Entry tags:

100quills, fanfiction, fic: far away as moonshine, writing

FIC: Far Away as Moonshine, 9/28
Title: Far Away as Moonshine, Part I: Malfoy Manor
Author: zephre
Rating: PG-13 (R for whole fic)
Prompt: 100quills table 50.2: Red
Word Count: 1,596
Summary: For Draco Malfoy, the war was one endless nightmare. Until Luna Lovegood gave him a reason to hope. Can he find his courage, make his luck, and become more than a pawn to those in power?
Warnings: (for whole fic, highlight to view) *mature themes, imprisonment, mention of rape, abuse, battlefield violence, various canon and other character deaths, sexual situations*
Notes: The title is from the song, "Street of Dreams" by Oysterband.

Chapter Index:
Part I:   1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Part II:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Part III: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 ||
Epilogue

Chapter 9: In which Narcissa reveals just how Black she can be.


Draco lay on the chaise facing the window, staring out into the dark. He would not sleep anytime soon, not with his hands still shaking with the aftershocks of Cruciatus, the cuts on his face throbbing and sticky with blood, and the cold hollow feeling that accompanied the loss of his wand. It was surely the loss of his wand that caused the deepest ache. He stared out the windows and wished he could forget this night.

Bellatrix's rage at Granger had been terrible enough; her rage at Draco and his parents upon the escape of their prisoners knew no bounds. His aunt's will was such that she could take the wand of one of the fallen Snatchers and turn it on her own blood with as much power as if the wand were her own. "Idiots! Fools! How could you let them escape?" she screamed, and leveled her stolen wand at Lucius as if it were a sword. Draco heard his father scream, then he was too busy screaming himself to pay attention.

It was the proverbial last twig that unbalanced the broom; Narcissa still had her wand, and had repressed her own pain for too long. Draco did not hear the incantation his mother used, but the Crucio on him ceased, and he curled up on the floor beside the prone figure of his father to avoid what was now a full-on duel between the sisters.

"You will not hurt my son, Bella," Narcissa said, as her wand shot a bolt of blue light across the wreckage of the room.

Bellatrix dodged the curse, which left a smoking hole in the fabric covering the wall behind her. Then she laughed, the crazed cackle that made Draco's blood run cold. "Cissy!  Baby Cissy, how you've grown!" Bellatrix threw Narcissa backwards over a toppled chair with a well-placed spell, but the stunner did not take.  Narcissa got to her feet and cast a net of silver wire across the room that pinned Bellatrix to the grand piano. 

Draco gaped through his bloodied fingers at his mother as she stalked across the rug, her robes singed, her hair blown into a tangled halo. There would be no second chance with Bella, who struggled to break free of the net even as Narcissa stood over her. Then Draco's beautiful, graceful, delicate mother wrapped her free hand around Bellatrix's neck and squeezed.  Her fingernails cut into her sister's skin.

"You will not hurt my son," Narcissa repeated. "Do you understand me, Bella?"

Bellatrix was obviously struggling now for breath. She was still glaring, her wand hand fumbling to catch hold of the length of wood caught in the net. Narcissa knocked the other wand out of the way and whispered some hex that left bright red welts on Bellatrix's fingers. 

"The Malfoys will not be your scapegoats. You let them escape as much as we, and you will suffer with us. And if I ever discover that you have tortured my son for any reason other than a direct command from our Lord, this," Narcissa drew her wand down Bellatrix's cheek, opening a needle-thin incision from temple to chin, "will be just the beginning." Bright blood welled up from the cut, and ran down Bellatrix's face into her hair.

Bellatrix no longer struggled. She lay passive under Narcissa's hand.

"Do you understand me?" Narcissa asked again, in a voice that sent shivers up Draco's spine.

Bellatrix's lips moved, but Draco heard nothing. Whatever she said was the answer Narcissa required, because the silver net vanished. Narcissa left her hand around Bellatrix's neck a moment more before stepping away. Bella straightened carefully, then ran three fingers down her bloodied cheek. She looked at the red smear curiously for a moment, then licked it up with a long swipe of her tongue.

"And all this time I had given up on you, Sister," Bella said, her voice slightly hoarse. "You'll do." She gave Narcissa a look that Draco could not interpret, but it made his mother's spine straighten, and her fingers tighten on her wand. "Yes, Cissy, you'll do very well." Bellatrix smiled, picked up the stolen wand, and turned away. 

Draco felt a hand on his back, and realized his father had regained consciousness. Lucius had not been in range of the flying glass when the chandelier fell, or had managed to shield himself. He was unbloodied, only ragged and pale. Draco pressed back against that hand, as Lucius propped himself into a sitting position against the wall. "Magnificent woman," Lucius murmured as the two of them watched Narcissa direct house elves to repair the room while Bellatrix picked her way across the wreckage to the door. Lucius combed his fingers through his son's hair in a gesture of affection Draco had not felt since before he left for his first year at Hogwarts.

The minute Bellatrix was gone, Narcissa whirled and ran to the corner where Draco lay. His mother fell to her knees and gathered Draco into her arms. Draco liked the feeling. It was like being a child again, and his mother did not even mind this time that he was getting blood all over her nice robes.

It took only a few minutes for the three of them to support each other upstairs. Draco insisted, once he was upright, that he could handle his own first aid for now, and left his parents alone. Lucius's tremors had not been this bad since his first night home from Azkaban; he would not want Draco to witness his weakness.

So now Draco was here, in his own sitting room, staring out into the night, finally forced to face the facts he had hoped to deny. He had not really believed it at first, but the house elves were quick to tell the whole sordid story. Potter and his friends had survived and escaped, and with them all of the Manor's prisoners.

Luna was gone.

She was not the reason that a few bitter tears soaked the pillow of the chaise. Tears were inevitable under the Cruciatus. Draco wiped his face and looked with surprise at the sticky mess of his hands. He had forgotten to do anything about the cuts on his face.

"Draco." His mother stood at the foot of chaise, angelic in a new, clean white robe with her hair combed straight down her back.

He turned away, burying his face in the pillow. He could not bear her pity. 

"Oh, my son. You're a mess." He felt her sit down beside him, then her hand was in his hair. "Let me take care of your face, at least." 

With a sigh, Draco turned. She washed his face with a soft cloth, then let her wand hover close to his skin as she sang a familiar incantation. Her voice was soothing. When all the cuts had closed, she ran the cloth over his face once more. He closed his eyes. "Your hands are shaking," she noted quietly.

"It will pass," he whispered. "It usually does." 

"I'm sorry, Draco. This is not the future we envisioned for you when we chose this path." Her words made him angry, but he could not muster the energy now for anything more than the sorrow and pain he already felt. The silence stretched as Narcissa took his hands in hers and held them. "She will be safe, at least."  

"It doesn't matter anymore. Whatever happens to her is her own problem now."

Narcissa sighed. "As you say."

She squeezed his hands in hers and then let go of his left. Draco opened his eyes. "Take this," she said. She pressed her own wand into his hand. "It will serve you well." 

"I can't take your wand!" Draco was appalled. "How will you defend yourself?"

Narcissa smiled. "I'll manage with another wand. You need this for school. Take it."

Draco resisted for a small moment longer, then allowed his mother to close his fingers around the wand. Sparks flew from the end.

"There, you see?  It will obey your command as it would my own." Narcissa drew an unfamiliar wand, shorter and darker than the one now in Draco's hand, from her sleeve, and summoned a blanket to cover him. "Try it," she said, gesturing with her free hand to the candle on the side table.

Draco whispered, "Incendio," and was pleased to see the wick ignite immediately.

"Good." She looked satisfied.

Draco tucked the wand into his sleeve, and although it was not the familiar weight and shape of his own, it was comforting to once more have a wand against his arm. He would not be left to fend for himself, or depend on others.

He did not mean to ignore her, but he had nothing to say. He burrowed deeper into the pillow and thought longingly of sleep. He was not quite ready to face the gaping emptiness on Luna's half of his bed. His mother seemed to understand, and ran her hand once more through his hair.

"I'll be just downstairs, if you need me. Sleep, Draco. We will all need to think clearly in the morning." He heard in her voice her dread of the reckoning to come. Only the fact of the Dark Lord's absence from Britain gave them this brief respite from punishment. There would be horror in their home once more before long.

Draco wondered what it meant that his last thought before sleeping was relief that Luna was now far out of range of the Dark Lord's rage. 

END PART ONE

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