Spare Me; Draco Malfoy

Mother

Every night, the same scene plays in my dreams. It's more of a nightmare I suppose. My mother was sprawled on the dark wooden floor of the kitchen, with a pool of blood by her head. At first, I froze and called out her name, hoping that she would be able to answer back. Of course she wouldn't, but I was in denial because she couldn't be dead, I thought. I had just seen her alive an hour before, when I hurried out the door to the nearby forest to practice my archery. She warned me not to be long or I'd get a cold, out in the chilly afternoon. 

If I had gone back to the house just minutes before, could I have saved her? I try to imagine ways of stopping whoever was responsible for murdering her.

My father went missing that same night. Although no one knows if he was also killed because there was no body found on the premises. Only his wand remained outside the porch of our home. Maybe he tried to fight the killer off. Maybe he was kidnapped for our money. It all just didn't make sense in my head. It's been two months now and I don't have any news from him.

After I found my mother, I spent a whole day in the house with her deceased body, trying to reverse the effects of the killing curse. I wanted to fix it, but my magic was not enough to bring her back. Any healing spell that I learned in school was not useful, I knew that deep down, but I didn't want to accept it. After trying for 24 hours, I gave up and went to my godmothers for help.

Her death was left up to the ministry of magic. I watched and hid for three days, up on a high grassy hill top as they were going in and out of our manor, having confused faces. On the last day, her body was wrapped up in a black plastic zip up bag as if she were nothing. A mere normal occurrence for the detectives of the ministry. Ultimately, they were leaning toward it being an intrusion since the whole house was ransacked of all things valuable. They also found out that the last spell from my fathers wand was not of the killing curse, but the last spell he used was a disarming charm. I could hear the detectives from the hilltop with a sound enhancing spell I cast.

Now, I sit here in the home of my godmother and her wife, who are pure blood witches. They are the Thornburn's, recently married and have no children. Cordelia, my godmother, is an old friend of my father's and he chose her to be a part of my life from my age of two.

I didn't have anyone else to turn to, my father's parents were out of the picture my whole life. They were ashamed that my father got a muggle pregnant and wanted nothing to do with it. I was a disappointment to their pure bloodline. Moving to Greece was their solution and forgetting that they had a son or a granddaughter.

I look around my room, in my godmothers Victorian manor, taking in the coldness of the wooden floors against my exposed legs. My luggage is placed between them, with an assortment of clothes and materials for the new school year.

The thought of having to show myself at Hogwarts for my fifth year brings me pure pain. I know I'll get pitiful looks, stares, and concerned faces. All of which I do not want.

The Daily Prophet did write a column on how the ministry was unsure on how to handle the situation. It was a murder, but there was no suspect or evidence to link anyone. Since my father comes from old wealth, people knew his name. People in the wizard world whispered to each other as they saw me out in public.

Poor girl. Maybe she did it. She's covering for someone. She knows the truth.

As I finish up packing, I place a portrait of my mother in my suitcase, I look at her dark brown eyes one last time before zipping my luggage shut. She will always look over me. I know she will, at least that's what she told me, something about our souls becoming spirits. Maybe she's in this room now, it's just that I don't see her. "If you're here mum, I beg you to please show me a sign. Anything," I talk into the empty space in front of me.