Chapter Text
“Sons are the anchors to a mother’s life” - Sophocles
3rd August 1996
My head was pounding viciously and my eyes had a hard time focusing, with the intense legilimens training with Bellatrix. My knees felt raw and swollen after kneeling on the Persian rug for hours and hours. She had even forbidden all of our elves to assist me saying that it helps to build my resolve. Well, except for little Mipsy, niece of the old Kreacher and a house elf of the ancient Black house, who had been secretly gifted to my mother on her wedding day by none other than the infamous Sirius Black. Our house wards too failed to provide any kind of protection, considering that she dismantled all those historic intricate warding patterns to accommodate the exquisite dark magic. All in all, me and my mother have become prisoners within our own home.
I caught the fuzzy image of Greyback posing languidly on the marble countertop, Rabastan stretched on the plush red couch along with several other deatheaters, all laughing at my expense. Mocking their hosts, the “Malfoy family”. I wanted to curl up in a ball, and cry my eyes out for all the unfairness within it. This was too much to handle, after seeing my mother last evening.
Uncle Sev had finally come up with a long term cure to reduce the lasting effects of the combined imperius and cruciatus on a person. This was a trial and error method and one wrong ingredient or one extra dose could ruin her entire life, but we were both at wits end. It had been his suggestion from the beginning, considering that both of us were unable to stop her being tortured on a daily basis. After he lost Lily Evans (He still refuses to call her Lily Potter), Uncle Sev lived a life of celibacy, closing upon himself and putting up boundaries between him and others. My mother was the only one who was able to chip away at his walls. It also helped that they both shared a common ground; losing their loved ones to the lunacy of the all-consuming dark magic. His affection for my mother grew each day and outgrew the friendship bounds, when I climbed aboard the Hogwarts’s train. It was painful to overlook these swirling emotions and took several years for me to heal the wounds of betrayal she cast upon me. It was a specifically on a particular day in the third year I realized, that doing your utmost to help the ones you love, is the best thing in the world. That’s when I decided to overlook all these, hoping that he would be able to free her from her miserable married life from time to time.
The potion was filled into a batch of five vials and brought to the Manor, hidden within his massive flighty robes. Unlike me, Uncle Sev was granted permission to enter her chamber, considering he was the only talented healer within the circle of mutts. Mipsy vowed that she stayed by, until mistress Malfoy took all her potions. It proved to be correct when mother appeared at the dinner table looking much more like herself, wearing a long green dress with the hair dressed in a loose chignon. Lunch had been a quiet affair, but much more pleasant than the previous occasions, with her listening more attentively to my stories. She even managed a short laugh when I berated Granger for being a know-it-all in all the classes. I wanted her to retire to the chambers after lunch, but she was adamant on going for a short walk along the red rose bed, planted by her own hands few years ago. I conceded defeat here, but internally I was jumping in joy. Ever since the dark lord entered the manor, my mother retracted herself into a deep black void and my father set out to emptying the Malfoy cellar stocked 100 years ago. Until this moment, she had never wanted to do anything by herself except for eating and sleeping. But it had been too early to hope.
All our plans went down the hill when Mipsy appeared suddenly at the dinner parlour with a verbal invitation addressed to me, from the dark lord, to attend an evening tea party at OUR own guest parlour along with several of his high ranking death eaters. My father had fallen out of grace, to the point of not receiving an invite to the so-called tea party. The irony of it was never lost on him and always opted to waste away the time by reacquainting himself with the expensive Ogden’s bottles.
But last evening was a tad different and horrific in its entirety.
It commenced with a bad start, when the Dark lord placed his undivided attention on me.
As soon as I entered the parlour, my vision was maimed by the sight of all kinds of unsavoury beasts; from the pale vampires to the ghastly looking werewolves who tracked muddy foot trails all-over. The gathering was too silent for my taste while the air was heavy with unbridled emotions of fear, anger, confusion, disgust and perverse satisfaction. The fear for my life overbore the bravery I adopted minutes ago, my trembling legs nearly flipping over. The red eyes that bore into mine, seemed to glisten with unbridled joy while his long pale fingers were wrapped around his wand which pointed at a writhing mess of flesh at his feet.
“Draco Malfoy! What a pleasure!!” his enthusiastic voice dripping with sarcasm, rang across the silentious room. I looked at his face and recognized immediately that my reply was unnecessary. He has once again entered my mind effortlessly, possibly disappointing my occulmens tutor standing at the corner (which was actually much less painful than Bellatrix). This was something I was rather good at. Being a disappointing failure at everything I possibly could.
After a few seconds he withdrew and beamed at Bellatrix.
“Bellatrix, you have raised your nephew rather well, given the circumstance.”
“Thank you My Lord, you are very generous!!” she shrieked with glee and bowed deeply at the half blood maniac. The irony of a “pureblood woman”, coming from an old family name, kneeling at the feet of a halfblood with arms outstretched was not lost on the dark lord, as he replied with a smirk which would have given the Zabinis a run for their money. But all too soon, it vanished, only to be replaced with an inhumane grin which his lips strained widely to accommodate.
All his visitors stood up, seeing that he was already moving forward, away from the dreaded throne, towards the snivelling mess huddled at the epicentre of the room. It was probably a mugg- mudblood caught by a snatcher from a nearby muggle town. He kicked it roughly repeatedly, in the stomach, waiting for it to open the eyes. It was animalistic, inhumane and….
It was as if he caught my wandering stray thoughts……
Time stood still as his eyes slowly shoot upwards and latched on to mine…..
1, 2, 3….
“Draco, can you see what my snatchers have gotten me?” I intercepted with a barely there nod.
The next few seconds were a blur, while I was crucioed a multiple times. When I got up, everything was the same, except that I was slightly swaying on my feet and several drops of blood was running free. My head was throbbing with a dull pain when I felt two corporeal hands slowly squeezing the life out of me. Alarmed, I looked up to see that the Dark lord had reclaimed his throne.
I had clearly offended him and he wished to make a lesson out of me. Hastily, I fell on my knees to beg for his forgive, only to realize I was late. Too late in fact.
“Yaxley, Fetch my guinea pig from the chambers!”
Yaxley stood up brushing imaginary lint from his threadbare black robes, sneering at me, on the way out.
Guinea Pig?? Who was it this time? It can’t be RIGHT??? Oh! No!! He can’t possibly mean….
“My lord!! Forgive me for my impertinence. I promise-”
The thumping sound of heavy boots stopped my beg-
“Walk fast, you good-for-nothing filthy bitch”, accompanied by the distinct sound of a painful whimper.
I whipped around to see that Yaxley held MY MOTHER, by her neck and was dragging her roughly towards me. Fear ran unreservedly along my nerves, constricting my heart rather painfully. He dropped her right next to me, her frail body failing to cushion the fall. My ears felt too numb to register anything except for the Lubdublubdublub- resonating from within.
Eyes glistening with unshed tears her hands reached out to me only to be slapped away by an instantaneous wandless hex from Bellatrix.
Bellatrix was panting loudly disrupting the pin-drop silence. She looked to be wilder than usual, with all of her occulumens shields in disarray. The inherited black madness within her, thrived in the proximity of the dark lord. She seemed to be of a conflicting mind, her wild black eyes darting from me to my mother in rapid progression. Her eyes promised retribution for both of us before composing herself enough to meet the wrath of the dark lord.
“I truly beg your forgiveness, My Lord” she bowed low to the dark lord, the shaking hands clutching on to her gaudy black dress.
The dark lord remained stoic until she stood back. Her face showed clear defeat, but her posture never wavered while she stood tall and rigid in front of him. The black sisters were indeed made of strong blood. She was crucioed for a painstakingly long period of time, her astonishing display of endurance and restraint only promising more punishments for the both of us. At the end, Bellatrix stood up gracefully and bowed again.
“Bellatrix you have disssappointed me greatly.” I flinched a bit at his parseltongue influenced dialect.
“Please my Lord, give me one final chance to redeem myself and also my nephew for having such a pair of disappointing parents.” here, she spat for emphasis in my mother’s direction.
Uncle Sev had me under a langlock to prevent further escalation of this imminent disaster.
He tusked. “Indeed, Indeed”
“Do you all agree with Bellatrix?” A pin drop silence ensured.
This was one of the favourite games played by the dark lord. He would ask a trick question and based on his mood, the replier will either get a heavy torture or a valued promotion in ranks.
Only Rodolphus was brave enough to answer.
“Yes, My Lord”
Rodolphus and Bellatrix both hated each other’s guts but they both managed to show a united front, in the presence of the Dark lord. It was laughable at all times.
“Ah! I knew it. Rodolphus is my man. I have a more important task for you. Meet me at the study closer to midnight.” Lucius is going to empty the cellar at a faster rate.
“Bellatrix, you have always been my most loyal follower, but you have failed me now in every way possible.” he scratched his non-existent beard and looked at all three of us thoughtfully.
“Bella, you should prove me your loyalty, before I let you back into my circle.” eyes bridled with tears of shame, she nodded vigorously.
“Anything, my lord”, she gasped. “Anything for you.”
“Then prove me wrong. Show me the lengths you are willing to go for me. Show me how you intend to make a proper deatheater from our young Draco.” here he looked at me.
“Bella, I too had a very disappointing mother and I pity Draco for the same. In some ways, we both share similarities, Don’t we Draco?” he meant to sound sympathetic but instead it made my skin crawl with anger and disgust. Before I gave a cutting remark, Bellatrix butted in.
“Anything and everything you wish, My Lord.” Bellatrix clearly hated any sympathy towards me, especially by the dark lord. Gee, as if I wanted his untoward sympathies.
My mother was subjected to her vicious spells over and over again, until she could barely speak out the pain engulfing her whole body. Her body spasmed a multiple times before her hands gave out and she collapsed unconscious or?!. If she lived, it was entirely in thanks to Uncle Sev. If not, Lucius will see the real Draco Lucius BLACK close enough for a tantalisingly slow death. Mother opened her tired eyes and flicked them a bit, to ensure that she has not left me…. Yet. I guess Lucius can live for a bit longer.
This was dragging longer than I expected. It is high time for Uncle Sev to interrupt and conclude this meeting. Instead I saw him tapping his feet in a pattern which meant that he was waiting for something else. My worries were soon answered when I heard man lumbering into the parlour. If it was even possible, the Dark lord grew angrier, the dark magic oozing out of him engulfing me in a tight deathly embrace.
The squeaky clearing of a throat confirmed it all. It was Pettigrew of course.
“My Lord”, his voice was trembling with fear and adoration.
“NO, Don’t say another word.”
“Bellatrix, Yaxley and Pettigrew. Come to my study, We’ll discuss it there.” Robes billowing, he left the parlour taking away the suffocating influx of dark magic with him.
Sleep finally took over my troubled body.
I climbed the stairs as steadily as I can promptly passing out, after seeing the last person I ever expected, sitting nonchalantly on the green divan.
Theodore Nott and….. Nothing.
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I was standing atop a sprawling green meadows, stretching beyond the horizons. The air around me sounded so quiet but not unpleasantly though. In the distance I could spot a distinct mop of brown hair running towards me, waving the hands wildly. I had never felt so much freer in my whole life and yet something unnerving coiled in my lower gut. She was only a few feet away from me….. and I was completely baffled. Dressed in a periwinkle summer dress, she looked too beautiful to be true. Her contagious, excited babbling intensified the ringing in my head, and I woke up with a loud gasp.
Mipsy was smearing the murtlap essence hurriedly over the visible bruises, muttering to herself about her little master’s weakness and how ashamed she was to serve such a master. So much for the loyalty of house elves. I had been restrained to the bed through light bonding spells and a weak incarcerous that wove through both my ankles and wrists. My nose wrinkled in distaste at a memory ten years ago, when it had been Theo who was restrained to the bed to shove down a skele-grow potion, after an intense Quidditch practice game. Theodore sat directly in-front of me, flipping through the weekly witch magazine nonchalantly, ignoring my gasp altogether. I would certainly bid 50 galleons that Theo was internally laughing his head off at the reverse in our roles as his queer smirk was a dead giveaway. He had always been an egotistical bastard and he would always be. After a few seconds, seemingly done with the reading (considering that he always sneered at the said trash with disdain.) he gave me a dead stare, lifting a scrawny eyebrow.
His expressive eyes, upturned nose and the slight twitch in the jaw, spoke volumes, but no words were expressed. If I learned one thing from the short friendship with Theodore Nicholas Nott was, that his pride of being the only direct descendent of Percival Nott was way bigger than his oversized brain. His silent dare for me to speak first, resulted in our long foregone tradition of eye2eye stare, which I lost once again. Better to get over this really quickly, before Bellatrix sends Mipsy back to spy on me.
“What do you want Theodore?”
I winced at the end. Despite not uttering a single word to him in 10 years, I had never once called him Theodore.
“What do I want?”
He laughed at this a bit cruelly. This is something I had observed him develop, over the years a Hogwarts. It was his safe reaction to all uncomfortable situations.
“It’s not what I want Malfoy. It’s what you want.”
“You always worry me with your inability to understand any situation. How can you ever be a skilled deatheater, by being soo-”, rubbing imaginary stubble on his jaw, Theo was openly mocking me now. “-clueless?”
“I’m here to help you with the new task.”
Help me? How is he going to help me? Theo had never being strong willed to be a deatheater. He was definitely not a deatheater and will never understand how this all works.
The dark lord had told me in his strictest confidence that I was never to ask for the help of any other living being.Theo must’ve seen the myriad of emotions fleeting on my mind, as he snorted. Very ungracefully, might I add.
“Malfoy, I know how to jump around the loops in those conditions to you. You don’t need to know all the details.”
Who was this Theodore Nott? And what happened to the innocent nerdy Theo I knew 10 years ago?
“What do you mean by I don’t need to know? Of course, I need to know. You don’t know an iota of what the dark lord is capable of.”
“Malfoy, Malfoy, Malfoy”, his condescending voice grated my nerves, but I held on a strict poker face.
“Don’t be so bold enough to reject my help so quickly. Tell me, who else is willing to help you?”
Theo had long ago abandoned the comfort of the divan to grip my study table with tense hands.
“Who else???” “Blaise Zabini-”
“The Zabinis had always been always been a neutral party at conflicts. He definitely will not leave his widowed mother behind to help you or the Order.”
I opened my mouth but Theo beat me to it.
“And don’t even tell me that you were thinking about Crabbe and Goyle. God knows how much of their combined idiocy one can put up within a day.”
I sighed in agreement but refused to acknowledge it. Not a day but even one hour. Despite their many bad traits, Crabbe and Goyle had always been loyal to me.
“Really Nott? I expected better from you. I was obviously gonna say Severus Snape. Hopefully, HE is up to your standard.”
His cheeks tinted with a pink blush but soldiered on.
“Malfoy you are way more obtuse than I give you credit for. You should never ask for the help from any deatheater. That is the easiest source the Dark lord can tap into. He would never expect me to help you, considering our widely known animosity.”
I thought it over. There was no any valid reason to reject, except for the so-called animosity between us.
“Ok.”
“Ok?”
“Yeah ok. I don’t understand your-”, here I struggled with the right words to say. Goal? Ambition? Or was he sincere in this whole thing? “-motive for helping me, and I really don’t care…..” Really? his eyes seem to say. Yeah well, I may seem like a really cold person from outside, but I had always been a hard-boiled egg, too sensitive to handle any unbridled emotions. The Rom of requirement had always seen to that. “…as long as you listened to what I say.” I waited for any form of acknowledgment. Theo always had problems with listening to anyone else as he always believed that listening to his father an extra second longer, caused his mother to leave forever.
“Here’s the plan.”
Draco spent the next few hours left to spare, on making plans to secure a death-eater mark and to splurge the Malfoy galleons at the Borgin and burkes. The plan was formulated hastily with the indulgence of the ever-so-present Theodore Nott. The two young scions were thoroughly exhausted by mid-noon in the extravagant Malfoy library. Both sported tired eyes and piles of old tomes next to each other.
The Malfoys had always been in the lead to possess any sort of extravagant magical items but sadly, none were wise enough to research the finer aspects of magic. Perhaps except for one Miss. Gwenythine Malfoy, who later bestowed all her belongings to her godson Percival Nott. Percival Nott had always been a man of his own words and was rumoured to have spent his whole life within the massive library. He was despised by many of his bloodline for being lenient towards the people with muddied blood and thus his successor burnt down most of his research material. This initiated the first grudge between the Notts and the Malfoys, which grew in abundance over the 100 years that followed it.
Draco had always been a secret admirer of this great scholar but had never received imminent permission from either families to visit his library.
“Theo-”,
Not scrunched his nose annoyedly but showed no other sign of hearing the greeting. Times have changed so it seems. They had always been Theo and Drake to each other. But now…., it’s best to stick to the surnames they have been familiar with, over the few years at Hogwarts. Clearing his throat, he decided to get over this quickly, only to be outmatched by Theo himself.
“Malfoy, I haven’t got all day. Whatever you’ve got, just spit it out. ”
“Ah, Yes… Well”
Grey eyes met the steely blue eye of one angry Nott.
“Nott”
“Malfoy”, with more authority than necessary.
“Nott, I’m not sure that you would much like my plan. But this is the only way. Believe me, I’m not a big fan of this either”. Liar, he had always dreamt of going there.
“Okay, I’m all ears”, the voice wavering a bit at the end.
Smirking, he continued.
“Percival Nott had always been one of the only few elegant men on your bloodline, Nott”
A loud sigh, followed by a nod to continue.
“He managed to steal elegantly, one of the riches that belonged to us. And I fairly believe that we can find answer to this problem there”, Leaning back in the wooden oak chair, he observed his friend’s face leisurely. Scratch that, partner-in-crime.
“So, precisely what you are trying to imply, is that we are a bunch of thieves. Is that right?” the voice drawled out with undercurrents of anger swimming in them
“Not exactly.” he smiled. “But you can interrupt it anyway you want.”
Theo stood up, any traces of restraining his anger long gone. He slammed his hands on the table and gripped it tightly. His eyes were brimming with unbridled anger and mouth set tight in an angry frown, Theo looked to be just as the Nott senior except that he looked to be way younger.
“Malfoy.I.Am.Not.Your.Friend” he gritted out and inhaled deeply.
“Listen, whatever stupid notion you have in your head, just – just drop it. My father adores you. This was his idea all along”, he laughed humourlessly.
“Try to be like that Malfoy boy. GROW UP AND BE LIKE THE PROPER NOTT SCION YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BE, without ruining my life like you weak mother did”, he added mockingly.
“My mother had always been the only one who truly cared about me. There was a time that I used to think, that I actually had a real friend outside. But the ship sailed long time ago. ”
Both were on their feet now and it was now Draco who dug up the old grave now.
“What do you mean???” “I had always been there for you. YOU were the one who always pushed me away, mocked me in front of the common room and humiliated in me all ways possible”
“Always been there you?! Funny I rather remember you as the weak coward, who turned his back to me, the only time I truly needed his help.”
“Face it Malfoy! You have always been a selfish coward git. Never bothered about others. It was always about you. You. You and you. Remember the amount of windows you have broken at my place and the number of lashings I’ve had from my father each time?? You never stayed back ONCE, to check on me.”
Draco sat back stunned, wringing his hands helplessly.
“Malfoy, you have always been a pathetic coward. I truly pity your parents. But that’s not why I’m here.” taking a deep breath, he stepped a few feet back.
“As I said before, my father always disparages everything about my mother, to the point where I could not take it anymore. He burns down each one of the memories I have of her.” He sniffled a bit here and looked to be a little lost in thoughts.
“It won’t be long before he starts torturing me too, and I want to make sure that it will not come to pass.”
Nott continued his explanation after seeing the confusion blatantly displayed on Draco’s face.
“At my mother’s deathbed I promised to avenge her untimely death.”
I clearly understood what he intended to do, but respected him enough not to meddle in his own personal intentions.
“So, what is the connection between her, and you helping me” annoying me mostly.
“Father thinks that if I spend some time to assist you in your tasks, the dark lord will notice me as a potential deatheater. He believes that it is the only way to enter the higher ranking circle”
“Also, Malfoy, don’t even for one second forget how much of a pathetic coward you really are” with that Nott strode away towards the Floo, not willing to spend any extra seconds at the dark lord’s lair.
Draco was slumped over the chair dejectedly. Selfish. Pathetic. Coward. True, he was all of it, but yet it was the first time someone actually told that to his face. He had always been is mother’s precious boy, with nary a fault. His father had always muttered behind his back and had beaten him every holiday for being weak at academics. His aunt Bellatrix…... she had said many things to him but none of the above. He wanted to apologize for all of his faults, knowing that none will cover any grieving Theo went through. Yet, he found his tongue too tied for any words to spill. They were all latched at the back of his throat, shameful to come out and face the wrath of an angry wounded man.
Is this what it feel like to receive the Dementor’s kiss? All the hopelessness shrouding upon you, when you have nothing to give back…
Theo had long left the library and now was few feet away from the Floo point, when he heard the hearty laughs of a gathering of deatheaters close by. He had expended his magical energy, to engrave a point in Draco’s mind and now was only guided by nothing but the fear that uncoiled in his gut. He slipped into a nearby guest room in the hallway, wand drawn out in his shaking left hand. The rumours he heard of the amusing pastimes of the deatheaters, were not forgotten. His musing was interrupted by a man’s deep grunt from behind. He turned back and came upon a sight he wished he had never seen.
Draco was running down the staircase, two stairs at once. When the dark lord first came to their house, he wanted to completely change the outlay, to emphasize his ownership. Knowing this, he and his mother had woven their own hidden floo room behind her bedroom as a final failsafe for both. The main floo was always monitored by a rotating group of his loyal subjects, who always subjected the users to a fair bit of inane questions and torturing.
When he was rounding the hallway, he saw the distinct silhouette of Theo, ducking into a guest room at the far end. He was standing right outside the guest pavilion where mother was entertaining Yaxley and Avery. Yaxley eyes were constantly trained upon the partly opened. It was a risqué move to walk in front of that particular door since any sort of disillusionments had been banned within the manor. Avery was leering at his mother while she seemed to be oblivious of them both. With a simple wandless hex, Yaxley’s teacup rattled a bit, spilling a few splatters of tea on his deatheater robes. Yaxley always strived to be precise, even in his shabby state of clothing. This was a dark stain on his long-standing reputation and accompanied by Avery’s snickers which turned into full-blown laughter, Yaxley had exceeded his thinly stretched temper-line long ago. When Avery started to beg for forgiveness amidst howls of pain, Draco dashed in search of Theo.
The door of the particular guest room was slightly ajar and the silently cast homonium revelio revealed the presence of more than one.
What had Theo gotten into?
The hallway appeared deserted and silenitious, except for the distant whimpering from the guest pavilion. Draco slithered through the narrow space, only to be met with pale faced frozen-to-the-spot Theo and another being he had avoiding throughout the entire summer.
Not again, Theo.