Chapter Text
Fucking fuck
FUCK
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May 2, 1998, the Battle of Hogwarts, the day he lost it all. Three months ago he was arrested with his parents and put in a holding cell at the Ministry. Some three weeks later his trial was completed. His mother had already died in her cell and his father was already off in Azkaban. But due to perfect Harry Potter he was only sentenced to a year of house arrest. He should be happy technically that he’s not rotting away forever next to his father. But without his mother Malfoy Manor is empty and oppressive - almost worse than it was during the War.
The halls and rooms were ruined, all tainted with the horrible memories of screaming and cackles. The nightmares lasted every night until he slept on the stones out in his mother’s rose garden. He hadn’t been in it for more than two years. She hadn’t dared try to bring him in it while the Manor was occupied. The Dark Lord had been unable to take one thing from her and that was her Lady Malfoy ring. Even his father had been unable to get it off her. That ring was her right from the moment she bonded with Lucius Malfoy and remained so until she died. It was keyed to the wards of the Malfoy Lady’s garden and had remained her only safe place away from the Death Eaters who tried to rape her in her own home, and her own mad sister. He saw her spend days at a time in the garden, even so much as 9 days on one horrible occasion.
He knew the morning she died that she was gone. He felt the snap in his Magic that her ring was taken off her. He lied to himself, insisting Shacklebolt ordered the Unspeakables to get it off her, or the goblins had confiscated it because his father had dissolved their marriage from his cell. Anything but the truth. Two hours later, four Aurors stopped in front of his cell and opened it enough that one Auror stepped in and set the Lady Malfoy ring next to him on the cot.
He looked up from where he’d been watching the Auror’s steps and smiled unnervingly. He’d seen his Aunt Bella do it the same way enough to know how to copy it and get the Carrows to leave him alone during 7th Year. The three Aurors outside flinched at the sight, but the one in front of him didn’t, only Occluding instead. Smart. If he hadn’t learned from his godfather, he wouldn't have seen it.
He picked up the ring and tossed it up and down with his left hand. Finally he said to the Auror,
“Are there Silencing Charms on this cell?”
“Yes.” the man answered. “Rudimentary ones are in place at all times.”
He smiled at that. “You might want to be upping their strength. I’m in shock right now so I’m still lucid, but I won’t be for long. Us Mad Blacks tend to cackle when we really lose it, and I know damn well at least a few of your coworkers can tell you all about dear Auntie Bella. I’ll be done by nighttime. Tomorrow morning at the latest.”
With that, he slumped against the wall and dazed out the door with cloudy blue-grey eyes. The Auror backed away and all four left once it was clear he was unresponsive.
By 10 am he was humming. It was a little lullaby his mother sang him as a child, a lullaby she’d promised she would sing to his children one day, or teach his Lady Wife.
By 11 am he was crying, thinking about how she would never get to take a stroll in her rose garden again, or taste her favorite macarons and tea. How she’d never see the light of day again, how she would never get to have her freedom and her life back. She never got to walk around the Manor freely again, knowing she was safe and that some random Snatcher or werewolf wasn’t going to try and jump her and tear at her clothes.
By 12 pm he was screaming. And laughing. And still crying. Hysterical sobbing had never been a good look on him, by which he meant he looked fucking fantastic. The one thing Malfoy’s are, have been, and always will be perfect at, has been emotion control. He was given lessons by his father to show ever emotion humanly possible in the “correct” way. Hysteria was never considered a good emotion to show. Occlumency helped with that. But with the official beginning of the War, he got lessons on how to act like a Mad Black. Mad Blacks are and probably always will be taboo, in the sense that just like every disowned Black family member and questionably Non-Human Malfoy family member, they were not to be spoken of. But here he was, less than a week before his 18th birthday, cackling himself to insanity in a Ministry cell because his mother just died and he didn’t even get to see her before she was gone.
The cackling and crying stopped at 11 at night and the guards were obviously relieved.
The next day Harry Potter testified at his trial and got him a reduced sentence of 12 months house arrest. His mixed emotions didn’t settle for days. The only thing he cared about was getting to bury his mother. His father was already off in Azkaban that morning and in some twisted way he was free. Free from nothing and everything.
Two months later he was reading a notice from the Ministry informing him of his mandated attendance for the Hogwarts 8th Year program. He had been chosen by McGonagall to be Head Boy. His partner? None other than Head Girl Hermione fucking Granger.
Salazar’s wrinkled ballsack.
It had to be a Ministry ploy. After all, this just lost him 10 months of his house arrest time. He was supposed to be out of the country by the time he’d be graduating and getting his NEWT’s. There went his entire plan of testing at the Ministry come June. At this rate he’d only be done with his sentence in April of 2000. Absolutely fucking unacceptable.
His plan to leave Britain and try to get a job in the ICW by next summer was ruined. So he mail ordered books and robes. Now all he had to do was sit in his manor and wait.