Pariah: The Other Malfoy

Chapter 31: Honesty

I understood where my father had gone now, and I was angry. He was torturing the muggles just for the fun of it, laughing and joking with his friends as people ran in terror away from them.

But the muggles fell to the ground abruptly, the Death Eaters turning as something appeared in the sky. A mark I had read about, one I had glimpsed only a few times on my father's forearm. The Dark Mark was high above us, illuminating the dark sky as the Death Eaters seemed to flee beneath it.

I was shoved roughly back into the tent as those surrounding me grew more frantic and terrified, determined to get as far away as possible. I yelped as I hit the floor of the tent, the impact winding me slightly.

My shoulder was grabbed immediately, my father entering the tent in his normal clothing, staring wide eyed at me. Draco was behind him, a similar shocked expression on his face.

"Hold on," was all my father said as he grabbed both me and Draco, Apparating swiftly back to the Manor.

I collapsed the moment he let go of me, my mother rushing towards us instantly, surprise on her face.

"What happened?" She questioned, looking between us in fear.

"Yeah, what happened?" I rounded on my father, my anger flaring up.

His knuckles turned white as he gripped his cane tightly, staring me down with the most fury I had seen in a while. I didn't back down, glaring right back at him, my own fists clenched.

"Attacking muggles? In front of everyone at the World Cup no less!" I laughed, shaking my head, "Just for a moment, I really did believe you had changed. That maybe you weren't just acting for my benefit."

"You do not talk to me that way, I am your father!" his voice rose as he addressed me, a tone that would have filled me with fear mere months earlier.

But this time I just scoffed, turning on my heel and marching to my room. I collapsed on the bed, grabbing a pillow and screaming into it. I had known my father was still a Death Eater, but one small part of me wanted to believe he had really changed. Clearly that was too much to ask.

I was still furious at my father by the time we left for Hogwarts, and he hadn't spoken to me much either. I was unsure whether it was shame or anger that kept him from doing so, but I couldn't care less.

My mother still spoke to me, as did Draco. We didn't bring up the World Cup at all between us, it was like the elephant in the room.

My father grabbed me before we left that day, taking me to a different room to talk in private. I couldn't deny the fear that gripped me as he did so, was he going to lash out because of how I had acted?

"I recognise my actions were wrong," he finally spoke, "I will admit I had been drinking, what started out as reminiscing with friends quickly got out of hand. Especially since someone shot the Dark Mark into the sky, which I'm sure you're aware is the sign of the Dark Lord."

"I thought you'd be happy to see that, maybe it means your old boss is on his way back," I muttered angrily, and I heard him take a deep breath.

"I don't want the Dark Lord to return, Lyra," he eventually spoke, "I admit, my ideals align with his - a world where pureblood wizards are above all else - but a world where he reigns is not a world I want for you or your brother."

"Why not?" I asked after a pause.

"In your case, it's obvious. You are the exact opposite of what he wants, and he'd either send you on suicide missions or kill you outright. I'd wager the latter, given you are foolish enough to refuse what he says," he sighed, "As for Draco... the Dark Lord requires complete loyalty, and he doesn't forgive failure. Draco would be held to even higher standards than I hold him to, and his punishments for failing would be much more severe. No, I don't want the Dark Lord to return, for the sake of my children."