𝓐𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓹𝓱𝓸𝓫𝓲𝓪 ☽ 𝓡𝓮𝓶𝓾𝓼 𝓛𝓾𝓹𝓲𝓷

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓽𝔂 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓮𝓮

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗
❝ since we were kids ❞
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

𝓔𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓮'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 13th 1977

After everyone has left Malfoy Manor, including my reluctant friends, I make my way to the living room where I find my father.

"Have Lucius and Narcissa left already?" I ask sheepishly.

"Yes" He replies curtly.

"What of mother?" I add.

"In bed" He answers.

"I see" I frown deeply, knowing what comes next.

"So, this is the part where we fight?" I try to joke.

"Do you know how badly you embarrassed me tonight?" My father sneers, refusing to look up from his glass of bourbon.

"No" I shake my head.

"You're lucky I don't disown you for your retched behaviour" He tells me "Firstly you start a fight on school grounds and then you bring that fight here, into my home and on your brother's wedding day! Secondly, I find out that you're in some sort of twisted relationship with a measly halfblood!"

"It's not a big deal" I shrug with a frown.

"What did you just say to me?" He snaps.

"I said that it's not a big deal" I speak up clearly "He wasn't the first non pureblood that I've slept with and I doubt he'll be the last"

"You are a disgrace!" He roars at me, finally looking up.

"What, you don't like that?" I challenge him.

"Don't taunt me, girl" He snarls.

"I guess you don't like the fact your daughter has slept around, but it's not really something you can do anything about now" I laugh with no amusement at all "The amount of muggleborns and halfbloods that have been in my bed in unreal. Muggles too, father"

"Muggles?" He spits out in disgust.

"That's right" I nod, trying my best to put on a brave face.

I feel a strong hit to my face and I stumble back in surprise, holding my face with teary eyes. The man lifts his hand again and I flinch, causing him to smirk smugly. That's the thing about putting on a brave face, it doesn't actually make you brave.

"You make me sick" He scoffs, downing the rest of his drink before slamming the glass down on the table.

"What's new?" I retort.

My father grabs his wand and glares down at me through eyes filled with so much hatred and resentment that it brings tears to my eyes. I hate how he looks at me as though I'm a thorn in his side, merely a nuisance in his life that he is forced to deal with.

Most little girls were scared of the monsters under their beds or the ones that lived in the dark shadows of their closets, but not me. No, I was taught to never be afraid of the dark. What a silly fear, my father would say. I wasn't ever scared of the imaginary monsters, I was scared of the very real one that I have lived with my whole life. The man who narrows his eyes at me and lifts up his wand, causing my heart to drop in fear. I know what happens now.