XVI
I'd remained hopeful in the week leading up to Christmas for a letter but none arrived, only postnotes. Thankfully the Dark Lord hadn't graced the Manor with his putrid presence, I mean since dad's in prison and I'm being monitored by Snape there really was no need for him to come here.
So it had been just me, mum and the elves. Most of my nights had been spent crying with my head on my mums lap whilst she tickled my back, like when I was little.
It was as if the second I felt even a little bit safe I mentally age regressed.
And then I would lie awake until the early hours of the morning, staring at the small space of ceiling visible above the four drape covered posts on my bed. I either overthought to the point it made me feel ill or I just didn't think at all and disassociated, becoming one with the silence.
Neither were enjoyable.
At least at Hogwarts there was stuff to fill the void. Classes, friends, gatherings, fucking hell I'd really appreciate just an argument right about now so that I could feel anger instead of misery.
And the fact that I was now sat at our dining table that was ridiculously large for absolutely no reason, trying to eat and enjoy my Christmas dinner with only my mum was so awkward. We had to make small talk and just pretend like everything is fine or talk about how much it just isn't.
So I ate it, not because I was hungry but because I didn't want to be disrespectful to the only other person in the world who understands how I feel and loves me regardless. She'd even made it all herself instead of having the elves do it. She'd actually given them the day off, and if my father ever found out about that he'd lose his shit but mum is a soft touch; she just can't help it.
"Did you like your gifts my sweet?" She asked, a soft smile on her face.
I'd gotten the latest edition of the Firebolt, the ones before it all upon stands remaining no longer used. A set of cufflinks and chain made of pure, solid gold. The usual little bits like aftershave, books, clothes and shoes etc.
Truthfully there isn't much more out there that exists, that could be bought for me anymore. I had everything I needed and almost everything that I've ever wanted.
"Yeah I loved all of it mum thank you, sorry I couldn't really get anything for you I didn't have the time and dad usually takes me to go pick something."
"Hey," she whispered, placing her hand on top of mine that was now rested on the table. "Give me a smile."
"Why?"
"Just give me one.."
So I smiled, extremely confused on the inside but still tried to give the big smushy cheeked grin that I know she loves. "There, that's all I wanted for Christmas. Nothing else."
My mum is too good for this kind of life, but she loves my father so she stands by him. And that's why completing my task is so important. Because if anything, above it all, she deserves to be kept safe and get her husband back.
"You're too cute my boy.." she muttered ruffling my hair. "Stop it," I sarcastically whined back. "Muuum stoppppp."
She gave in eventually, retreating to leave my hair stuck up in all different directions. And mother had to cover her mouth to stop herself from laughing right in my face as I side eyed her with a little huff, blowing air up at the hair that had flopped down over my eyes.
"Go on my love, you're excused now if you want to go and do your own thing."
"Well what about you?" I asked, surely she'd not want to continue sitting here alone in front of a pile of empty plates and serving bowls. "Well I've got to tidy all this up because the elves are resting, don't forget to not tell father by the way, and after that I've got a new book I want to start reading."
I knew she was just making stuff up now because she could sense that I wanted to get away. "Okay, I'm gonna go read as well I think. I'll be in my room."
She just tilted her head and began fussing my hair again until I stood up and dodged her evil ruffling, scruffling hands; one day they're going to tickle my brain I swear.
Once alone again I pulled off my Christmas jumper, yeah, we have to wear Christmas jumpers in this house on Christmas day; nobody is ever going to find that out. And I walked up to my mirror, staring pensively at myself.
Turning out my arm I edged my eyes around the skull that trailed off and around in to an angry snake. It's supposed to represent evil but it means so much more. It means death, slyness, pain. It means you're a slave to your own darkness because you'd failed to contain it.
My fingertips prodded in to it slowly, and then my fingernail, it began to sting yet I still pushed further and further in to the flesh.
Ever since receiving the mark that part of my arm had felt a little numb, that's probably because when the mark isn't burning in agony the brain doesn't really know how to register normal sensation again.
And even though I had began to draw a little blood with how deeply I had pressed in to my skin it still didn't cause me the kind of pain I actually yearned for, to just feel something that wasn't associated with the mark of evil.
I had almost become lost in my reflection when an enormous thud hit my window and I jumped so hard I almost hit the ceiling. So I grabbed the first shirt I could find, pulling it over my head and walked up to said window, quickly wrenching it open.
"What the fuck?" I whispered, as nothing appeared. That was until an owl popped up from underneath me and made me squeal like a pussy followed by annoyance. "Oh my fucking god you stupid imbecile!"
It shook itself down and took refuge on the windowsill as I sat down on the Chaise Lounge that I usually sit on to stare outside. The owl itself was completely cross eyed, no wonder it almost fucking killed itself on my window, how it even got here is a mystery.
It was holding a letter though.
"Give it here then?" I demanded as it looked at me. Not a single thought behind those crossed eyes, just 'be owl.' But I found myself needing to tug at the letter, the owl wasn't giving in so easily.
When I was able to wrench the envelope from its beak the owl just fell forward flat as a pancake on to it's face. "Oh my god, is it dead?" I whispered, leaning back. And then it simply stood back up and took off in a zigzag direction before fading in to the horizon.
I was speechless, what a strange animal.
But that's when I could hear the pounding in my ears and feel the tingling in my cheeks because it wasn't from any of the Slytherins. Firstly an owl that brain damaged wouldn't belong to them and they had already sent their silly Christmas postcards. So there was only one other person it possibly could be.
Y/n. Otherwise I've got a stalker or something.
Eagerly tearing the paper and tugging out the parchment I unfolded it, jittering slightly nervous just to read what it said.
DraCo MAlFoy,
Don't think this is forgiveness because it isn't. You're still a big, huge, massive troll dick shit faced cunt. But I've given some thought to your really shitty apology and well.. I'm bored so I thought I might as well write to you because it gives me something to do.
Also don't mind Kiki, she's a bit 'special,' but that's why I picked her. She's probably going to either shit on you or headbutt something for no reason. Apparently brain trauma is her hobby, a bit like you if you carry on; I know spells that could turn you in to a vegetable.
And honestly I shouldn't have said some of the things I said that morning in front of your housemates but I'm not apologising because, well, because just no.
Anyway I've been making some perfumes because I make my own, I sprayed some on the letter; it's for boys. You can write back and tell me if it's a bit shit or not if you want but otherwise don't bother.
Hope you had a shit Christmas you dick.
Oh and don't throw away the envelope until you've properly looked inside.
P.S I didn't need your address you moron. There's literally only one Malfoy Manor that exists.
Y/n
28 Glenfield Cottages, Tidworth, Wiltshire SP9 202
Are you absolutely fucking joking me? She lives like twenty minutes away from me by broom. I wasn't sure whether to take that as a blessing or a curse. The return address is literally walking distance, it would take an hour or two but it could be walked.
But that aside I brought the parchment to my face and took a deep inhale and I was shocked that whatever she had concocted smelt pretty decent. Whether to tell her that or not though was the question. Should I lie and say it's crap? Do I say it's amazing? Is this a test?
That was when my finger felt the lump of something at the bottom of the envelope so I set down the letter and shook out the envelope. A ready rolled joint fell out on to my lap and instantly the smirk cut across my face.
Yep, she definitely likes me back even after all my fuckups.
I'm almost certain of it.
So I wasted no time at all lighting it with the tip of my wand and shuffling to lean a little closer to the open window, taking in a deep breath of the herbal stress reliever; my shoulders relaxing almost immediately. The smoke that I released fading out in to the air outside as the sun started to set.
I love this feeling, the sheer floating serendipity of the chemicals in my brain just slowing and fuzzing. Nothing to feel except the high, creeping through my bones slowly until it encases me in total calmness.
"Draco!" Mother cheered as the door rattled and knocked. I panicked and began trying to out the smoke on the windowsill, burning my fingertips and getting little bits of burning ash all over myself. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."
"I thought you might want some dessert now!" She smiled as she walked in to catch me smiling suspiciously and acting like absolutely nothing was going on. "Draco.. what have you been doing?"
Mother set the dessert aside and stood with an arched brow. "Nothing just looking at the air, I mean smelling it you know just getting some fresh--- air?"
"I'm not a fool Draco, unlike some I own a nose."
I choked on my words before they could leave my mouth. That was the best fucking thing I'd ever heard, and the corners of her mouth twitched too as she fought back the urge to break out of parenting mode and begin cackling.
"Have you been smoking? And don't lie to me. I can tell when you're lying."
"Yes, sorry. I don't do it often or anything."
"Draco, smoking is really bad for you and it'll make you ill when you're older," she began scolding, walking closer whilst I jostled the joint in my fist beside me. "I'm not angry but you must promise this won't become a regular thing. You're barely eighteen where did you even get a cigare--"
Mum trailed off as her nostrils flared a little and her eyes sort of searched the room. "That's not a cigarette is it you little shit?"
"Yeah? I don't know what you're on about?"
"I know weed when I smell it Draco."
"Please don't tell dad!!" I blurted out. I'd been caught red handed. "Give it here, give it to me now Draco."
I handed it over reluctantly and mother inspected it closely, running her gaze over the sides before giving a slightly approving nod.
Did my mother just judge the rolling of a spliff?
But the real kicker was when she put it in her mouth and lit it back up with her wand. My jaw fell open so wide my chin literally touched my chest. "Mother?! What the hell are you doing?!?!
And she exhaled slowly with closed eyes, not so much as a strain or a cough, muttering to herself. "Oh, it's been such a long while.."
"Hello earth to mum?! I'm waiting for you to shout at me and not smoke literal drugs that I literally had in my possession?!"
"Darling, I was your age once. And remember that before I was a Malfoy, I was a black. And despite our late cousin Sirius being a Gryffindor, blood traitoring fool.. we did often sneak off together to smoke a little bit back in the day.. And aunt Bellatrix was worse, maybe that's why she is the way she is now.. she never was quite right again after that batch of bad mushrooms -- I mean it though, do not make this a regular thing. This is your one time free pass. I'll keep this between us if you don't mention about the elves."
Mother then sniggered whilst settling down next to me on the Chaise Lounge and handing the joint back, followed by gazing out the window. Okay so apparently now me and my mum smoke drugs together.
I'm either tripping balls and y/n has spiked the joint or this is a dream because I was just too perplexed to even comprehend what had just happened. Lest, all I could do was shrug and slowly lift the smoke back to my mouth whilst staring at my mother confused, as she continued enjoying her view of the Manor gardens; waiting for her share again.
Uh, Merry fucking Christmas I suppose?