Just A Fan Girl

Bellatrix appraised him from top to bottom, clicking her tongue as she turned his chin. Every fiber, every muscle, every atom screamed at him to look away, pull his jaw away from her claws, and go anywhere else. Fucking Hogwarts sounded better than this hell. And it had only been a minute inside.

“He’s too thin, Cissy.” She snapped. “Much too thin. What have you been feeding my nephew?”

“He eats well, Bella.” She defended. “Draco has quite the sweet tooth, in fact.”

She smiled at that, teeth rotten, sharp. “Is that so?” Some memory sparked in her eyes; something from long that had nothing to do with him. She turned to Narcissa. “Just like Daddy?”

“In many ways.” She answered proudly.

“Right, right. Of course.” Bellatrix smoothed down his hair, carding her pale, cold fingers through the blonde strands. She leaned in close, voice dropping to a languid whisper. “Last of the blacks.”

“I’m a Malfoy.” Draco spit it out before he could bite his tongue. He was scared of his aunt, always had been. But now she didn’t just act like a fiend from a nightmare, she damn well looked like one too. It churned his stomach to have her so close. He could still smell Azkaban on her, as if the filth was a permanent fixture on her skin. He didn’t intend to say a word to her, but all the nonsense about being a Black dredged up his memories of their last visit. Why was his mother not pulling him away, as she had done then?

“Ha! A Malfoy.” She gripped his hair by the roots as she laughed and tugged. Hard enough to make him wince, quick enough that she instantly let go. Easily could have been brushed off as an accident. Easily could have been a misunderstanding. “Well, Draco… I have to say I’m surprised. After hearing what your traitorous father did-”

“-father?”

“- I’d think you’d be all too eager to shed the Malfoy shame. Take up the Black name, live your legacy.”

“He will do no such thing Bella.” His mother finally intervened, after what seemed like an eternity. She stood between Draco and his aunt, and Draco was sure his heart rate had doubled since he saw the main gates.  “And I thought we discussed letting me talk to him first. He has no idea-”

“He should be upset that he failed, not that he has to live the consequences of it!”

He was a pot boiling over. A volcano ready to explode. Too much energy in his body. Too many thoughts racing through his head. The busts on the pedestals shattered around him, wandless magic crackling through the air as he roared, “What the fuck is going on?!”

Narcissa and Bellatrix immediately stopped, turned to face him, stunned to silence.

His aunt smiled. “Just like a Black.”

~.~

Had it been an insult or a compliment? It rattled around in Draco’s head. His knee jerk reaction was that she was speaking from a place of pride. But when Draco learned that Bellatrix had killed her cousin Sirius Black, he wondered if her words were indeed a threat.

~.~

Interestingly enough, the news that his father had been locked away did not startle Draco.

His mother thought to be gentle, that the news might blow him over, literally knock him down. Instead, it crashed over him, a wave so intense he felt numb.

Of course his father was in Azkaban. There was no way he would allow this madness; his aunt and her lunacy, the vermin that came and left the manor to skulk around his home. These people wouldn’t be invited for a holiday party at Malfoy Manor, let alone encouraged to board unless something dire had happened to his father.

In some respect, it surprised Draco to know his father had failed whatever half-baked mission they aimed to achieve. Lucius had always been so confident, so in control of everything and everyone. In all his life, he had never seen his father incompetent. It was difficult to imagine what it looked like.

From the way his new house guests snickered, the gossip that was swapped in not-so-hushed whispers in the halls, it had been a sight to see. That was the way those assholes put it anyway.

Two men, Yaxley and some lackey of his, seemed to revel in it. Bringing the Malfoy name down into the mud gave them a sick sort of pleasure.

“Just a matter of time until this place falls into the right hands.” Yaxley said, smirking as he glanced towards Draco. “The Dark Lord promised me some big rewards to clean up after Malfoys fuck up..”

Draco snapped his attention to Yaxley, trying up his courage as his squared his shoulders. Yaxley was a tall man, slim, but fit. If he threw a punch, Draco was sure he wouldn’t escape without a few broken bones. And wouldn’t he love that, the filth he was?

“Don’t you dare say another fucking word against my father.” He seethed.

“Draco! Stop!” His mother rushed to him. The woman seemed like a magnet since he came home, never far from his side. His mother gripped his arm as she pulled him back. Draco had clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.  “Draco, Stop.”

He felt like hitting Yaxley, felt like shaking his mother off of him, but he could feel her fingers dig into his skin, her hands trembling.

“Mind your temper, boy.” Yaxley took his time as he moved his gaze to Narcissa, looking her up and down slowly- too slowly.  “Mummy won’t always be around to protect you.”

“Don’t fucking look at my mother-”

“-Mother, father. Where should I look then, boy?”

“Yaxley.” She commanded, “You are a guest in my home. I will not have you acting in an uncouth manner. Please take your leave for the night.”

Yaxlet nodded, but sized Draco up before he turned to leave. “S’fine. The Dark Lord asked for me anyhow.”

“Lowlives.” Narcissa hissed. “Not worth your time, dear.” His mother had said, gripping his arm as she pulled him back. Draco had clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He fucking hated this.

Draco twisted out of his mothers grasp and stormed the stairs, eager to get to his room, to find comfort in the only four walls that had any ounce of normalcy.

So it should have been no surprise to see his Aunt Bella waiting for him at the landing, arms crossed, lips pressed together in disapproval. In the shitshow that was now his life, it made sense that he wouldn’t be able to carve out even a minute of refuge for himself.

“Should’ve taught him a lesson.” She spat. “Scum like that, talking to a Black that way.” She craned her neck to see if Yaxley was about, then raised her voice to yell,  “Disgraceful!”

“Right?” He felt his lip draw up in a sneer. “Makes me fucking sick.” Draco rolled his shoulders, trying to loosen the knots in his neck. He had only spoken a few times to his aunt, and never typically alone. He had thought she would have pounced on him, if the way she acted his first day back was any indication. But it seemed that the Dark Lord kept her busy.

“Just a lousy upstart, that Yaxley. Thinks he’s in The Dark Lords good graces because he did one mission for him and earned some praise.” It was clear his aunt felt the same distaste he did.

Draco found himself saying, “As if that's all it takes.” Though he was unsure why. In his house of enemies, perhaps he was trying to find an ally.

“Exactly!” she exclaimed, uncrossing her arms and leaning forward. “The Dark Lord isn’t a fickle man, Draco.” Her voice was low, serious. “But he does not take mistakes lightly.” She gripped his forearm as she spoke, eyes ablaze with passion. “It's serious business, not something to be toyed around with for status, like that Yaxley.” He watched as Bellatrix brought her hand to his face, caressing his cheek with her thumb. “You know better though, right love? Why we need to do this work? We can’t let the Yaxley’s of the world look down on us.”

“No,” he said, the words sticking in his throat.

“So we need to stick together, you and me.” She spoke slow, searching his eyes. “Cissy is too tender-hearted, always has been. She can’t endure this much longer.”

Draco nodded his head in agreement.

“We need to get this family back under control. You and me, Draco.”

~.~

As scary as Bellatrix had seemed to Draco as a child, he had to admit he somewhat admired her. She was unafraid of anyone; perhaps it was simply that she was crazed and fear was no longer an emotion she registered.

But when Bella hexed Pettigrew for speaking to Narcissa in a demeaning, demanding tone, he couldn’t help but feel that maybe they were on the same side.

~.~

If Draco had thought that Aunt Bella had made an idle proposition earlier, he was sorely mistaken. Draco took family seriously- the Malfoys were known for it- but Bella had a devotion to the Black name and lineage that made her a woman possessed.

“You’re our last hope, Draco. The prodigal son, eh?” She smiled at him like a snake.

Being the last hope didn’t just involve a title. Apparently it required him to wake before dawn and train. Bella was quick with a wand; it made him shudder to think how lethal she would have been if she had been in practice all these years. If Draco had assumed she’d be rusty with a few spells, he was sorely mistaken.

The bitch hit hard.

Every spell, every curse was merciless. One to stiffen the muscles, to set them on fire. One to turn the blood to lead. One to boil the skin, one to derail the mind. She taught him curse after curse, dueling with him until he got it right.

‘Why can’t she have her own damn kid?’  Draco wondered. ‘Why pin all her hopes on me?’

When he could not perform, could not match her sophisticated skill, she turned angry. Face red, brows furrowed and teeth clenched.

“No!” She shrieked, aiming her wand at him. She sent a spark of electricity his way- a curse to seep into his bones. “Do you think your opponent will be as forgiving as me?” She broke the spell, leaving Draco huddled and wheezing.

“Do it again.”

~.~

Even night time proved to give Draco little peace. With his head on his mountain of pillows, a cooling charm over his four poster bed, a light comforter to balance the temperature, he still could not get comfortable. He found himself balling his hands into fists, cursing under his breath until he could not take it anymore. With a quick silencing charm, he would scream until his voice was hoarse.

It was only when he was exhausted, both physically and mentally, that he was able to close his eyes. No sooner would he shut them, but the events of his day would flash in his mind. Where was his father? Was he faring well? His mother, his poor mother, how much more could she take? How much more could he take?

No. He needed a distraction. Needed to focus on something else. Something pleasant- fucking anything. Something consuming.

Granger.

She was probably at the Weasleys, spending her days filled with obnoxious red-heads and Potter. The idea filled his belly with fury. What would they be doing, all alone with nothing but the summer heat? Did Weasley have his hands all over her? Pawing away like an animal no doubt. The clumsy oaf probably couldn’t piece together how to unhook a bra, let alone give her an ounce of pleasure.

No. No, no, no. That couldn’t be right. He had heard before that Potter spent his summers with whatever bit of a family he had. That Granger went home to hers. He had heard her talking once, about trips and teeth. It made little sense, but it had instantly relieved him to know that she did not spend her time with those two in the summer. Most likely.

Probably.

No, definitely. That's what he had to go with. He needed something positive. Needed to believe there was still something left for him, even if she never was his.

~.~

The Dark Lord was due to have a visit soon, at least that was the gossip around the kitchen. His mother had fretted nervously, ordering the elves from this room to the next, making them clean and re-clean every surface on the estate.

As anxious as it made Narcissa, Bella seemed to be buzzing with energy.

And it only made her push harder.

And kinship he had felt with her had quickly dissipated. It was clear she was self serving, though she did have some affection for her sister and nephew. All in the name of family, no matter how twisted and fucked up it was.

“ Why are you incapable of doing this?!” Bellatrix screamed. It was early and Draco still felt sluggish. “Lazy like your father! No ambition! No follow through!” She punctuated each insult with a flick of her wand, the hex cutting to the bone. Draco could feel blood trickle down his forehead, dribbling down his brow. His lip was split in two, the taste of iron in his mouth. Taking the back of his hand, he tried to wipe away the fresh cuts.

“I don’t want to fucking do this anymore.” Draco spat. He had never wanted to do it in the first place.

“Oh, sweet Draco. You think it's a choice?” She let loose curse, one that made his body feel like glass- stiff and fragile. Draco was sure that if he made even the slightest movement he would shatter. She strode over to him with impatience.

“This is your destiny, Draco. You need to seize it! When the Dark Lord comes, he will want to know your heart is pure. Is your heart pure, Draco?”

He swallowed, trying to control his breathing. “Yes.” He answered too slowly.

“Of course it is, dear. And your mind? Free of treacherous thoughts? No ideas of rebellion rattling around that brain of yours? Scheming like your father-!”

A pain unlike anything Draco had experienced crashed through his head. He had practiced briefly with Snape- but it was nothing in comparison to this. Snape had been intrusive, poking and prodding- giving him room to defend himself. Teachable moments, perhaps.

This was different.

Bellatrix did not poke, she shredded. It felt like a knife ripped apart every synapse, lit every thought ablaze. She turned over the images, rifled through his memories. The ones of his childhood, the anger he felt towards Potter.

But of course, Potter lead to Granger.

He tried to shut her out. Tried to keep her away from Hermione. But Fuck, Bellatrix was skilled and he was so weak. So fucking weak.

Filthy images, fantasies, passing glances filled Bellatrix’s mind. An obsession laid open for his aunt to see. His darkest secret, exposed to the most dangerous individual he knew.

She would kill him now. He was certain of it.

By the time she took her claws out of Dracos mind, she was panting.

“That filthy mudblood?” She whispered. “That filthy-” She sent a curse, fire in her eyes.

“-little-” Another, jabbing at his spine.

“Mudblood-” She curled her lips in disgust as her wand slashed through the air.

“-Whore!”  

He was crying, there was no use denying it. He would spend his last moments on Earth curled up in a ball. Lying in fetal position, waiting for death at his aunt's hands.

Bellatrix crouched next to him, resting her chin on her palm. She looked furious, gritting her teeth, rage barely contained.

“This won’t do. It won’t do!” She screeched. “You were meant to carry on the Black name.” Her tone turned sad, remorseful. “How can you be so like Andromina? Poor Cissy, to go through this again.”

No, not like his aunt. Not like the one that had been disowned. The one better off dead.

“I- I’m not.” He was missing a front tooth, could feel the broken bones and shattered bits in his mouth.

“And the Dark Lord? What will he say?” She cut her eyes to her nephew. “Your mother will pay the price for this too. The Dark Lord, he’ll say our family is tainted, the seed is bad! The line full of traitors! Your mother, my dear Cissy-!” Bellatrix seemed to conveniently forget that she was part of the line she so easily called traitorous.

“It’s, its just-” He breathed in, broken ribs stabbing. “Just an attraction.” Draco panted. “Thanks all. Aunt Bella, I, I swear.”

She considered him for a moment, a crumpled heap of a man.

“A passing attraction, you say?” She rolled her neck as she sucked on her bottom lip.

“It is.” He turned to look her square in the eye. There was a moment of pause before she answered.

“That better be all.” She breathed a sigh of relief.  “Young children do have peculiar tastes.”

“Right,” He was exhausted, utterly defeated.

“I remember when I was in school, some of the questionable boys I found cute. No accounting for taste in these years, you know.”

“You’re ri-right Aunt Bella. It’s- its nothing serious.”

“If it’s nothing serious, then it’s nothing to trouble the Dark Lord over.” She said quickly.

“Y-Yes, Aunt Bella.”

She nodded, as if listening to him from far away.

“We’ll just have to train all the harder. Won't we, love?”

~.~

As Draco nursed the bones he was currently regrowing, he wondered if Hermione would have like the manor. Before his aunt, before the wild creatures had taken over it.

He wondered if she would have liked the garden, would have minded the peacocks. He drifted to sleep, dreaming over Hermione Granger on his broomstick. Hugging him tight, hugging him close.

~.~

The day the Dark Lord had come had been surprisingly cheerful. Bellatrix had been away since the night before, so he was out from under his thumb. He had taken an early breakfast with his mother, now accustomed to being awakened before the sun even rose. After a light breakfast, he had retreated to the library, found a book he had been meaning to read, and drifted off to sleep in the plush leather arm chair. It had been the time he had slept well since he had arrived home.

A loud pop had awakened him. An elf cleared its throat, announcing his arrival.

“Master Draco is needed in the dining room.” He wrung his hands nervously around his shirt. Even the elves had not escaped the wrath of their new guests.

“Thank you.” He sighed heavily, not ready to leave. Not ready to give up on his dream of normalcy.

This had been typical for him, had been his everyday once. Now it was nothing more than a vacation from his daily life. Misery was his new normal.

“Master Draco must come quickly!” The elves' voice lowered. “Misses says it's urgent.”

Draco stood and pushed open the heavy oak doors and walked towards the dining room.