Chapter Two- Alive

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"He's shut down compassion-how else would you become a Death Eater? So he suppresses virtually all of the good side of himself. But then he's playing with the big boys, as the phrase has it, and suddenly, having talked the talk he's asked to walk it for the first time and it's absolutely terrifying. And I think that that is an accurate depiction of how some people fall into that way of life and they realise what they're there for. I felt sorry for Draco. The events of Draco's late teens forever changed his life. He had the beliefs with which he had grown up challenged in the most frightening way: he had experienced terror and despair, seen his parents suffer for their allegiance, and had witnessed the crumbling of all that his family had believed in."

-Jk Rowling regarding the characterisation of Draco Malfoy

Struggling to withhold the cry of pain that was threatening to spill from his lips Draco winced as the cane came across his back for the fiftieth time in a row.

"Count it, Draco" a voice snapped coldly from behind him and the pointy jaw, which was locked in silent pain, opened and gritted out clearly.

"50."

Steps could be heard as the man stood back to survey his handiwork.

"Very well," the voice drawled smoothly. "That concludes your punishment for today. You may face me."

Dropping his arms from where they lay bracing the stone wall ahead of him, Draco turned around to face his father, Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius had lowered his cane and was staring down at his son with hardened gray eyes that were positively brimming with disapproval.

The younger Malfoy never lowered his gaze despite the ache of self loathing that resonated within him, more painful than any number of lashings from the cane had ever been.

He'd failed his father yet again. A disgrace to the Malfoy name.

"If you learn nothing else from me Draco, learn this and remember it well. Never look the enemy in the eye."

He stared down his straight, pointed nose at his son.

"Do you comprehend why?"

"Why Father?"

"Lest you mistake them for a human. See Draco, an enemy of a Malfoy is useless, less than, subhuman. In the future I expect you to remember your place as a Malfoy and to conduct yourself in a manner befitting one. Now, make yourself decent and join us for dinner" Lucius finished coldly turning on his heel and leaving the dungeons swiftly not bothering to wait for his son's reply.

Only when Draco heard the doors to the dungeons slam shut did he allow himself a shaky intake of breath. Something forbidden and alien was awakening in his chest. Emotion. It was turning his stomach, twisting his insides, unfamiliar in its rapid growth. A heat blazed in him threatening to spill over, fighting to rise to the surface. Draco's heart began to pick up speed and he could feel his intake of breath becoming more intense. Suddenly, there it was his heart began to race, pumping furiously, and the young teen raised his hand to his chest in panic. Why couldn't he damn well breathe? His heart was thundering against his breast bone painfully and he tried again at an intake of breath, breathing deeply. That seemed to lessen the strain on his heart somewhat and so he did it again and again relieved when the throbbing ache began to subside and his racing heart came to a steady beat once more. Then something even more daunting arose. His eyes began to water, tears prickling at the corners and a white hot shame shook him to his very core. Was he going to cry now? Carry on like an adolescent?

Draco would very much have liked to forget the last time he'd cried. It had taken place following one of his families many lavish dinner parties. He'd been cross at his mother for denying him lumps of sugar in his tea yet again. He had never been allowed sugar as a child and now as a teenager he opted to go without it in order to avoid the sound of his mother clicking her tongue in distaste or his father's silent gaze of disapproval. As it happened, when Draco was a child he used to frighten the house-elves into submission with threats. He'd tell tales of knocking over one of his mother's beloved vases and blaming it on one of the pitiful creatures if they did not, in fact, fetch him sugar cubes at his leisure. This resulted in Draco growing quite attached to the sweet little morsels. Dobby, the house elf that usually tended to Draco's sugar needs had foolishly and quite mistakenly added the sugar to Narcissa's tea instead of Draco's own on that fated night at this one particular dinner party. The latter had resulted in his mother's rather unlady-like spewing of oversugared beverage ending up in Pamela Goyle's face. Draco and the other children had broken into fits of laughter before Lucius got wind of what had actually transpired. Draco had been coercing Dobby into sneaking him sugar and Dobby had been otherwise complying. Livid, Lucius had sent Draco to his room immediately and he and his cane ensured Draco would no longer be bullying the house elves into sneaking sugar lumps into his bitter tea again. It had been 5 lashings from the cane. Draco, all of five years old at the time, had shrieked and cried from beginning to end adding to his fathers mounting displeasure.

"Malfoys don't cry" he'd sneered cruelly when that lashings had reached their end and locked his son in his room for five long days to ensure the lesson stuck. As it happened it wasn't a lesson Draco had ever forgotten. Now here he stood fighting back tears that hadn't made an appearance in eleven years.

He was weak. His father had said so himself that very evening and it echoed in the corners of Draco's mind, loud and so very true. He was a coward, not fit to bare the name Malfoy.

He recalled his encounter earlier that afternoon, an encounter he admitted, he wouldn't soon forget.

A young man, filthy, bruised and beaten had hung in these very dungeons. Thick chains were cuffed around his wrists and ankles effectively holding the captive who was thrashing wildly in his cell. Draco never knew his name, it hadn't mattered. He was a muggle his father had said. Nothing of importance. An animal.

"Please! Let me go! I have a family, a daughter. Please, I won't breathe a word, the police will never hear about this just please let me go."

Draco had surveyed the man with disgust. He was rambling. Speaking nonsense. Incoherent. Here, locked in the Malfoy Manors dungeons, chained to a wall throwing himself against the bonds ruthlessly, the Slytherin couldn't agree with his father more, this creature was an animal.

Lucius Malfoy who stood next to his son, curled his thin lips in disgust and raised his wand.

"Silence!"

The appearance of the elder Malfoys wand had rendered the man silent immediately. Although a muggle, it would appear this man had already been on the receiving end of his fathers wand and knew exactly what would befall him lest he not obey.

Draco eyed his father, familiar feelings of pride rising to the forefront at his father's ability to control any situation. He was brilliant. Wealthy. Powerful. Everything Draco hoped to be himself one day.

"You're right to be frightened, muggle, however it appears you fear the wrong wizard. It is my son, Draco, who should cause you to cower so."

A delighted smirk graced Draco's face. It was about time his father trusted him with something more than stags and owls.

"Draco please do show our guest how we entertain here in the Malfoy home," Lucius said the picture of a gracious host.

Stepping forward ahead of his father and directly in front of the muggle, Draco had raised his wand, the two condemning words on the tip of his tongue and looked the prisoner in the eye.

His eyes. They had been brown and alive, dancing with fear. There was a silent pleawithin them, fear lurking in those dark depths.

Draco had faltered, surprise hitting him like an ice cold bucket of water being released onto his head...He hadn't known what to expect but surely a muggles eyes were supposed to look largely different than his own?

"Please...Draco. You don't...have to...do this" the man before him had gasped desperately. A final attempt to save himself.

Taken aback by the use of his first name from a muggle...an animal... with eyes so shockingly human, Draco had stood wordlessly, wand arm still raised.

"You dare to call him by name, beast?!" Lucius had snarled coming forward angrily, gracious demeanour forgotten.

The man had pushed back against the wall trying to avoid the angry wizard.

"No no no no I'm-I'm so so so-rry I-"

Lucius boot caught him in the stomach, stealing the muggles breath on a cry of pain.

"Muggle filth. You would be wise to remember your place" the elder Malfoy spoke in a voice barely above a whisper. "I won't have one of your kind sullying a strong pureblood name with your nasty tongue" and he promptly spat in the young man's face.

Draco watched the exchange his wand arm still raised. His father, Lucius Malfoy, had spat. Spat like a common...Weasley. Draco himself had always been taught that spitting was unsightly and undignified.

"Don't think I missed your hesitation, son" Lucius drawled coldly without turning away from the muggle. "Finish the job."

A lump had suddenly filled Draco's throat. Uncertainty lingered in his chest along with massive waves of confusion. No. No confusion. He wanted to do 'd longed for this moment, began preparing for it the moment he'd set foot back onto the Manors grounds at the beginning of summer . He threw his shoulders back and glanced down at the mop of brunette hair, careful to avoid those eyes. Those eyes. Human eyes. Draco's arm began trembling.

"Draco!" Lucius snapped still not facing his son.

Thankful his father couldn't see the increasing amount of panic that was undoubtedly showing on his face, Draco cleared his throat, reminding himself that this was a huge honor, flicked his wand and spoke the words, "Avada Kedavra"

The prisoners eyes had been squeezed tight his body flinching instinctively into the wall...and then they'd opened and Draco made the mistake again of meeting his expressive gaze. The gaze that was becoming shockingly more human by the second.

Draco stared down at his wand in revulsion. What was wrong with it. He'd performed the spell countless times over the past few weeks and while it was a rocky start as expected, he was quiet confident in his abilities to cast it effortlessly now.

"Father the wand-"

"You are not going to blame the perfectly good wand I've purchased you, Draco."

Lucius voice was positively scathing.

"Avada Kedavra!" There was the telltale flash of green light and the muggle had collapsed on the dungeon floor, muffled sobs silenced at last.

Draco wiped furiously at his cheeks but his hands came away dry. None of the offending liquid had spilled. Kneeling to retrieve his sweater from where it had been tossed during his punishment he avoided glancing to the right where the body of the nameless muggle was still sprawled across the floor. He knew those eyes would be open and lifeless. That forbidden panic began to rise again but this time Draco was familiar with that burning sensation and he choked it down and stamped it out before he became an undignified mess again.

'Never look the enemy in the eye lest you mistake them for human' he repeated to himself.

Snatching the jumper from its spot on the floor he hissed in pain while slipping it on, gingerly tugging it over the broken skin of his back. His body ached and his head was spinning but he wouldn't heal his wounds. He would rightfully suffer the consequences.

Smoothing his hair back from his face in an attempt to tidy it he pulled himself together and walked stiffly to the stairs to join his family for dinner.

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"I was born in a thunderstorm, I grew up overnight

I played alone, I played on my own, I survived.

I wanted everything I never had, like the love that comes with light

I wore envy and I hated that but I survived.

I had a one-way ticket to a place where all the demons go

Where the wind don't change and nothing in the ground can ever grow.

No hope, just lies and you're taught to cry in your pillow but I survived."

ALIVE by Sia