No Way Out

Chapter one-

Draco pulled his sleeve over his left wrist. It stung smartly from the cuts he made late last night, early that morning. No one knew, no one found out, no one needed to know. He feels like he can't control his life, since it is run by his father. Draco never wanted training to be a Death Eater. He never wanted the temporary Dark Mark on his right forearm that was entirely his father's idea. This is how he feels he can cope with the pain. This is his addiction.

"Why? Why do I do this?"

Draco looked in the mirror, his reflection stared back. It was foreign to him. He never liked his reflection. It is like a lie to him. His hair messed, his face paler, and his eyes blood shot. A nasty taste lies in his mouth. Flashes of that night came back to him; the one that stuck out most was the firewhisky burning his throat when he drank. Draco spat in the sink and started to bush his teeth. It didn't help, it was still there. With a wet comb from the water from the sink, he combed his hair. It didn't look any better.

With a last look in the mirror he hurried to the kitchen where he looked for coffee beans for a pot of coffee. There were none. Draco cursed under his breath. He needed caffeine. He retrieved his cloak from the back of the lazy chair and Disapparated outside the nearest wizard café. He pushed the door open and the bell above the door rang.

"Coffee, please; black, to go." Draco said to the woman behind the cash register

"That'll be 2.59." He paid her. "Just a minute," she said.

Draco sat down by a chair and picked up the Daily Prophet. Skimming through it, he saw nothing that new and put it down. A family of three sat at a table nearest to him. It reminded of his family; his mother and father and him.

"I don't know why you want to live in a flat; there is a nice home here with your father and me," his mother urged him, her hand on his that night before when he had dinner with his parents. They were at the dinner table.

"Mum, I can't stay here, you know that."

"But Draco, dear, we want you to stay."

"Father wouldn't give a crap if I leave."

"Draco! Don't talk about your father that way. He loves you, you should know that."

"No, I don't. Mum, I'm staying in my flat, that's it."

"Lucius! Oh, Lucius, you hear what he is saying?"

"Yes, indeed," his father was across the table and had no emotion in his voice, he never had. Draco clearly remembered when he was little and hearing his father's angry voice. He did his best to not make him mad, for Lucius's voice is significantly scary when he was mad.

"Well..?"

"Clearly, he needs some respect for his parents."

"WHAT? Respect?! If anyone needs respect, it is me!" Draco was now on his feet, almost yelling.

"We give you a decent home and what do you want? To live in a dump in the part of the town that's what!"

"It isn't a dump! It is better then here!"

"Better? This one of the best money can buy!" Lucius got to his feet, hands on the table.

"Both of you, please, let's talk about this in a descent way," Narcissa pleaded, coming close to tears.

"'Cissy, stay out of this!"

There was a quiet silence. The big grandfather clock in the hallway clicked for a few moments. Draco heard the house-elves cleaning in the master grand archway.

"Lucius, I am your wife, you should side with me."

"But I'm the man; I have the pants and wear them. You follow MY orders."

"Honey, really."

"I said, SHUT UP, WOMAN!"

"DON'T TALK TO MY MOTHER THAT WAY!" Draco bellowed with all the ounce of dignity he had left.

"I CAN TALK TO HER ANYWAY I WANT!" Lucius had an evil look in his eyes. Draco was now somewhat scared.

POW! It came as quick as that. Lucius Malfoy hit his son. Draco fell to the floor and Narcissa screamed. "You...don't...talk to me...like that," Lucius spat kicking Draco in the ribs. Tears of pain gathered in his eyes.

Feeling proud of his discipline with this child, Lucius walked over to Narcissa, she whimpered with fear. She didn't dare to run; it would only get worse that way. Time seemed to slow, Draco could hear himself breathe, and panic rose in Draco's body.

"When I tell you to keep your trap shut, you shut it. And don't you ever, ever talk to me that way with our son present, or anyone with that matter."

He came closer to her. Draco, with pain, sat up and saw his mother's eyes. They were big as saucers; a tear escaped them. Draco needed- wanted to help her.

"Here's your coffee, sir."

"What?"

"Your coffee, sir," the counter lady said again, holding the coffee in front of him.

Shocked Draco took it and muttered a thank you. When he left, he saw the counter lady staring at him then nervously away to help another customer. He passed the window of the café and glanced at the family. They were talking, something his family never done, it almost always ended up in yelling. Draco couldn't help but thinking was how he desperately wanted his family to be like that. He remembered when he was five and his parents fought one night. He heard it from his bed. He couldn't sleep that night, he cried all that night, fearing it was his fault. The next morning his mother got down on one knee, put one hand on his shoulder, and looking him directly in the eye. She told him it wasn't his fault, he shouldn't have thought that, it'll never be that way and sent him playing outside. Now, Draco feared, it was his fault. If he just didn't go to dinner that night it probably wouldn't have happened. He wiped his eyes as he started walking. He felt in his heart that there was no way out of the family business.

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