Closure
-October 31 1991-
Little One notices things. He knows that all of Papa’s friends assume he’s stupid, just like Cousin Dudley and his gang, but Little One can’t be stupid. He wouldn’t notice things if he were stupid, would he? And Little One notices a lot of things.
He noticed that Mr. Snape---he likes lilies---lied to him when he said he was taking him to Papa. He didn’t notice it at first, he was distracted by seeing his Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony from the strange dreams. It wasn’t until Little One heard his Papa’s name come out of the strange bearded man’s mouth, that he noticed something was wrong. (And it was wrong, very very wrong) He hadn’t seen Papa in several days and he missed him. He wanted to see his Papa but the strange people he was staying with wouldn’t let him. It made him sad and scared. He noticed how upset Uncle Padfoot was whenever Little One wasn’t there, and it made him feel strange. He felt sad because Uncle Padfoot was upset, but guilty because Little One didn’t want to be there anymore. He wanted to go home to his Papa and his Auntie Cissy and his snake-momma.
He noticed the strange bearded man said something that made Uncle Padfoot upset and then suddenly Little One got to see Papa. Little One could see how angry Papa was, but the second they met eyes, Papa looked so worried that Little One squirmed in the strange bearded man’s hold, wanting to run over to Papa and give him a hug and tell him that everything was okay.
The strange bearded man said something that made Papa angry, but Little One wasn’t listening. He was listening to his Papa, who had suddenly addressed him. “Are you harmed, dear one?” he asked.
“‘M oh’kay,” Little One had answered, smiling at his Papa. “Missed you, Papa.” Little One watched as his Papa looked back at the strange bearded man and they talked for a while until Little One was set on the ground.
Little One let out a silent giggle and ran over to his Papa, his arms outstretched towards him. Papa lifted him up into his arms and hugged him tightly, and for the first time in days, Little One felt safe. “There, there, precious. I’m here now.” he said and kissed his temple.
And as the feeling of safety and security washed over him, Little One allowed himself to snuggle closer to his Papa’s comforting weight and fell asleep.
When Little One woke up, he didn’t want to leave his Papa ever again. He was so afraid while he was gone, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. Little One noticed that Auntie Cissy watched him nervously a lot now, but whenever she tried to get close to him, he would just snuggle closer to his Papa.
He liked Auntie Cissy, but he wanted to be with Papa.
He tried not to, but Little One couldn’t help but worry about Mr. Snape. He said that it was a secret, that Little One couldn’t tell Papa that Mr. Snape was the one who took him, but Mr. Snape said that Papa was the one who told him to watch Little One, so didn’t Papa already know? But then, Mr. Snape had lied to him before.
Nevertheless, Little One didn’t like Mr. Snape anymore. Whenever he saw the man, Little One would get as close to Papa as he could, his fingers grabbing at the long robes tightly. Mr. Snape had taken Little One from Papa before, so who’s to say he won’t do it again?
Little One noticed how everyone looked at him with weariness. They eyed him as he curled up in Papa’s arms. They whispered to each other whenever Little One feigned sleep in his Papa’s lap. (Little One was very good at pretending to sleep) Little One didn’t know why they looked at him with such concerned eyes, or why they got sad whenever he passed by. He wanted to give them flowers to make them feel better, but that would mean getting out of Papa’s arms and getting close to them. And Little One couldn’t do that. What if he got too close, and Mr. Snape came and took him away again? No, it wasn’t safe. He hoped that they didn’t mind not getting flowers for a little while.
Little One noticed Papa’s worried gaze, too. Papa was always looking at Little One now, and Little One didn’t mind because that meant Papa could protect him. Papa always protected him, no matter what. That’s why, when the new nightmares of Mr. Snape coming and taking him away forever and ever started to wake him in the night, Little One would crawl into Papa’s bed and sleep next to him. Papa could keep Little One safe. Forever and always.
Little One was starting to get better, and Papa knew that too, and that's why Little One didn’t kick up a fuss when Papa had to go away for a meeting. Snake-momma was getting food but she promised she’d be back in a few minutes, so Little One didn’t mind waiting. But he was bored in his room, and he wanted to see how the flowers in the garden outside were growing.
That’s when the bad man came.
Little One’s hand absently brushed against the new stitches in his neck. His fingers trailed over the harsh thread, counting. There were four new stitches. Unbidden, an image of the badman looming over him flashed in his mind, and Little One choked on a gasp. He was a very bad man, that’s what snake-mama told him, and he was very scary.
Little One could remember how scared he was as the bad man hurt him. Little One felt the phantom pains as the bad man’s fingers held him down and tore apart his neck bit by bit. It felt like he was dying all over again and Little One wanted to scream but he couldn’t find his voice. The bad man was wearing a mask, but he looked just like Uncle Vernon and suddenly, the bad man became Uncle Vernon.
“You useless freak! Can’t you do anything right! I’ll teach you how to behave!” and as Uncle Vernon ripped out the stitches holding him together, all Little One could do was beg.
“No Uncle Vernon! Please, Uncle Vernon! I’ll be better, Uncle Vernon!” but Uncle Vernon didn’t hear Little One’s pleas, and suddenly his word was tilting. He couldn’t feel his body and he was assaulted by the overwhelming feeling of wrongness---it was wrong, wrong wrong---and Little One opened his mouth and screamed.
He screamed and screamed until the blood pooled in his mouth and he couldn’t scream any more. And then he just whimpered, the blood pouring down the back of his throat and choking him, his neck split open and his head lying uselessly on the floor, his vision going in and out. One minute Little One was whimpering and choking and the next Draco was standing over him calling someone and Little One whimpered louder. He wanted the wrongness to stop and he wanted the blood to go away and the pain to stop and, and---
Little One wanted his Papa to come and make everything better because that’s what Papa always did.
And there he was, holding him and brushing his hair out of the way. Little One looked up at his Papa, straining to see him through his blurry vision. The world was spinning on a tilted axis, but Little One didn’t know how to tell Papa that. Then Papa kissed him and told him everything was going to be okay. Little One believed him and he sunk into the blissful darkness with no complaints.
And when Little One woke, Papa had fixed him. The wrongness was gone, and in its place, a sheer numbness that spread through his limbs like the blood that painted the walls. Papa was worried, and Little One noticed it right away, and Little One didn’t want to make his Papa worried, so he did his best to act normal. Little One was good at pretending nothing was wrong, the Dursleys taught him how. But even still, Little One never let go of Papa and he never gave flowers. The desire to hand them out had died with him.
The nightmares of Mr. Snape disappeared, changing into something far more terrifying. Uncle Vernon and the masked bad man would hold him down and tear him apart, only to put him back together to do it all over again. Little One slept with Papa now, but even he wasn’t enough to keep the scary dreams at bay.
Everything was wrong and numb and Little One didn’t like it, but he didn’t know how to fix it either.
And now, as he sat outside in the very gardens he wished to see earlier, Little One felt nothing. He was sitting on the grass, the warmth of the sun feeling mildly pleasant against his bare arms, but his eyes were blank as they stared at the mix of lush flowers before him.
To his left, snake-momma slithered around the flower bed, searching for mice. He hugged his legs close to his chest and rested his face against his knees. He didn’t understand what he did to deserve his punishment, and it was what kept him on the defensive, always holding his Papa. Papa had never punished him before, but the bad man did, and Little One didn’t know what he did.
Was Little One a bad boy? Only bad boys got punished, and the bad man punished him really hard, so that meant Little One was a bad boy, right?
Papa had said to stay in his room, but Little One really wanted to see the garden. Maybe that's why he got punished. For disobeying Papa. But.. But… But Papa had promised that Little One would never be punished like Uncle Vernon punished ever again. Did Papa lie?
“Little One? You smell sad.” Snake-momma hissed, moving away from the flowers.
“Was I a bad boy?” Little One asked, his gaze staying firmly planted on the grass. In his peripheral, Little One saw snake-momma rear back in surprise.
“What? Little One is the best boy, never bad, always.” she said firmly. “Why do you say such things?”
“Bad boys get punished.” Little One said softly, his fingers resting on the ground, absently playing with a blade of grass.
Snake-momma hissed. “No! Little One is good boy. That man was bad man! Bad man gets punished for hurting you!”
Little One looks up from the ground to see snake-momma hissing indignantly by the flowers. Her green scales shine and glitter under the sunlight, and Little One can’t help but stare at the snake. “Bad man… punished?” he asks.
“Punished very bad. Bad man never hurts Little One ever again.” snake-momma insisted, and a self-satisfied smirk curled on her face.
The feeling of numbness, the confusion and hurt at being punished for something he didn’t understand, the fear of losing Papa again and the loneliness he felt when he was away from Papa all rose up in his chest at once. The confusing and overwhelming emotions choked him with their intensity and Little One felt tears well up in his eyes.
All the emotions that Little One pushed away with the desire to be normal for Papa welled up inside him and pushed over the edge, forcing a harsh and silent sob out of Little One’s lips. Snake-momma whipped her head around to watch as Little One cried.
“Let it all out, Little One,” she hissed, slithering closer to him. “You’ve been hiding for too long. Let it out.”
Little One let out a silent wail and his body trembled under the immense pressure. Little One always hid his sadness and pain because that’s what was expected of him. Little One always had to, and even when his Papa saved him, Little One was always happy because he knew that Papa worried.
Little One didn’t want to hide his sadness anymore.
Little One sobs as the pain washes over him. Little One feels like he’s being buried. “I was good…” he whispered over and over again, too exhausted to hiss at snake-momma. He let the familiar language leave his tongue as he sobbed, tears pouring down his face like a flood. The bright colors of the flowers and peacefulness around him clashed horribly with his pain and the drastic contrast overwhelmed him and he buried his face in his Snake-momma’s coils. “I was good…”
He doesn’t know how long he sits there, face hidden in the coils of his protective snake-momma, a light breeze ruffling his hair as the flowers rustled. He allowed himself to cry, the tears slicking snake-momma’s scales and making his face slip every few minutes. His body trembled and jerked under the force of his cries, but he didn’t make a sound. Little One grieved silently, doing what he did best, and suffered in silence.
When he finally stops, no more tears left to give, he lifts his head. His face feels itchy and blotchy and Little One quickly wipes his face. While he had been crying, snake-mama coiled tightly around him in a comforting hold. He leans back against his snake-momma and lets his gaze drift over the flowers.
They’re really pretty, thousands of daisies, peonies, roses, sunflowers, lilies, cone flowers, and countless other wildflowers danced in the light breeze. Little One forgot how much he missed flowers. Little One always felt safe in nature. When he lived with the Dursleys, Aunt Petunia always made Little One take care of the garden and that was the only thing he actually enjoyed. He nurtured the flowers from seed to bloom, keeping them safe from the harsh realities of life and the cruelty of his family. Uncle Vernon never dared to punish him outside, not with it being so open to the neighbors, so Little One stayed outside for as long as he dared.
Little One smiles, tilting his face up with closed eyes as the gentle warmth from the sun brushed over his face. Little One felt peace wash over him as he opened his eyes to stare at the tranquil scene. He lets out a contented sigh, and looks up at the puffy white clouds.
“I was good.” he said, slightly louder than before. Beside him, Snake-momma flicks her tongue, and it tickles the bare skin of his wrist.
“Yess, always good, hatchling.” she said. “Not your fault.”
Little One looked at her for a second. “Not my fault?” he asked. The idea seemed foreign to him. Whenever he was punished, it was always his fault. Uncle Vernon taught him that he deserved all of his punishments. She shook her head before letting it rest on his thigh. Little One slowly ran his fingers down her scales, the familiar motion soothing him. “Not my fault.” he repeated, tasting the idea on his tongue.
As Little One pet his snake-momma, the light autumn breeze rushed past him, drying the tear tracks on his face and calming him down. Little One felt the yucky emotions absence from his chest, and its place was peace and acceptance. Little One didn’t deserve the bad man’s punishment. Little One was a good boy. It wasn’t Little One’s fault.
For the first time in weeks, Little One smiled a true smile.
She watched from above as Her chosen relaxed against the Maledictus. Finally, things were starting to connect as it was meant to. It was about time. She was only slightly bitter when the Immortal Lord strayed from Her path, changing everything that was meant to be and forcing Her to change the game. And yet, She thought with a victorious smirk, She found a way.
It was only a matter of time before things fell into place.
A dark chuckle brought Her out of Her thoughts. “Your move.” He said, His voice dark and raspy.
She looked down, a smile gracing Her ethereal features. “You should know better than to play chess with me, Dear Brother.”
Her knight conquered the king and Her Dear Brother dissolved into fits of mad laughter.
“I can never beat you, Dear Sister.”
She set up another game as His mad chuckles filled the silent, endless room.