Surviving Through You | D.M x Y/N |

CHAPTER ONE

Y/N's POV

I wake with a start—a gasp escaping my lips, sweat dripping from my forehead. I take a moment to gather myself and figure out where I am. Not at the orphanage anymore, that's for certain. I'm at Malfoy Manor. I breathe for a bit, trying to calm myself, before pulling back the curtains. It's always so dark here. I'm beginning to grow tired of it.

I look around for Bella, but she's nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she's off to work again. She's been awfully busy this week. Another secret meeting, no doubt. If leaving me alone in this strange place is what she thinks is best, then why on earth didn't she just leave me at the orphanage?

I still remember when Bella showed up at the orphanage, searching for me. It was almost a week ago now. I read in the Daily Prophet that she'd escaped, but I never thought for a second she'd come looking for me. I thought she'd forgotten all about me.

But there she was—standing in the doorway of the building, soaked to the bone in the rain, that terrifying, high-pitched laugh screeching from her throat. The cries of children still echo in my mind. But the moment she stepped through that door, I recognised her.

And then she had the nerve to call me, "Daughter."

Daughter?

After everything I've endured because of her, she still thinks she has the right to call me that? Turns out she came to take me with her, promising me a better life. And this... this is supposed to be it.

Living in Malfoy Manor, treated like a guest no one cares about—including the woman who calls herself my mother. Here I am, waiting for the Dark Lord to hand me some kind of responsibility.

But I accepted it. What else could I do? It's at least better than being stuck in that crumbling old orphanage. And Bella made it quite clear that if I didn't agree, she'd simply abduct me anyway. I didn't really have a choice in the matter, did I?

Last night, Bella filled me in on what my "responsibility" might entail. She said I wouldn't be alone in this. I'll have to share it with the infamous son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy—Draco Malfoy.

Speaking of which, I haven't seen him once this entire week. Bella claims we played together as toddlers, before she was captured and I was sent to the orphanage. But I don't remember playing with him. I can hardly even recall his name. We grew up in completely different worlds. He went off to Hogwarts, and I went to whatever wretched schooling was available at the orphanage.

But now, thanks to my dear mother, I have to go to Hogwarts too. Just brilliant. At least I don't have to start in the first year, I suppose.

My stomach growls loudly, reminding me of my hunger. Ugh. I haven't eaten a thing yet. The dark clouds outside have gathered, making the manor feel eerily quiet. I wonder where Bella's gone off to. But again, my stomach growls—louder this time—insisting on my attention.

Sighing, I leave the room in search of something, anything, to fill the emptiness in my belly.

***

Bella and Cissa walk in silence through the streets. The weather is biting cold, the rain pouring down in sheets, and their breaths are warm puffs in the frosty air. They move with practised ease, careful to avoid drawing attention to themselves, watching for anyone who might spot them.

"Cissy, you can't do this. He cannot be trusted," Bella says.

"The dark lord trusts him," Narcissa replies.

"The dark lord's mistaken," Bellatrix says again, to which Cissa laughs.

At last, they arrive at the door they've been seeking. A single knock, and Peter Pettigrew's filthy face appears.