. Seeing this, she hurried to her son’s room and woke him. “Draco. Wake up.” Draco was groggy, but when she told him to grab his robe and sent him into the forest, he went quietly, no questions asked. Then she returned to deal with her husband.
Was he a fool? Did he think that he could get away with such a foolish gesture? She could never tell what was in her husband’s head, but she could not allow this to harm their son. Lucius’s response was very familiar. She regained consciousness later, body aching, and gazed out at where her husband and his “friends” were enjoying themselves. Then she saw it. The Dark Mark. Horror froze her for a moment. It had come from the forest. Just where she had sent Draco. She ran the entire way. After several minutes of horrified searching, she found him, and dragged him back to their tent, cursing her husband the entire way.
Lucius had already arrived, and changed back into his normal black robes before they had returned. She approached her husband, burning with anger, her earlier bruises forgotten, and proceeded to tell him exactly what kind of an idiot she thought he was. Lucius raised his cane, then looked behind her to where his son still stood. “Draco. Go to bed.”
Narcissa turned to look at her son, horrified. It was the first time she had ever heard her son defy his father. She took a deep breath, smiled grimly, then turned again to face Lucius once more. Her gaze dared him to beat her in front of his precious son. Let Draco see just exactly what his father was. She knew that for Draco, it would be the last straw, and Lucius would lose the precious son that he had carefully groomed to follow in his footsteps.
This showdown had ended in a stalemate, but not without a growled promise from Lucius that she would regret defying him.
And, once Draco returned to Hogwarts, she did—for a time. But soon Lucius became distracted. Often, in the middle of one of her beatings, his raised cane would suddenly lower again, and he would clasp his arm, then, with a worried look, he would sweep from the room. Then one night, shortly before Draco’s return from Hogwarts, it happened. As before, the cane raised, then he faltered, but this time, a hiss passed his clenched teeth, and instead of clenching his arm, he pulled up his sleeve. There was a mark there. Black and red and…pulsing? Lucius didn’t even spare her a look as he seemed to almost flee from the room.
Though there were differences from earlier distractions, at first Narcissa thought nothing of them. But his return that night told her far more than she wanted to know. The look on Lucius’s face said everything. He wore a mixture of terror, pain, loathing, and glee that she could attribute only to one thing—his master had returned. The Dark Lord had arisen once more.
Narcissa was terrified. Now it was not simply Lucius who would be in danger if he upset the Dark Lord. Now he might harm Draco too.
And, too, she knew that Lucius would not hesitate until Draco had joined him at his master’s side. But what could she do to prevent it? And when Draco returned home from Hogwarts, she was even more concerned, for Draco’s anger against that boy had grown into such a rage that he spent the first month home in a horrific temper, slamming doors and kicking the house elves. He was becoming even more like his father.
Luckily, Lucius spent very little time at home that summer.
At the end of the summer, when Draco received his letter, Lucius was ecstatic. Draco had been made a prefect. “No more than you deserve, boy. You’re a Malfoy.” He lavished Draco with attention and gifts. It all made Narcissa ill.
The night before Draco left for Hogwarts, Narcissa called him into her room. She was not going to the station with them, and so she wanted to say a private goodbye to him. Draco entered, and as usual, settled on her bed.
Narcissa looked her son in the eye.
“I know this year will be difficult for you, Draco.”
Draco smirked. “I don’t know,” he drawled. “It’s looking pretty good to me. Maybe that Potter will finally be expelled. I mean, he almost was this summer, so he’s on his last chance.”
Narcissa sighed. “I wish you wouldn’t dwell on that boy. It isn’t worth your time. You’re the Heir of two major houses, Draco. He’s nothing. Please, don’t do anything to lower yourself to his level.”
She watched as her son’s eyes glowed silver, then narrowed. “He’s the one who’s going to have to watch his step this year, Mother.” Then, like a cloud passing, his expression changed, and he became her son once more and smiled. “I’ll miss you this year.” He looked at her another moment, a worried expression in his eyes. “Stay out of his way, okay? If he doesn’t see you…maybe he won’t hurt you.” He bowed his head.
She wrapped her arms around her son. It was times like this that she felt as though her son were two separate beings in one body. This boy was nothing like the one who had threatened his classmate just a moment before. “I’ll be fine, Draco. I’ve lived with your father for more than twenty years, and I’m still alive.”
He scowled at her, but she held his gaze. He smiled again, and they hugged.