Born A Weapon

home sweet.... no

(Tw: child abuse mentioned )

For those of you interested in the full layout of malfoy manor please ask for it in the comments

this chapter isnt that heavy but do be warned for the chapter after this one its only going downhill from here

_______________________________________

22-06-1997

The heavy oak doors groaned shut behind Draco and me with a final echoing thud, the sound reverberating through the vast entrance hall before being swallowed by a silence so complete it felt almost impossible, and in that very moment we both knew something was terribly wrong.

We had been picked up from the station by a Death Eater named Jason, whose entire journey back to Malfoy Manor had been spent in absolute silence, every question Draco or I asked disappearing into the air unanswered as though we hadn't spoken at all, while every glance he gave us through the rear-view mirror only revealed a man who looked somehow even more unsettled than Normally had ever managed to appear.

The manor itself felt frozen in time, so deathly still that I found myself wondering if I'd somehow gone deaf, because there wasn't a single creak from the old floors, not a murmur of servants, not even the faint crackle of a fire somewhere in the distance, only an oppressive silence that pressed against my ears until it became almost painful.

Draco slowly looked around the entrance hall before turning to me, his grey eyes scanning the towering stone staircase at the end of the corridor, the doors leading into the kitchens and drawing rooms, and the endless walls decorated with cold green wallpaper, faded portraits of long-dead Malfoys whose painted eyes seemed to follow our every movement, and mounted deer heads and magnificent peacocks displayed like grim memorials to forgotten victories.

"It's so quiet," he muttered, his voice sounding strangely loud in the stillness. "Almost peaceful... but not in a good way."

I could only nod as I absentmindedly picked at the peeling flower sticker on the handle of my trunk, the faded remains of something Luna had stuck there years ago when she'd laughed and declared every suitcase deserved something beautiful to remind it where home was. The colours had almost completely disappeared now, and another tiny corner peeled away beneath my fingernail as movement at the top of the staircase caught my attention.

Standing there was Narcissa Malfoy, dressed in a long gown of crushed white velvet that shimmered faintly beneath the chandelier above her, while her impossibly pale skin and silver-blonde hair made her appear almost ethereal against the dark stone walls, as though she were less a woman and more a ghost wandering the halls of her own home.

"Mother?" Draco called uncertainly. "What's going on?"

I barely realised I'd spoken until I heard my own voice whisper into the silence.

"It's too quiet."

Narcissa didn't answer. Instead, she descended the staircase with slow, deliberate steps, every movement heavy with an exhaustion I had never seen in her before, and when she finally reached us, she wrapped Draco tightly in her arms, holding him there far longer than she ever normally would.

I lowered my gaze again, focusing on Luna's old sticker instead of the strange tenderness unfolding in front of me, peeling away another faded fragment until there was almost nothing left.

When Narcissa finally released Draco, her eyes settled on me.

There was no anger there, no disappointment, not even resentment.

Instead, I found something infinitely harder to bear.

Pity.

Whatever had happened inside this house before we'd arrived, it had left her looking at me as though I were already grieving something I hadn't yet learned to lose.