Broken Skulls

Chapter I: Breaking

Blonde hair matted to his forehead, caked in blood, pain coursing his body. He gasped for breath as the wand was lifted. The little boy collapsed to the ground.

"Never again," a cool, drawling voice said, mocking him.

"Yes, father, never again." Routine, just agree, he'll let go, he'll go away. His bones ached from the torture, down to his very core. It was discomforting to know his own father would hurt him so.

With a swish of his cloak, the elder Malfoy left the room, grunting with dissatisfaction. Another blink of the eye and his mother was cradling him in her arms. She was the only one who cared for him.

"Are you all right, Draco?" she cooed softly. The pained look on her face stood out even in the low light that was associated with the night.

"Fine," he lied. That bastard would get it soon. No one crossed Draco Malfoy and got away with it. Well, except for HIM in the past. Draco swore to get revenge on his father, the Death Eater. The only question was how to do it ...

*    *    *

Years later, the little boy named Draco was grown up. Almost fifteen, his father had yet to receive his payback, much to Draco's dismay.

A few weeks more and he would be back where he felt the best, away from home. Malfoy Manor was comfortable and his mother was very caring, but Lucius was unbearable. The pain he caused Draco was cruel, merciless, unfair. The very thought reminded him of the promise he had made so many times after being put under the Cruciatus Curse.

What would be a proper punishment for such a thing? In rage, Draco could think of nothing. A life sentence in Azkaban wasn't even worth it. His anger surrounded him, encasing him in a bubble of hate.

It had happened again the night before. Draco truly had done nothing this time. Lucius had Apparated into the Manor with a pained look in his face but a fire of hatred in his eyes. He sought out his son and fed his anger through him. There was no doubt in Draco's mind that Lucius had been put through pain, possibly from the Dark Lord, himself.

Avoiding the glaring eyes of his father, Draco bustled around, amusing himself with trinkets just to pass the time. An impulse in the back of his mind reminded him of something he had to do.

He marched into his mother's room and found her on the bed looking at old photographs. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that in each one she held, there was a small, pale boy laughing merrily.

"Mother, may I leave to a friend's house for the day?" Her bottom lip quivered slightly. She really did love him. It hurt her to see Lucius hurt him, so she cared for him as best as she could.

"Of course, dear. Where will you be?" She only seemed slightly reluctant to let him go.

"The Parkinson's."

*    *    *

She comforted him as well. She only comforted him more, though. That's why he preferred here more than there. He kissed her deeply, tasting her sweet flavors, strawberry, cream, roses. ... It was so sensual, so desired.

Pansy was a good friend. Certainly not a good girlfriend, as she was a supreme gossip, but she could relieve a mans stress as best as anyone could.

He whispered softly in her ear, making her shiver. He loved the power, the sheer control he had. With a lying word here and a false endearment there, he could make her fall for him. It was all too easy, he thought.

It was the next morning, the day after he asked for permission to stay for the day. He never said stay the night but certain ... factors ... called for him to rest till the next day. Draco would leave in a matter of minutes, back to the hell he called home.

He had to find some way to leave that wretched place. All he would have to do is force one of those dimwitted fools, Crabbe and Goyle, to ask if he could stay the rest of the summer. Then he would simply stay at Pansy's till it was time to go back to Hogwarts. Again, it was all too easy.

Leaving Pansy behind, he Flooed home and raced to his room to write one of the goons to invite him for the summer. Sending off the letter, Draco plopped onto his bed and fell to sleep, seeing as he hadn't slept too much the night before ...