Weakness Guides The Heart

Chapter One

The room was eerie, an unsettling ambiguity coating the skirting boards; painting the walls with penetrating fury.

Heavy footsteps sent a wavering echo around the room; leather boots concise with every step, each toe gracefully gliding against the ground; the slight incline of the heel plummeting the floor with an unnerving gentleness.

"Your memories are very peculiar indeed, Draco." Lucius spoke, words hollow in his cheeks, floating passed his lips with steady ease. His eyes were fixated on the younger boy, studying his caved cheeks, collapsed by his own teeth gnawing at the vulnerable flesh. His eyes were low, lashes thick, shielding the fear laced within his icy orbs.

But his father could sense the weakness in his stance; could feel the defeat dripping from his fingertips, like crimson liquid, desperate for an escape.

The footsteps stopped.

The older kneeled; his back pillared upwards, held by arrogant strength, whilst his left knee folded, pointed like a dagger ready to strike.

His fingers brushed the icy skin of his sons' chin; a gentle energy lifting his face forward, straight; focused.

"Very peculiar." Lucius spoke with sarcastic amazement, eyes transfixed on his own fingers beneath the boy's chin, close enough to touch; to showcase fatherly affection, yet instead poised perfectly, penetrating a false sword, one that kept the younger Malfoys face from falling.

"Draco." The man seethed softly; his name gliding passed gritted teeth, slapping Draco's eyes upwards, towards his fathers.

A shiver fell down his spine as he studied the eyes dominated by gloomy colours; ices and greys sewn together, dancing around the lifeless centre; slowly being consumed by bleakness; willingly being captured by darkness.

A reflection of Draco's own eyes, discounting the willingness.

"Are you not listening?" He closed his eyes, a familiar tightness consuming his throat, trapping his words; his thoughts, from fleeing. He nodded softly.

He was listening all too clearly.

Lucius stood abruptly, a sneer overshadowing his features; a dark light igniting his eyes.

"Then why are you still feeling?" The man hissed, venom seeping from his scowling lips; the spit soaking the boy's icy hair, intoxicating his very being. "Why are you still surrounding yourself with-with-"

"Friends?"

"Do not speak out of line!" The words pummelled throughout the air, taring any shred of sense that still lingered into tiny specks of nothingness.

He lifted his wand, forcing the lean stick to steadily study his component, his son. It was challenging, daring Draco to speak; to argue, disobey, yet it seeped with arrogance; the silver sparkles oozing from the pointed edges ignited by a knowing smirk.

Draco wouldn't dare step out of line.

"Well." Lucius spoke, his wrist twisting; fingers elegantly swaying, slithering across the defenceless air surrounding his body. He quirked an eyebrow; a devious smile decorating his lips; one tight, conceited; battered lips tortured by the expression, yet one that was delicate; lighter than air.

Certain.

"My words alone clearly aren't enough to make you...obey." He spoke smoothly, the words like silver slithers pirouetting gracefully towards Draco's ears. "And so, maybe a...test, will help you understand."

"Understand?" Draco wondered, a quiet fragility tangled within his questioning eyes.

"Forgive me, that may not be the correct wording...let me explain this more simply, Draco."

Lucius never tore his gaze away. He poisoned Draco's skin with his toxic eyes, destroying the youthful delicateness of his pale cheeks; obliterating the smooth curve of his jaw; the gentle bend of his nose; the furrow in his brow; his very being.

"I want you to learn to become disconnected from your feelings. You need to become...numb, if you will. You must separate your feelings from your body, Draco, otherwise you will be destroyed."

Lucius stood upright; his elbow strong, direct; the leanness of his arm extending right to the tip of his wand. The strength of his stance was ignited by the gleeful fury of his spell; the darkness cowering in the corners was heaved towards the male, twisting into vicious clouds; like smoke burning beneath his toes.

Draco dared a glance; his eyebrows furrowing, twisting together; tied by the rope pulling his features downwards, tugging them into a state of bewildered dread.

Before him lay an infant creature, whose eyes still gleamed with a sense of discovery; curiosity glimmering like the hopeful flame encasing the young being. Her eyes were wide, bright, sparkling with blues and greens hand-picked from the Forbidden Forest; the delicate petals of roses laced into her orbs, pooled with the gentle wave of the lakes illuminated by the stars and the moon that ignited the night sky.

They were breath-taking.

"What is it?" The younger boy wondered, eyes unable to move from the fascinatingly beautiful creature a mere meter from his touch.

"That is the wrong question to ask." Lucius spat, a disgusted scowl staining his lips as he watched the creature sit; watched his fragile legs desperately try to stand; to find the power, the strength, his companions possessed.

He was too young; he was too weak.

"The question you should be asking, Draco, is 'how do I kill it'." Startled, Draco's eyes shot upwards; wide with frightened realisation; the icy flickers fading, consumed by dread; the pupil, the central darkness of his body, expanding across the entirety of his fear.

"Stand." Draco did as told, taking a small, hesitant step towards his father; eyes unwilling to move from the beautiful creature gargling below.

"Raise your wand." Quivering reluctance raised Draco's wand, shakily guiding it towards the small being beneath his feet. The creature stared wide-eyed at the boy; a keen curiosity igniting her blue orbs, causing her mouth to softly drop, as if a gentle gush of amazement fell passed her lips.

"Draco, you must learn not to feel. You cannot become attached, especially not to this worthless thing!" Lucius hissed. "Steady your wand, Draco...you know the spell you must use."

A pause; a terrifying thumb of a heartbeat; a mere moment, a second; a flick of the wand.

"Avada Kedavra."