The Usual Suspects

It all made sense now. I could remember my mother being such a friendly woman when I was smaller, and then she had suddenly become so quiet and withdrawn. She was never cold to me, but upon reflection it seemed like I was the only one.

She and Father hadn't spent much time together, especially not time alone. They shared a room, a bed, but it never once occurred to me that I might walk into a room to see them kissing, or that he might reach across the table to touch her hand at supper. He never did. They never did.

I woke with these thoughts already moving through my mind. I rolled to my side, and pressed against a wall of heat. I opened my eyes.
Draco lay beside me, naked and sleeping. I slipped out of my clothes and crept beside him, laying my cheek against his shoulder. I felt so very little for life, for my past or future, but there was still my connection to Draco. As I lay, listening to the steady beat of his heart, I thought that I would be happy to die in his arms.

He shifted and I caught sight of the Mark on his arm. I stared at it, thinking. Had I been repulsed the first time I'd seen it? I couldn't remember. I closed my eyes as a vision flew into my mind. Flash of lightening illuminating the Dark Mark, roll of thunder as bare arms reached for me.

I shivered, though the room was not at all cold. I didn't want to do this again. One was enough, I wasn't ready, I couldn't handle it!

Draco opened his eyes. Pools of gray in a pale, pointed face, framed with white blond hair. I closed my eyes again, but the eyes remained, colder, lined at the corners. "No," I protested.

* * *

"Has your Father told you nothing?"
"No...I mean...Father, what does he..."
"Father can't answer for you, child. Now answer, or Mummy may get hurt again. Wouldn't that be a shame?"
His eyes showed none of the false concern in his voice. They were so cold, and I was afraid of him. I looked at Father, but he was silent and still. We were in the family room this time, as if they were just guests, but I knew better. Guests didn't come at night, when the wind howled and lightening flashed. They had taken advantage of the stormy season. The dark and the noise were a cover.
Lucius stood and gestured to my father. Father shook his head, and Lucius directed his wand toward me. I began to cry, terrified, but this time Father came to me. He knelt before me, and with a glance up at Lucius, began to roll up the sleeve on his left arm.
"We are Purebloods," he said in a strangled voice. "Only the law, created by those jealous of our God-given talents, prevents us from ruling this world, as is our right."
A clap of thunder shook, and I screeched, drawing my feet onto the chair. Mummy wasn't here tonight. When Father had called me downstairs, she was nowhere to be seen.
The thunder died down, and Father continued. "Some...blood-traitors wish to see us in service to those God Himself did not see fit to give magical abilities. Does that seem right to you?" I didn't respond. "God gave us magic. He didn't give it to Muggles. Doesn't that make us better?"
I was five! I didn't really understand! Everything he said made so much sense because it was him saying it!
I nodded, and Father turned his arm to me. A flash of lightening illuminated a twisting shape there, a snake writhing out of the mouth of a skull. Thunder crashed around me, and I wrapped my arms around my legs, terrified.
Lucius approached, leaning over Father. "You're frightening the girl, Eliot," he drawled.
Father pried my hands from my legs and forced my head up. "It's only a mark," he said.
I could hear thunder rolling in the distance.
"A sign that I'm doing all I can to see that we don't lose our power. It's not wrong to go after what you want."
I nodded, eyes wide. Father stood, and Lucius made a quick gesture to a large man near the door to the kitchen. The man opened the door, and another man entered, Mummy slung over his shoulder. He walked to the couch and dropped her onto it.
I screamed in horror! Her face was mangled, eyes wide and unseeing. There was blood, blood on my Mummy! Oh God, the thunder and blood on Mummy's face!
Lucius's arms were around me, holding me from running. The thunder died, but my screams went on. He whispered to me. "Hush, child, hush." He held me so tight, and I was afraid, afraid as his hand cupped my chin that he was going to snap my neck. "Mummy will be alright," he crooned.
"Ennervate," Father said, and light came into Mummy's eyes. She saw me and tried to sit, but she was hurt, and so weak!
Lucius spoke to me, a low drawl in my ear. "Mummy was bad, sweeting. She's been trying to give power to filthy, undeserving Muggles. Mummy had to be punished, is all."
I shook in his arms. He let me go and stood with a snap. A man picked Mummy up and took her back to the kitchen. Lucius swiveled to look at me. Something in his eyes sent fear through my spine. Those eyes turned to Father. "Good evening," he said, and left, the others following close behind.
I told myself that I wasn't going to forget this time, but I couldn't think about it now. I couldn't think about it later, either.

* * *

"I told you not to play with them!"
"But we were just..."
"I told you, MarySue, and you did it anyway!"
"But..."
"Do you know what they are?!"
"What, Father, I..."
"MUDBLOODS! All of them! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers!"
I clutched a bag of Gobstones and cried as Father raged at me in the dark kitchen. Darlene and Gerry Percival had walked me home, and somehow Father had found out.
"I suppose you didn't notice the...what was it...the car in front of the house, or that their parents..." He broke off. There was a knock at the door. I began to cry. Not tonight, I prayed.
It was them. I crouched behind the counter island in the center of the kitchen, but felt myself hauled up by the back of my collar. "Your Father says you've been naughty," Lucius said, his breath tickling my ear. I sobbed, hiccoughing loudly.
"No!" I screamed.
"Yes, and you knew this would happen, didn't you?"
"No!"
I was dragged down the cellar steps, trying to twist away. At the bottom, all I could see through my struggle was bare arms reaching for me as the door slammed. It sounded like thunder.
"Hold her..."
"Crucio."
I was blinded by the pain, I wanted to die! I screamed, but nobody held me, nobody told me it would be all right. My skin was on fire, and I cried, but I couldn't hear myself through the pain!
It stopped, and I curled onto my side, drawing my knees to my chest. I was lying on the table, sobbing.
"You'll be more careful with whom you choose to associate now, won't you, child?"
I couldn't nod, couldn't. There was nothing but the pain, and though it was fading, it was still too much to bear.
"Leave her." It was Father. They were leaving me, all of them.
The light went off.

* * *

"Keep your grades up and you may get a surprise for Christmas this year," Mum said. She glanced at Father, who, as usual, was rather quiet. He gave Mum an approving nod, and she smiled at me, pride evident in her eyes.
I wondered what it could be. Surely they weren't going to get me anything too expensive. Father was doing well enough at the Ministry, but with Mum staying home, just visiting over break was enough for me.
Mum gave me a secretive wink. "And who knows, you may get to invite a friend as well!" Father cleared his throat, and Mum pressed the handle of my trunk into my palm. Father had approved of all my friends since I was 5, but he always seemed cold to them at first.
"I love you, Mary," Mum said, and pulled me into a tight hug.
"I know, Mum," I laughed, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
I looked at my father, looked into eyes just like mine, and smiled. "Bye," I said simply.
He rested his hand on my shoulder. "Make me proud."
I nodded, then turned to the Hogwarts Express, dragging my trunk after me. I hefted it inside and turned to my parents once more. I waved at them, then shouted, "I love you too, Mum!" She smiled, and I hefted my trunk up the stairs, then down to the nearest empty compartment.
I smiled to myself. I'd had a great summer, and I couldn't wait to tell Cho all about it, though she'd heard most everything from my letters...

* * *