Stronger Than Silver

Overthinking: Generational Trauma

They say that life takes a turn for the better as it progresses, that the mental infirmities of adolescence will vanish thought by thought, scar by scar. They assure that the inescapable gloomy storm cloud of depression will float away in a year or two, that the dark thoughts revolving around life or death will dissipate as youth kisses us goodbye. Most of all, they promise that the unsolvable complications that chase you throughout your life will improve with time. It is all in the belief that time can heal all wounds, that growing up will help you forget all the trauma that haunted you throughout your teenage years.

Does it ever get better, though? Does it?

That night, Lucius lay on the king-sized bed that once housed two companions. He gazed up at the ceiling, endless thoughts running without end in his headspace. After all that happened with the Dark Lord, Narcissa herself had sunk back into her black hole. She occupied the guest rooms of the Manor, sulking and drinking herself into oblivion. Bottles and bottles of empty alcohol cracked open and littered the floors of the Manor that were once tidy. Ever since her husband's imprisonment in Azkaban, she had never been the same as before. It seemed like her old problems from Hogwarts had resurfaced in her life again.

It was as if that all her life, Narcissa's job was to hold her loved ones together when they wanted to tear apart. Narcissa tried to keep her sisters, Andromeda and Bellatrix, together. Even as they went about their individual lives, she kept in contact with them. Of course, she always had a close sisterhood with Bellatrix, but she also kept up with Andromeda despite her betrayal. With secret visits and owling here and there, Narcissa checked up on her older sister to know what was going on in her life as the wife of Ted Tonks. Now her family was tearing apart again. Lucius had lost what puny facade he had in the beginning, and Draco was likely suffering. Both had withdrawn from the family, and at last it was Narcissa's turn.

I don't know what I want. I don't know what I wanted before all of this. I don't even know who I am.

What if his entire life was a great joke disguised as the being of a declining aristocrat? Even after searching through memories of his childhood so frighteningly crystal clear, Lucius could not trace what he wanted in the beginning exactly. What did he want? Did he truly want to please his father and the dozens of other people in his life, or did he pursue such atrocities for his own selfish reasons? What does he want now?

Am I selfish?

Was he? Lucius had tried to be a good, selfless person. It was why he had sacrificed so much to please his parents and to help those who were suffering around him. It seemed that all his efforts had gone to waste when he abandoned the chains that held him down and began to carry out his facade. He became the person his father always wanted him to be. Cold, powerful, and formidable. Lucius had done everything to please others at the cost of his health and happiness.

I cannot blame my father for my problems. In the end, the only person who did this to me was myself.

He was the one who had chosen to be a people pleaser. No one forced him to, but Lucius chose his life path on his own will. Sure, his father manipulated and belittled him, but he chose to listen to him. He chose to become the person his father wanted him to be even though he knew full well that his father was not a person worth obeying or respecting.

At the same time though, I was still a child. A child with little awareness of who to listen to and what was wrong or right. The only guidance I had was my father. Who else could I listen to?

He was just confused. So confused. His mind was fighting against his conscience while he lay in the darkness. It was almost as if his mind was trying to either defend or refute what his conscience was telling him.

Merlin, I'm overthinking everything.

Was he selfish for being a people pleaser? It made no sense at all. Being a people pleaser meant one put others' needs before their own. If people call that selfish, what kind of dimension do we live in?

It was nothing less than the truth that people pleasing could hurt oneself and so many others. Perhaps that was why it was selfish.

I'm sorry I was never good enough for you, Father.

The same could be said from Draco's perspective, Lucius realized. Draco, too, had tried to please his father but to no avail.

It was my fault for letting it happen again.

In all honestly, there was no excuse for what he did to his son. Lucius had tried to raise Draco in nearly the same vile fashion his father did, although not exactly that terribly.

Contrary to popular belief, Lucius rarely struck his son with the snake cane unless they were in public, and Draco required severe discipline.

However, the perfection-oriented ideals Lucius had enforced into the adolescent's head were revolting. Blood status, wealth, class, power, academics, appearance, and behavior were only some examples.

Then he had manipulated him to become a death eater. A fucking death eater.

All because he was too much of a coward to fight for the freedom of his son.

Lucius' parenting was all a projection of his own insecurities onto his son, who was likely as vulnerable as he was.

How had I not realized it? How did I allow myself to do this to the child I swore to protect and treasure like my father never did?

The last thing he wanted was for Draco to become like him and for him becoming as abusive as his father was to him, but it had happened. He had projected what his father intended to do to him onto Draco. He had manipulated him, had made him feel unworthy in attempts to better him.

It was only inevitable that history repeats itself time and time again, right?

Lucius wished something could have changed it all.

He just wanted it all to end. The pain. And oh, the guilt. The horrible, horrible guilt.

I'm sorry, Draco, for failing you.