Abused Massacre

Chapter 11 : Notes and tears

“Pansy, get off me!” He snapped.
“Draco, I know you want me.”
“No, really I don’t.”
“Well you know that your father and the Dark Lord want you to want me.” She said slyly. He froze looking at her with a stunned look.
“My father will not get what he wants and neither will the Dark Lord.” He managed to spit out.
“They won’t be happy Draco. And I don’t want to see you get hurt.” She said sincerely.
“Pansy, will you just mind your own business and get off of me.” He said as he shoved her off. Standing, he retreated to the empty Head’s compartment. Sitting by the window he watched the rain as he brooded.
Does she know something that I don’t? Father knows that I will not join him in his quest for power. I will fight with every ounce of my being to repel his evil spirit. Never will I join sides with someone or something that wants to kill innocent people.
Looking out to see platform nine and three quarters pulling into view, he wiped all thoughts out of his head. He had long ago managed to teach himself Occlumency, wanting to hide his true beliefs and thoughts from his menacing father. Practicing first with various house elves, he began feeding his father false images of wickedness and hate.
Stepping off the train with his trunk floating behind him, he was greeted by his beautiful mother. She was dressed in a long black winter cloak and black pointy toed boots. Her dirty blonde hair was splayed over the dark material. She smiled at him and opened her arms for a hug.
“Mum…” he mumbled embarrassed, as she tenderly embraced him. She was also a follower of the Dark Lord but had become less and less involved after Draco was born. By the time he had turned seven, she had stopped answering his calls all together to devote all her time to her child. Despite her decreasing interest in the Dark lord, all through out his life she had impressed upon him his influences but had never demanded Draco’s loyalty to her former master.
“C’mon, my little dragon let us hurry home. Your father was not able to come, for he was called by our master.” She said with a sad smile as she ushered him briskly off the platform. Draco felt his body stiffen and his face became that of stone. He had known since the Dark Lord started making reappearances that his mother had grieved for his father. He was rarely home and his mood had become very temperamental.

Once inside the manor he looked around at the cold dark walls. A large decorated Christmas tree stood in a corner nearly touching the high ceiling. He headed straight for his room leaving his mother to bustle to the kitchens calling for all the elf’s to prepare dinner. Entering the familiar room, he placed his trunk next to the large black desk. There was a large fire crackling in the hearth. A small Christmas tree had been placed next to it. Flopping down on the leather couch in front of the fire, he stared deep into it.
“Excuse me, sir” came a small voice. He turned to a despicable looking elf.
“What.” I really should be nicer to it, he thought.
“Mrs. is wanting you sir. In the dining room.” It said as it bowed and looked at the floor.
“Fine. Tell her I’ll be there after I wash up.”
“Yes, sir.” It said as it scurried off.
Hauling himself off the overstuffed piece of furniture, he lumbered into his large black bathroom. Splashing his face with water, he looked at his dripping face in the mirror. Making a face at himself, he grabbed a towel and wiped the remaining droplets of water away. Pulling a comb from a drawer, he straightened his hair and proceeded out of his room.
His mother was waiting for him at the large table. Only two settings had been set out. He sat directly across from her, leaving the head of the table empty. She stared at his face.
“Is something ailing you my dearest?” She asked in a sweet voice. He had always preferred his mother’s presence to his father’s. She was much more understanding and genuinely caring. He didn’t think that she would understand what was troubling him this time though. She would not approve of his choice to not join the Dark Lord or his acquirement of a muggle born girlfriend.
“No mum. The train ride was just seemed incredibly long and tedious today. I think I’m getting old.” He said with a smile.
“Oh my little dragon, always the joker.” She said with a small chuckle. Finishing dinner with friendly conversation Draco excused himself from the table and retreated to his room.
Turning on the bath he waited for the large tub to fill. The faint white lines in the black marble quickly disappeared under the mounds of white bubbles. Silver faucets spewed out various liquids filling the room with a fresh masculine scent. Turning off the water, he stripped off his robes and slipped into the steaming water. He let the aromas engulf him as he closed his eyes and leaned his head against the edge of the tub.
Thinking back to his pleasant bathtub encounter with Granger he smiled. Heaving a great sigh, he wished that he had never left her in the first place. Perhaps he would go back early after Christmas was over. The holiday was only in two days. He would simply tell his mother that he needed to get back to the castle and use the library to study for N.E.W.T.s. How is it that he couldn’t bear to be away from her for more than a day? They had only started tolerating each others presence a mere month or so ago. Love had poisoned his heart.
Taking up a towel, he climbed out of the cooling water. Crossing the room, he grabbed a large terry cloth bathrobe and went to sit at his desk. He scribbled a note on a scrap of parchment.
How is it that I already miss you?
Rolling up the sentence, he beckoned for his owl to hop to him. The ever obedient bird came to his service. Attaching the roll to its leg he gave it a pet and received a soft hoot in return.
“Give this to Hermione.” Hearing another hoot of affirmation, he walked the animal to the window. Opening the glass the bird immediately took off. Putting on a pair of black scrubs he sat in front of the crackling fire. He called for an elf.
“Sir?” it asked timidly.
“Do you think that you can arrange for me to have a trip to Diagon Alley tomorrow?” He asked.
“Yes, sir. Of course.” Looking at the elf, he thought of Hermione.
“What is your name, elf?” He questioned. The elf looked startled and nervous.
“Libby, sir.” It said crumpling the dirt covered old uniform in its boney little hands.
“Are you a girl?”
“Yes, sir.” She said meekly.
“Libby, please tell all the elves that you are to wash your uniforms until they look like they are new.” He said softly. He would have given them all new uniforms himself, but knew that would set them free and make them miserable. Deciding that he would try to be nicer to his elves for Hermione, he gave the scared elf a warm smile.
“Yes, sir.” She said with a surprised tone in her squeaky voice as she ran away. Sitting back, he stared into the fire entering a daze. The warmth surrounded him. A soft taping came from the window. He immediately let his owl in. Eagerly he untied the scroll.
Because our souls have become one.
Smiling, he grabbed another slip of parchment.
Oh is that so, Granger? You think that you can have part of my body?
He rolled the paper up and tied it to the owl who waited patiently for him to finish.
“To Granger.” He said as he watched the magnificent bird depart for a second time. He waited anxiously for her reply to his cocky remark. Within minutes he saw the shadow of the owl swooping towards his open window. With a swish it landed softly on his bed next to him. Hastily he took the scroll feeling like he was five again and secretly passing notes in the classroom under the professor’s nose.
Silly boy, I own your body.
The little witch! He could smell her lotion on the parchment. She must have just taken a shower. Holding the parchment to his nose he inhaled deeply desperately trying to suck up all of her. What was he becoming? A pathetic love stricken little prat who sat around waiting for his girlfriend to write him secret notes. Taking a last slip of paper he scribbleed down his words.
I love you.
“I promise this’ll be the last one then you can go hunt.” He said to the owl who had an annoyed look in its round yellow eyes. Hooting indignantly it swooped out of the room only to come back minutes later with another scroll.
I know.
“That’s it?” He said flipping the parchment over to find nothing. A little crestfallen he watched as his owl swiftly left the room before he could send it on another errand. With a sigh he closed the window and climbed into bed. Staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t think of anything but her. Drifting off, he was disturbed by a loud irritated tapping on his window.
“What the fuck?” He grumbled as he groggily rolled off his bed. Slumping over to the window a snowy white owl glided in. He recognized it as Potter’s. It held out one leg for him to take the parchment. Gently untying it, Potter’s bird gave a soft hoot and swept out of his room. Unrolling the message it was a dazzling picture of Hermione beaming at him. It gestured for him to turn her over. Turning it over, he read her note with a smile.
I love you too.
Placing her picture on his bed side table he turned out the light and promptly fell asleep.

Two days later he sat around the large tree with his mother. His father had not come home. He sat on the large overstuffed couch while his mother handed him numerous gifts from under the tree. He cared little for the material things that his parents bought for him, but put on an act of great appreciation.
On his trip to Diagon Alley he had purchased a small slate that produced any potion that was desired. He had sent his owl that morning with the gift to Hermione. When his owl returned it held yet another package. Hermione had sent him the peculiar silver discs that he recognized as CDs. She had written him a little message.
Malfoy:
I love the slate! It will come in handy when I’m doing my muggle/magical medicine research. But anyways, I thought that you being so far and all, that you’d miss my muggle music. If you point your wand at one and say ‘intransitivano’ it will play the songs that you want. I can’t wait to see you again. I miss you.
~Hermione
Along with the CDs she had sent a small piece of rubber wrapped in two pieces of square plastic. A condom, it was the best part of the gift. She gave him what he wanted most; herself.
“Draco,” his mother said with a worried look on her face.
“Yes mum? What’s wrong?”
“I was wanting to go see my sister in Sweden for a few days. I received an owl from her elf that she has fallen ill and I miss her terribly and I thought that maybe since your father doesn’t seem to be coming home for the holidays I would go visit her.” She said with a hopeful note in her voice. Oh no. I hope she doesn’t want me to come along he thought. “Would you mind terribly if you stayed here for a few weeks by yourself?” Phew.
“Oh. Well maybe I’ll head back to Hogwarts then. I have to use the library to study for N.E.W.T.s anyways. This works out the best for the both of us.” This is working out perfectly he thought.
“Perfect. Get good marks so you can become a wise and powerful wizard, my little dragon.” She said with a smile. If only she knew that he wanted to become and Auror. “I’ll be sure to tell your aunt that you wish her well.” Standing up she gave him a kiss on the cheek. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something running towards him. It was Libby.
“Mrs., an owl delivered this in the kitchen for you.” She said slightly out of breath as she turned and hurried back to her original place. He noticed that her uniform had in fact been cleaned until it shown white once again. Returning his attention to his mother, he watched she open the parchment. Her eyes zoomed across the paper fast enough to rival Hermione’s. He watched in alarm as he saw his mother crumble to the floor.
“Mum! What is it!” he asked. Silent tears streamed down her beautiful face. He hurried to her side and took her in his arms. “The Dark Lord,” she said through a small sob into his shoulder. “Murdered your father.” She finished with a small hiccup. Taking the parchment from her quaking fingers he read the news himself. Anger boiled in him.
Despite his dislike for his father, he was still his father. His blood ran through his veins. Letting the sheet fall to the floor, he cradled the trembling widow.
“I will avenge his death mum. I promise you.”
“No! He will kill you too and I wouldn’t be able to bear that. A parent is not supposed to bury her child. That is not the right order of things” she sobbed harder. Frowning, he said no more. “I will go to your aunt in the morning.” She wept. Lifting her now fragile body in his arms, he carried her to her quarters. Placing her in the soft bed, he covered her.
“Libby” he called. He heard soft quick footsteps.
“Yes sir?”
“Please get my mother a sleeping potion from the potions pantry. Quickly.”
“Yes sir.” She said as she sprinted back. Within seconds she came back with her ears flying behind her. Panting, she handed Draco the small vial of clear liquid. Giving it to his agitated mother she pushed it away.
“Mum, you must take this if you want to travel tomorrow.” Reluctantly she took a small swig of it. He watched as her tear laden eyelashes fluttered and fell still. Libby was still at his side. Pocketing the vial, he turned to the elf.
“Have a nice holiday.” He said as he left her to watch her mistress sleep.
In the seclusion of his room he paced over the black throw rug.
“I will avenge his death.” He vowed to the empty room. Going to his bed he pulled out the potion and took a small quaff and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

The next morning he woke feeling oddly refreshed. Going to the bathroom to brush up and went to check on his mother. She was still soundlessly sleeping. Walking to a large bookshelf he pulled pick a large volume and sat in a chair by the window. After and hour of reading about snake bite remedies his mother began to stir. He quickly discarded the book and was at her side.
“Oh my protective little dragon.” She cooed looking up at him affectionately. “Don’t you worry, I will be fine. Are you trunks packed?”
“Yes mum.”
“Good. I shall be ready to leave within the hour.” She said as she pushed herself to a sitting position. He noticed that she was not dressed in the fancy attire that he had originally laid her down in. He figured that Libby must have put the more comfortable clothing on her Mrs. He did have to give the elf credit, she was very loyal. “I will apparate from here in an hour. Will you catch the Knight Bus, love?”
“Yes mum.” And with that she whisked off to her bathroom.
An hour later, he bid his mother goodbye as he watched her disappear with a small pop. Returning to his room he levitated his trunks and headed to the door.
“Libby” he called again.
“Yes sir?” She came running. He had taken quite a liking to the smallish elf.
“I am going back to school. My father has been killed and my mother is visiting her sister. Please watch over her when she returns.” He said shortly.
“Yes sir.” She said as she started to retreat.
“Oh and Libby?”
“Sir?” she said turning back around.
“Thank you.” He said and walked out the door leaving the astonished little elf to analyze his sudden kindness.