Bridges Burned | By : articcat621 Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1328 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A/N: Enjoy!
Chapter 2
Draco climbed up the stairs into the dark space. He knew his father would have a fit if he saw Draco poking around up there. Draco rolled his eyes. It's probably where he hides all his precious dark artifacts.
Draco knew his father claimed his was Imperiused during the War, but Draco knew better. Every day, he listened to his father try and shove that pureblood supremacy crap down his throat. It was getting boring, but Lucius seemed to think it was the right thing to say.
When Draco asked his mother how she felt about all that, she simply remained tight lipped, sadness creeping onto her face. Draco had always wondered why his mother was like that. She never liked to talk about the past.
Draco heard a creak and his eyes snapped up. He knew he was the only one up there so he felt a bit frightened.
A sob filled his eyes. Narrowing his eyes, Draco crept forward. Making sure he was hidden, he peeked around the corner, surprised to find his mother on the floor weeping.
Immediately, he wanted to run to her, to find out what was wrong. Why on earth would his mother be in the attic crying? It just didn't make any sense.
Draco looked closer and saw there was a box lying on the floor. It was opened, with many different things strewn about it. His mother was crying over whatever was in that box.
"I have to find out what's in there," Draco mumbled softly to himself. He didn't know why, but he just wanted to know.
He turned around, silently making his way downstairs. It was almost time for dinner and he didn't want his mother to know he had been in the attic. Draco silently determined that he would go into the attic tomorrow morning and find out what was in that box.
Walking through the hall, he glanced up at a family portrait. It was taken during the War, with Draco as baby in his mother's arms, his father standing next to them, along with his Aunt Bellatrix and Uncle Roddy.
Draco shuddered, taking in his aunt's wild appearance. He thought she seemed crazy, though he wouldn't dare voice those opinions out loud. He was just glad she was locked up in prison, so he didn't have to deal with her.
Draco made his way towards the dinner table, not looking forward to seeing his father.
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