Circi | 2

THIRTY TWO

"'Home'"

June 1997, 3 months later

Malfoy Manor was more barren than she remembered. Her family had never been ones for over-the-top decorations, they flaunted their wealth through clothes and property and power. Draco and Circi had vaults in Gringotts overflowing with gold waiting for them to enter adulthood. Yet, even her bedroom, overflowing with notebooks stuffed with loose sheets and plants a house-elf had clearly kept alive while she was away.

It was the unending feeling of being watched that kept her awake at night. Her door had no lock but she jammed it with her dresser nonetheless each night.

It was the absence of her father which she felt greatly. At home, or on the Rier Estate she could forget he existed or pretend she was on an extended holiday. After all, she spent the majority of her time away at Hogwarts- what was a few more months? But being home, or what used to be her home, and not having him watching over everything in the manor felt wrong. It had always been Lucius who protected her from Narcissa and her family, he tried every time she was alienated by someone from the House of Black and now she was surrounded by them.

Narcissa, who loved Draco to bits and looked at Circi like a stain on her favourite dress. Bellatrix, who was deranged and bloodthirsty. And then there was everyone else. The death eaters who watched her skittering off to the kitchen or over the lawn to the greenhouse with freshly smashed windows like a piece of meat. Clearly they took no pleasure in torturing the house elves but, at the end of the day, the reality was that they were guests in her house.

And then there was the Dark Lord. Voldemort was around, she knew that much. She had seen him in shadowed doorways and sitting at the head of the dining table where her father used to sit at breakfast.

The only time she felt a morsel of comfort was when Draco visited her.

She trusted him not to hurt her. That was all she trusted him with since he marched around the house with the dark mark slithering along his arm for everyone to see, but he hadn't killed Dumbledore. Snape did that. He had promised to protect Draco and that was what he had done, and, in protecting Draco he also protected Circi.

Sometimes, she thought she ought to be grateful to have him looking out for her but all she could see in him was death.

He sat with them at dinner, tense as always, and Circi watched him closely.

Murderer. Murderer. Murderer.

*

It was nearing the end of the evening when the world seemed to become even darker around Circi. She was slumped in her seat across from Draco, pushing carrots around her plate with her fork, in between Snape and Narcissa when Bellatrix burst into the room.

She was cackling as always, curly black hair sticking out in every direction and her cheeks red with the bite of cold air. The room smelled like sea salt as she waltzed in with a posse of death eaters in prison garb. Tailing the group was the devil himself, the Dark Lord, looking proud of himself and his followers.

As they all took empty seats, Circi looked around and noticed Lucius taking a seat beside Draco. He had dark circles beneath his eyes, his hair greasy and matting with neglect and, somehow, he had gained weight in his face. The other prisoners looked sallow, with sunken cheeks and shrivelled bodies but Lucius' face was plumper than usual, as if he had been hit with the stinging curse and neglected to mend his wounds.

Draco turned to his father, wide eyes full of fear and concern and expectation to be told what to do next. Circi, however, turned her head away and tried to shrink into her seat moreso.