Nothing to Lose
2/3
I couldn't believe that I had woken up beside Draco again finally. For so long, when I woke up I had only seen the emerald wallpaper as I woke up, but today, Draco laid smiling in his sleep beside me.
Just to make sure I wasn't dreaming and making him up, I clenched my eyes shut and opened them again. He was still there when I opened them again; he was still there, and staring back at me.
"What on earth are you doing?" he asked, his pale face smirking in humor.
"Checking to make sure I'm not dreaming," I giggled, kissing his nose and resting my head on his chest.
As we were lying there, the door opened slowly, as if trying to be quiet. I hoped it was only house elf reminding us that breakfast was ready, or even that it was Narcissa or Luscious checking on Draco. As I looked towards the door, my heart sank even deeper into my chest.
"Good morning, Father," I whispered half heartedly, giving a small smile.
"You're gonna wish you were dreaming before the day is over," Voldemort responded, glaring at the two of us, his snake like eyes taking in what he saw.
I lowered my head. I knew how bad it looked for him. His teenage daughter in bed with her boyfriend. And, it didn't help that Draco was only wearing a pair of boxers, and the only clothes I wore were my undergarments. I didn't want to admit to it, but I already had started wishing.
"Get up," he snarled, getting his wand out form his long cloak. I didn't know who exactly the command was for, but we both did. I didn't remove my eyes from my father's as I grabbed my clothes from beside the bed. If he was focusing on me, he wouldn't be able to hurt Draco, and that was just the thing I was trying to go for.
I threw a pair of Draco's pants at him when I saw them on the floor. I smiled, hoping it would be enough to let him know we'd get through this.
My father glared at us as we both pulled on clothes, and then motioned for me to go with him silently. I looked back at Draco, my head hanging low. As I hesitated, I felt a familiar, uncomfortable tugging sensation I knew as the Imperious Curse dragging me out the door. As it slammed shut when Voldemort and I were out, my father turned on me. He immediately hit me in the face, using his forearm to slam me back onto the door.
I had no doubt that he would hurt me, maybe try to kill me. I just wasn't expecting it to be non-magical. The physical contact hurt worse than it would have if he used the Cruciatus Curse.
"What did you do?" he yelled. "Why didn't your little boyfriend do it? What did you say to him?"
I whimpered, cowering back against the door, trying to open it in vain. He had locked the door, and I had no wand to even defend myself with. "I didn't. I haven't talked to him since Spring."
"Don't lie," he said calmly, moving my hair out of my face. Already, the hair was wet from the tears coming out of my eyes. "You look so much like your mother when you do."
I once again let out a soft whimper, letting him know how afraid I was. If I showed how close I was to giving in, he might let me bargain a way to keep Draco unharmed.
He backed up from me and motioned for me to move downstairs. "How long have you and Draco been seeing each other?" he asked conversationally as we walked into the dining room. He had never known about Draco and I, so I knew the question would be coming.
"Since before I moved here. In third year."
He shook his head, disappointed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you'd not let me stay here. You'd make me stop seeing him."
My father opened the door to the outside courtyard. It was really a big open sunroom, because it was surrounded by a sunroom with a roof, and glass windows all around. He summoned a bucket of water, and then got a cane from the side of a tree.
"Get down," he said, pointing at the stone walkway in the middle of the courtyard. "You can't go behind my back for four years and expect forgiveness, can you?" he asked, pushing me down.
"No, sir," I mumbled, getting on my stomach. I'd seen him punish house elves this way, and I knew what was coming. First, he'd pour the ice cold water on my back, then he'd hit it with the cane.
"Ready," he hissed, pouring the bucket on my back and on my hair. The breath froze in my chest, and I could barely focus as he finished, ending with several hits on my back and head.
Just to make sure I wasn't dreaming and making him up, I clenched my eyes shut and opened them again. He was still there when I opened them again; he was still there, and staring back at me.
"What on earth are you doing?" he asked, his pale face smirking in humor.
"Checking to make sure I'm not dreaming," I giggled, kissing his nose and resting my head on his chest.
As we were lying there, the door opened slowly, as if trying to be quiet. I hoped it was only house elf reminding us that breakfast was ready, or even that it was Narcissa or Luscious checking on Draco. As I looked towards the door, my heart sank even deeper into my chest.
"Good morning, Father," I whispered half heartedly, giving a small smile.
"You're gonna wish you were dreaming before the day is over," Voldemort responded, glaring at the two of us, his snake like eyes taking in what he saw.
I lowered my head. I knew how bad it looked for him. His teenage daughter in bed with her boyfriend. And, it didn't help that Draco was only wearing a pair of boxers, and the only clothes I wore were my undergarments. I didn't want to admit to it, but I already had started wishing.
"Get up," he snarled, getting his wand out form his long cloak. I didn't know who exactly the command was for, but we both did. I didn't remove my eyes from my father's as I grabbed my clothes from beside the bed. If he was focusing on me, he wouldn't be able to hurt Draco, and that was just the thing I was trying to go for.
I threw a pair of Draco's pants at him when I saw them on the floor. I smiled, hoping it would be enough to let him know we'd get through this.
My father glared at us as we both pulled on clothes, and then motioned for me to go with him silently. I looked back at Draco, my head hanging low. As I hesitated, I felt a familiar, uncomfortable tugging sensation I knew as the Imperious Curse dragging me out the door. As it slammed shut when Voldemort and I were out, my father turned on me. He immediately hit me in the face, using his forearm to slam me back onto the door.
I had no doubt that he would hurt me, maybe try to kill me. I just wasn't expecting it to be non-magical. The physical contact hurt worse than it would have if he used the Cruciatus Curse.
"What did you do?" he yelled. "Why didn't your little boyfriend do it? What did you say to him?"
I whimpered, cowering back against the door, trying to open it in vain. He had locked the door, and I had no wand to even defend myself with. "I didn't. I haven't talked to him since Spring."
"Don't lie," he said calmly, moving my hair out of my face. Already, the hair was wet from the tears coming out of my eyes. "You look so much like your mother when you do."
I once again let out a soft whimper, letting him know how afraid I was. If I showed how close I was to giving in, he might let me bargain a way to keep Draco unharmed.
He backed up from me and motioned for me to move downstairs. "How long have you and Draco been seeing each other?" he asked conversationally as we walked into the dining room. He had never known about Draco and I, so I knew the question would be coming.
"Since before I moved here. In third year."
He shook his head, disappointed. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you'd not let me stay here. You'd make me stop seeing him."
My father opened the door to the outside courtyard. It was really a big open sunroom, because it was surrounded by a sunroom with a roof, and glass windows all around. He summoned a bucket of water, and then got a cane from the side of a tree.
"Get down," he said, pointing at the stone walkway in the middle of the courtyard. "You can't go behind my back for four years and expect forgiveness, can you?" he asked, pushing me down.
"No, sir," I mumbled, getting on my stomach. I'd seen him punish house elves this way, and I knew what was coming. First, he'd pour the ice cold water on my back, then he'd hit it with the cane.
"Ready," he hissed, pouring the bucket on my back and on my hair. The breath froze in my chest, and I could barely focus as he finished, ending with several hits on my back and head.