That Split Second | D.M

!TW! - Non-sexual abuse of a minor, severe mental health distress, violence

Once the room had broken out into hysterics, my focus remained only on the person I had just clouted with a chalice. It managed to force him away from Zabini, but even so, someone else just wrangled Blaise instead in his place. Shoving, kicking, a shockwave of profanities all collected into one, an entire crowd disorientated. But I'd have barely noticed on accounts of the third frenzied attack I had descended into, my first victim being Higgs, the second just a stranger, and now the third, a colleague in a vague sense; but definitely, without doubt a victim.

My wand wasn't even a thought. It was physical violence I'd grown to enjoy, like a shark that smells fear; I wished to tear each limb from my target. It was a struggle at first, to gain control and climb above him. A quick jab to the throat remedied that, forcing him to clutch at it, panicked by the force that his vocal chords had just taken. Swallowing air as though he'd never taken a breath in his life. 

Big mistake, because my fist soared through the air and in between his eyes. 

Then again, another, right on the sweet spot. He cowered into himself trying to dodge the punches but it would be fruitless, the family signet ring began to burn my knuckle as it imbedded into my own flesh. Identical marks of it had risen up on his flesh too. 

The cries of small children erupted all around, one by one they were restrained by wrists and shoulders; and then the rest of us on the wrong side of the line-up were next. I'd just bridged the divide between us and them, the high ranking and the toy soldiers. We are not the same, except for me.

Pushed to insanity, somehow I was becoming worse. 

Because I wasn't hurting people for power, or fame, or because I knew I had to or suffer the ramifications.. it was because I wanted to, because I'm just so angry.

In my dissonance, Snape had realised that shielding the Dark Lord was no longer important. Everyone had been captured aside from me, and now they all watched on hopelessly becoming witnesses to their first brutal crime, but certainly not their last or only. But when Snape did try to break away to get me the hell off the associate and attempt to spare my life, he was jolted back by Voldemort himself. Confused, he searched for the reason why, which was obvious.

An evil smirk had grown across Voldemort's unusual face, eyes lit up with wondrously bad intent. "No Severus," he said provocatively. "Let it happen. Let the boy unleash his potential."

Having to play it cool like he wasn't too affected by the turn of events, he just nodded like a good little lap dog. "Yes, my Lord. As you wish, but will the boy face repercussions?"

Snape and Bellatrix then exchanged a worried glance, remembering the unbreakable vow that had been made without the Dark Lord's knowledge. Maybe there is a slight glimmer of concern for my wellbeing deep down in there somewhere, but when it comes to my aunt, I'd be more inclined to put it down to the fact that she didn't want to be caught out for not declaring the vow.

Complicit he would call it, and then probably curse her to a place even her insanity can't reach.

She ambled closer to him in her gangly, twitchy way. Tousling her curls anxiously. "My Lord?" Asking again, hopeful to pry a response. Only a short silence ensued as he grew more and more impressed by the sight of me still maiming uncontrollably. "No. The boy will be rewarded."

It was a total collapse of the last bastions of decency, morality, and rationality.

That got a few brows furrowing and lips curled, but the only pair I was concerned with was the ones pasted to the cranium of the person I was seriously debating on killing now. Nuance and boundaries dissolved in this new world of psychosis. And my hallucination self just continued to egg me on, cackling and cheerleading.

The feeling of having no power over people, and not even myself had lit a flame that could not be doused. I was hungry now, hungry to feel a grip on the ruins of my old life; days long forgotten but still so evident in every room in this manor.

It's a scheming world in an aristocrats world, so put your fucking hands around that world and tighten your grip, because if you don't then somebody else will win. 

All you'll be is the jester, performing a mockery and drowning in ridicule.

"Yes, that's it, show them what you're capable of. Let them know that you aren't suicidal, they got it wrong. You're homicidal. Don't do yourself an injustice." The mirage of my own self kept dashing in and out of my peripheral vision, the rest of it consumed with streaks of red.

"Gut him," it said. "He's not even fighting back, he wants to make you look bad. Make it seem like you are unhinged, dangerous and unreliable. It's basically a set up, him not fighting back. It's all a calculated move, to try and make a mockery of you. Preying on your downfall from afar, he'll laugh about it later, unless you ensure that he can't."

Of course, future me knows now that couldn't have been further from the truth. But when you have a demon sitting on your shoulder, the persuasion fuses itself to your ear where it crawls inside your brain and takes the controls. 

So I continued in my attack, bundling up some of his hair in one hand and cradled his jaw with my other. And I lifted his head, and then I smashed it back down against the rock hard floor. He shrieked through his swollen eyes and bloody nose, likely just wishing he would fall unconscious soon so he wouldn't have to remember or endure my attack.

Both knees pressed down onto his shoulders and chest. Grunts escaped with each impact of bone hitting floor, it was relentless. The only thought I remember having throughout the whole ordeal was that I couldn't feel any pain, not even from my own brute force, my mind and body had disconnected. 

It felt just like I was dead. I felt no pain, no warm flush, no pounding heart, watching myself from above in a complete out of body experience. I couldn't understand why nobody was trying to stop me, and I screamed, pleading with those surrounding to drag me away from him.

Nobody was listening, and nobody heard me, only that voice that had grown louder, shouting now. "Yes," it groaned. "Yes, that's it. He's at his weakest, now finish him off!"

"No, don't!" I shouted at myself. "Stop! What the fuck is wrong with you!!"

The other me just remained screeching and crawling through the frequencies, delighted and aroused by the sheer amount of blood that had started to dry on us both. I dragged and crawled through the air, willing myself back into my body. Invisible. Right past Astoria and Blaise, right past Snape and the Dark Lord, desperately clawing past the kids who were traumatised so deeply they'll never recover.

With one last bellow, I knew it was now or never. "Fucking stop!!"

Air rushed my constricted lungs as I became lucid again, fists instantly dropping either side of me. That was when I felt the pain, in my hands and arms, exhausted from the physical exertion it requires to beat someone to a pulp. And he grumbled beneath me, blood bubbling at the corners of his mouth. Eyes forced completely shut from swelling, already starting to turn purple and bruised. We both sported a painted murder scene on our clothes, mine decorated with spots and spray, his saturated with clots and streaks.

What have I done?

In some sort of an inertia, it was the sound of clapping that brought my attention back to the present. It was a slow clap, one by one with intervals in between; they got more frequent as they got closer. It was Voldemort himself, and he arrived beside me and offered out a hand to help me up. I hesitated, glancing around at the faces of everyone else, and they were just as confused as I was.

The Dark Lord doesn't help anyone with anything, let alone something so trivial as aiding them to stand. Nor does he shake hands, but that's exactly what he did when I managed to get to my feet again. I'd like to say I was pleasantly surprised but it just made me nauseas.

"Now that," he nodded down to his follower who was squirming and groaning in pain. "Is the type of brutality that I expect from everyone under my rule. You've raised the standards Draco, and I intend to hold everyone else to the same standards on forth. You will be at the next meeting, sat beside me, whilst we plan our next attack. You could do great things for our cause, so prove my earlier assumptions of you wrong. I trust that you understand my proposal?"

"Yes, my Lord." I just blinked in contemplation, waiting for his words to sink in but somehow, my head was in complete silence. He freed me of his grip. "Very well, you are excused, you have earned yourself the luxury. Prepare yourself, boy."

Without delay, Snape began tugging me away by my sleeve, tutting as I tripped over my own feet on accounts of the gormless blinking I had been doing for a while now. I just didn't get it, the weight of what had been bestowed upon me. I had earned the Dark Lord's trust. I had exonerated my family from shame. 

I'd achieved my goal, but at what cost? 

"I will perform and conclude this ceremony myself! Line them up again! And throw the boy down the cellar with the old man and the girl!" It was Blaise he was condemning to imprisonment below the manor floors, with Ollivander; and at first I thought he meant to throw Astoria down there too, but quickly realised that wasn't the case.

He spoke of a girl already down there. But I had only been aware of Ollivander's entrapment. "What girl?" I asked of Snape as he continued to pull me away. "What fucking girl? What girl, Snape?" My panicked tone kept rising, drowned out by the evil cackling and celebration coming from my aunt as she watched her big hero commit heinous acts like it aroused her in some sick way. "What girl?!?"

The last thing I saw before I was taken away was Zabini's eyes as they locked onto mine. Full of pure disgust at my existence, a promise of hatred and revenge. A look that made it clear, there was no coming back from this now. I had every opportunity to be as stoic and brave as he had been. But I chose my path. One that Blaise would not be walking with me.

"You are going to wind up hanging from a tree if you continue to act like a complete moron! There is only so much I can protect you from!" Snape shoved me across the reading room, one of many, lined with bookshelves that stretch up almost thirty feet. He was visibly seething, usually apathetically ignorant, my actions had rattled him. "I don't know if you temporarily lost your vision or not back there, but I don't need protecting! Clearly I can look after myself, in a way far more effective than the methods that have been used thus far!"

"You have no idea how fine the line you are treading on is! You are going to mess this all up!!" I swayed, striding around the room still surging on adrenaline; erratic doesn't even come close to explaining it. "Oh, I get it." I laughed, shaking my head. "Yeah, that's it. You're not Voldy's favourite anymore... oh boo hoo Severus why don't you cry me a river? Maybe I'll drink it, seems darling ma and da's wine cellar has run out."

"Is that what is wrong with you? You're shit faced on booze because your parents thought you were mature enough to meet your own needs for a day or two, which frankly was poor judgement on their part?" 

Snape never swears, and hearing it in his low and long syntax was honestly hilarious. He grabbed at my chin, steadying my sway and getting a better look at my eyeballs. Straight away he knew something was seriously wrong. And when he glanced down at my arms, it wasn't just the bruises I had caused many moments ago, it was long drags of scratched finger marks all the way up to my elbow. 

It turns out opiate withdrawal is horrid business. My nailbeds were shoddy and stubble was apparent on my drawn face.

"What's wrong, huh? That's right, I'm a drug addict now didn't you get the memo, or were you too busy wanking off to the thought of cleansing society even though you're half the problem? Half the blood, half the intelligence, half the gall and certainly less than half of the fun."

I felt a hit to the side of my head, not quite a punch or a slap, more-so a warning shot. "You have no idea. This fight runs deeper than you could ever imagine. Some of us here have a greater purpose!"

"Really, because from where I'm standing, there seems to be no purpose to you whatsoever. Do refer back to what I told you in the ground floor bathrooms whilst students were throwing around curses you literally invented!! Plus you've got a face like you're permanently holding in a sneeze!"

That was an unneeded low blow, but you gotta take 'em when you've got the chance. 

I stumbled a little, carelessly hunting through the drawers of the mahogany dresser propped where father usually does his curating for the antiques. As luck would have it, a small flask was buried deep in some velvet cloth, and it was whiskey that would seep across my tongue and help propel me back to inebriation.

I thought I'd managed to sniff out every drop of alcohol and morphine in this place, but it always holds another little treasure hunt. As it turns out my parents aren't as straight laced as I'd assumed.

"A-ha! Bingo! It's bourbon, I do prefer scotch but I'll take what I can get!" I trailed around the desk with Snape just two paces behind, trying to grab at the flask and take it from me but he wasn't quick enough and I chugged the lot, throwing the flask in a random direction. "You are coming back to Spinner's End with me so I can keep eyes on you twenty four seven!"

"Oh yeah? How you gonna do that then head master? You've got a school to run, a stupid, piece of shit hell hole. Or did they sack you already?" I laughed sarcastically. "Don't blame'em, I still think they should have your license to teach. Been having fun hitting kids again since I've not been around? Hitting my girlf- .. Hitting just, people. Girls. A girl?"

It was the first falter he'd seen in my whole tirade of abuse. A meaningless stumble over some words to anybody else, but not meaningless at all to somebody who has also been grieving the loss of a love, for a long, long time.

He saw himself in me, for a split second.

"No. And she is not the girl the Dark Lord speaks of either. She is at Hogwarts, where she should be. Where you should be!" 

It was obvious that was the real question I'd been pedalling, disguised beneath harmful insults. And honestly, I'm not sure if I was happy that she was just going about her life again, or if it broke my psyche even further. Matter of fact, I wasn't sure I could feel anything right now, only getting number as the whiskey crawled through my veins. But what it did ignite was regret that New Years had passed with her sat by herself. It was supposed to be our thing. 

It was ours.

I'd suddenly become a little calmer, not much, just hesitating slightly whilst I came to terms with it. Then, I turned to another matter. "So where are mother and father?"

"They're tending to finances, offshore accounts. Just... moving some stuff about. Anyway that doesn't matter they'll be back tonight or by the morning." Severus became deceptive. This man was lying and doing it terribly. I narrowed my eyes, an attempt at crawling into his mind even though I knew I stood no chance. "You're lying," I said. "Or at the very least trying to distract from the reasons why."

"I have no hand in the family's finances. It isn't any of my business."

"Well it's my business and there's something you're not telling me." He was guilty as sin, not even his enormous beak could overshadow the nervous twitching his whole face did. "What are you guy's planning?"

My voice had softened now, there was no room for anarchy or arguments. I was right, and I didn't like that I was. "Please, Draco, go to Spinner's End. I will give you the incantations to get in, and send a chaperone to be with you. Seldom you will see me beg, but I'm willing to do so should you continue to resist my request."

A harrowing atmosphere descended upon us and not for the sounds of torture and murder that echoed down the halls. What I had started, the Dark Lord was finishing, and all I could think about was that poor deaf kid. 

"I can't. This is my home, always has been and always will be and if you think for one millisecond that I am going to give those maniacs free run of the place then you're mistaken. Until my parents return I will not move. My best friend is beneath our feet, my girlfriend is out there somewhere none the wiser and there's a fucking child in there who cannot hear of the atrocities they've been tethered to; I know sign language, nobody else does. So by all means leave, but it will be alone."

"Why do you even care? The girl's a mudblood, if anything it's just eugenics. And if you come with me I'll make it worth your while."

'Just eugenics' says the man who is aware of her blood status but also opted to keep tight lipped about it. At least we're both on the same page about something, though he'd never outrightly admit it.

"No, professor. It's a matter of be the villain or be the victim."

"Draco..."

"I said no!" I shouted, my throat hoarse. I let the sinister rise again, using it as a tool, an alter ego. I gave in to the voice inside my head, just to block out the sound of my own. Wading to the crestfallen professor, I thumped him back with two palms at his collarbones. 

"I'm standing my ground, I have the Dark Lord's trust and I have a say in this manor. So find the horizon and disappear over it, but if anything happens to y/n in that school under your administration.. I'll collect your fucking head and hang it from that tree you speak so certain of. You will never be my teacher again, and I will never respect you again. You can clean up your mess, and I'll bask in mine." 

My voice dropped to a whisper as I laid my last condition down. 

"If you insist on forcing your sick idea of protection, use it on my friends, and use it on y/n. Maybe then I could believe a word that comes out of that crooked mouth. And I know it was you who obliviated Higgs, that is the one and only thing I'll give you credit for."

I broke away from the Professor harshly, with every intention of obliterating my liver just as I had been doing for the amount of days in a row I couldn't even guess.

And I needed to pull my head together, wash the blood off my skin and sharpen my mind.

Because I'm on the inside now. The cream of the crop. A right hand man.

I have no intention to waste my promotion. I still have a lot of hate in my heart after breaking away from her, so it had to be placed somewhere. My life was turning into a book of horror and I wasn't even the narrator, but I'd just been handed the pen, with the power to rectify some of the poorer plot holes.

No more cowardice. Just a little change of technique.