Only Us Under the Castle [Drarry]

Dark Mark

Draco entered Malfoy Manor, the atmosphere inside as oppressive as the dark clouds looming overhead. The weight of the past week's events hung heavily in the air, and the silence was thick with unspoken accusations.

As he stepped into the dimly lit drawing room, he found his mother, Narcissa, sitting rigidly on an ornate chair, her face pale and drawn. Her eyes, usually so composed, now blazed with a mixture of anger and sorrow.

"Mother," Draco began tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper. "I—"

"Draco," Narcissa interrupted sharply, her tone cutting through the silence like a knife. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Draco flinched at her harsh words, his heart sinking. "I—I'm sorry," he stammered, unsure of how to begin explaining himself.

"Sorry?" Narcissa echoed, her voice rising in pitch. "Your father is in Azkaban, Draco! Because of your involvement with Harry Potter and his friends. Do you understand the gravity of that?"

Draco's stomach churned with guilt and shame. He took a step forward, but Narcissa's icy glare stopped him in his tracks. "I didn't mean for this to happen," he said, his voice trembling. "I was just trying to do what I thought was right."

Narcissa stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. "What you thought was right?" she repeated, her voice dripping with incredulity. "And what about your family, Draco? Did you ever consider what your actions would mean for us?"

Draco's eyes burned with unshed tears. "I did think about it, Mother. Every single day. But I couldn't stand by and do nothing while Voldemort—"

Before he could finish, Narcissa's hand shot out, striking him across the face. The sound of the slap echoed through the room, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Draco staggered back, his cheek stinging, more from the shock than the pain.

"How dare you," Narcissa hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "I never supported your father's allegiance to Voldemort, but that doesn't give you the right to betray your own blood for Harry Potter. You have shamed our family, Draco."

Draco's vision blurred as he tried to hold back his tears. "I never wanted to betray anyone," he said, his voice breaking. "I just wanted to make things right."

Narcissa shook her head, her expression a mix of despair and fury. "You've only made things worse. Your father is paying the price for your recklessness. Do you have any idea what that means for us?"

The room felt suffocating, the weight of his mother's words pressing down on him like a physical burden. Draco's shoulders slumped, and he lowered his gaze to the floor, unable to meet her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Mother," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

Narcissa's expression softened, but only slightly. "Draco, I don't know what the future holds for us now. But you must understand the consequences of your actions. This isn't just about you. It's about our family, our legacy."

Draco nodded slowly, the gravity of her words sinking in. The room seemed darker than before, the shadows lengthening as the sun dipped below the horizon.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make things right," he promised, his voice filled with determination.

Narcissa's eyes softened a fraction, but the sadness in them remained. "I hope you mean that, Draco. Because we're all counting on you now."

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The room was dimly lit, a cold, oppressive darkness that seemed to swallow all hope. The flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the stone walls, making the space feel even more foreboding. Draco stood in the center, surrounded by hooded figures whose presence only intensified the suffocating atmosphere.