Dreaming Doll

She has not forgotten. Memories flash behind her eyes as she succumbs to the touch of a man like ice. He thrusts himself into her, not minding that she never once looks at him. When he is finished, he rises and gets dressed, leaving her with the soft click of the door. She lays in their bed, her body aching slightly and tears stinging the corners of her eyes. She wills sleep to close in on her. To take her back to the land of her dreams.

A girl with wild ebony hair and a tall, thin body. Cold lips pressed against hers and strong arms pinning her to the bed. Skilled fingers caressing and stroking all the right places, making her shiver in delight. Her breath becoming ragged and her eyes fluttering closed and a small hand clamped over her mouth as she melts into sweet release. Whispering, "I love you, Bella." into the still night air.

She awakens to the first rays of sunlight with a smile on her face.

He brings home "friends" from work. Men with long hair and twisted smiles and an evil gleam in their eyes. Their gazes travel over her, taking in her tight fitting dress that reveals her long legs and small waist. She cannot help but give them a cold stare. He shoots her a warning glance and she sighs, pasting on an impassive face. He likes it when she cooperates and keeps the guests happy.

And when they come to her room in the middle of the night and the first man climbs onto the bed and positions himself over her, she swallows hard and closes her eyes. His hands travel from her shoulders to her neck and down to her breasts. She feels her skin crawl and vomit rise in her throat and prays for the memories to take her away soon. This has happened many times before, and it is much more bearable if only she doesn’t feel it.

"Good evening Narcissa."

He pushes her nightgown up to her waist.

"Good evening Lily."

His hands tug at her knickers.

Lips meeting gently. Hands gently peeling away her shirt and tracing up her thigh.

He enters her. Thrusts himself into her. Hard.

Passionate kisses and hands moving everywhere and both breathing raggedly.

With a satisfied smile, he adjusts his clothing and steps aside to let the next man have his turn.

Stroking silky red hair away from a flushed and smiling face. Arms wrapped tightly around her waist.

She is oblivious to all of it. She cannot see their hungry expressions, or hear Lucius’s cold laughter as he looks on.

"I love you, Narcissa."

"I love you, Lily."

 When it is over, Lucius eases himself onto the bed beside her. He brushes her pale hair away from her face.

Falling asleep in her lover’s arms.

His icy touch shatters the spell. Her eyes flutter open. The warmth fades. She is no longer a sister or a lover. She is Narcissa Malfoy. A possession. An accessory. A toy for a little boy who has not yet grown up. Passed around, shared with his friends before he finally rests to play with it himself.

She waits for the day to end. To fall asleep and be back in a time when she was more.

She has not forgotten. Nor will she ever.