The Revealing Moonlight

Draco stood in the shadow of an ice-cold marble column beneath the dappled moonlight. For sixteen years he took all had had to give. The first rule of being a Malfoy was to never show your weakness. Never let the other side know you were cracking.

So he lived up to the great Malfoy name. For sixteen years Lucius came home every night and took his feelings out on his only son. He didn't tell anyone about it and Draco didn't let it show that it was slowly ripping him apart inside.

Often Lucius would come home in the early hours of the morning after an angry meeting with the other Death Eaters, and would be so rough with Draco that he'd scream in pain and torment. Other times he'd be distraught. Draco had lost count of the times His father had come into his room in the night when it was so black he thought his tears were hidden.

But the moon revealed everything. And Draco could always see the thick salty pearls sliding down his father's cheeks above him in the silver light.

It was ripping him apart him inside. Draco felt he was drowning in a sea of moonlight. Every time his father knocked the door and walked into his room at night it felt as though he were sinking further. He couldn't crack. To show weakness wasn't an option. So never would he speak of it to anyone. Slender scarlet ribbons bloomed over Draco's arms as he tried to save himself from drowning in the silver light.

And at last he understood what needed to be done. He heard the familiar rap at the large oak door of his room, and the ancient brass hinges creak as it slowly swung open. It was so ironic that Lucius always knocked. He could never be accused of vulgarity. He watched listlessly as his father strode towards him in his bed, his black robes billowing behind him. And as he reached over, Draco could see tears brimming in Lucius' cold, grey eyes. He tore the bedcover off in one adroit movement and bent closer to envelop his sons mouth in a passionate kiss.

The moonlight glinted on the knife Draco pulled from under his pillow. Quickly and deftly he sliced into his father's stomach, and watched the honoured Malfoy blood pour over his black satin bed sheets. Slowly Lucius crumpled to the floor. As slight groan escaped his lips as the tears fell from his eyes. The cold moonlight making his face appear harsher and paler than it was, and exaggerating his scared and confused eyes.

But that was what Malfoy's were. Ice. And as Draco stood in the shadow of the marble pillar and gazed at his father's dead body, he let out a small and amused laugh. Even now he could still see the large, salty pearls falling from his father's cold and lifeless eyes. His father never could disguise his feelings that well. He could never conceal his weakness.

But the moonlight showed everything. It always did.