IMPOSSIBLE RISKS // Drarry

39) MALFOY MANOR!

Trigger Warning for Torture, Homophobic Language, and mentions of cannibalism. (These next few chapters are getting dark.) 

He is locked in his room at the Manor. This part of the house in particular is a cacophony of some of his best and worst memories. His mother used to play Wizatd's Chess with him when he was young and still had a bit of light in him. The stories that she would tell him about the Great Harry Potter, the infant who vanquished the Dark Lord, always made him smile. How she used to dress his toddler self in the most ridiculously lavish of outfits like he was her very own doll to spoil as she pleased. But then everything changed.

Lucious caught wind of her switch in loyalties and beat him in front of him right in this very room. How a place that was once laced with his childhood is now tarnished by his mother's sobs.

After that, his life became hell. His father started off by removing every single toy that was in his room and throwing it into the cruel flames of the mahogany fireplace before his eyes. Then, he replaced them all with books on the dark arts. He was expected to learn magic before he even came to Hogwarts and if he didn't get it right on the first try, he'd get stuck in the face with the man's cane.

His father turned him into a shell of a person in this room and he hates it. He despises that he's never been treated like a person and that he was forced to grow up way too fast. It sucks.

Just as he is about ready to gather every bit of frilly, rich boy clothing that is left in the room and tear it all to shreds, there is a sudden knock at his door. Knowing that it is most likely his mother from the gentleness of it, he sighs out, "Come in."

Clicks of heels against the wooden floor make him feel just a bit more assured and he doesn't even look up.

"Draco." Her voice is soft and full of agony as she speaks, moving over to him so that she can run her hands through his hair.

"Yes?" he says, looking up at her. Tears are rolling down her cheeks.

"The Dark Lord is here."

For the first time since she sent him away from the Manor, he actually looks at his mother; Her glowing skin has turned brittle from ongoing stress, her hair out of place and less colorful. There are even speckles of grey streaking through it.

She forces herself to look away from him, staring off into the window, her makeup caked on her face as more tears flood down her face. She looks as though she will crumble to the ground from despair at any moment as her knees shake underneath her. Finally, after sobbing for a few seconds, she croaks out, "He's calling for you specifically."

It takes him a few moments to speak as an uncomfortable heat crawls over his entire body and he can feel the sweat dripping down his pale forehead. "Who told? Was it father?"

"Your father is in prison, Draco. He got arrested at the ministry after the Aurrors came," she tells him and a very large part of him feels like celebrating if it weren't such a serious moment, "What were you doing there?"

"I was fighting. For what's right," he says, looking right at her, "I'm on his side, not Vol - "

"Don't say his name," she says hastily, voice almost coming out as a hiss. She sighs, "I chose the wrong side when I was you're age. I thought that muggle-borns were inferior, I was raised to think that way. And when this Dark Lord came around, mirroring the views that I grew up with, I agreed with him. I'm not as good as you think I am, Draco. I didn't officially join them but I openly supported Lucious in it. He was that man that I was betrothed to. He had money. He bought me. I couldn't do much in protest."

"He bought you?"

"Not literally. . . I wasn't in some action, sold to the highest bidder. But the only reason I married him was because my mother and father wanted to grow our wealth," she says sadly, "I've always been a possession to your father."