The room was dark, quiet. My head moved but nothing looked the same. It was so still. Too still. In my mind, being in a room this quiet, is mad. But I couldn't do something about it.
I sat down at the end of my bed and stared at the big wooden door with black metal details. Then i slowly lay down on my back and stared up at the sealing.
I tried to think about good stuff, only good stuff. But it's hard. Being at home brings up so many memories. And the memories I had from here was not the best.
I tried to think about Cedric, whom always seemed to make me happy, all the time.
But not this time.
*
"Aria!".
A voice from outside my bedroom cut off my piece. It was a man, he shouted and walked angrily torwards my bedroom.
"Get the bloody hell away from that fucking bed of yours!".
It was Dered, my father.
A few seconds later the door flung open and there he stood, with a package of cigars and his wand poked up from his coat.
"Father". I said carefully, not to get him angrier than he already was. I stood up in front of him making him stop where he was.
He grunted, "You bloody little girl. Ain't good for nothing but an ash tray".
He grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of my room and down to the sofa. He sat down and I sat next to him. In the sofa in front of us sat three people I knew very well.
"Oh, Aria. You look lovely". Said Narcissa.
I swallowed. Fuck. I was still 'friends' with Draco. More or less we spoke sometimes.
"Answer her!" My father digger his elbow into my side and light up his cigar using his wand.
"Thank you, mrs. Malfoy. So do you, of course!" Said I quickly and moved my eyes the slightest to my left.
Draco. That boy never failed to impress me.
*
As my father talked 'business' with the Malfoy's I just sat there thinking about Cedric. How I missed his touch, his hands being all over my body, and him making me feel same. Oh for the things I would do to have him here in this very moment.
I let my eyes go from place to place in the room. Suddenly I felt a burning pain on my neck. I was so used to my father putting out his not-even-half-smoked cigars on my body that I nearly didn't even do more than flinching.
I could see Narcissa letting her body let out a small gasp. But when Lucius gave her a look she started to smile again.
*
I walked up to my room, my neck and left cheek burned from the cigar butts that had been pressed on my skin.
It was bed-time, I simply grabbed one of Cedric's sweaters that I had stolen and panties then left to the bathroom.
When I got there I took a long look at myself in the mirror, at my asymmetrical face, the fresh burns on my body. And the old ones. Every lite detail on my body had with my father to do.
After I had changed I let my fingers feel my lips, just like Cedric used to do. I miss him.
I walked back to my bedroom and snugged down under the covers.
Everything, felt like it did before, even the smell was exactly the same.
*
I heard my parents screaming at each other. I didn't dare to sleep. Sometimes when my father couldn't fuck my mother, he went to my bedroom instead to get satisfied.
Many times I had woken up with his hands inside my clothes.
Since I didn't want to sleep I looked around my room to find some paper, ink and a quill.
Then i started to write;
Dear Cedric.
I miss you, I miss having you near me, making me feel safe.
The Malfoy's where here tonight, but I wasn't rather interested. I tries to think about you, a lot.
Christmas day tomorrow. Usually all of my fathers friends tries to grope me on those big holidays when a lot of people is around.
I'll manage.
Love you, and Happy Christmas!!
*
I woke up from a thud the next morning. I quickly sat up in my bed and rusted my head making my hair fall down in a decent way. I rubbed my eyes and took an overview over my room.
I carefully walked out of my bed and slipped my foot in my morning slippers. My nightdress made out of silk had been stuck in my panties.
Fuck no. He had been with me, this night, my own father.
*
I sat in the kitchen eating lunch, accompanied by my mother, Clara. She was a loving woman with black hair, she had passed those genes to me.
"Aria". My mother started to say, her eyes were red and watery. She was dressed in a black dress and her hair in a very nice up-do. "I had a conversation with mrs. Malfoy, last night. Before they left here".
I swallowed. "Mother, me and Draco, it's nothing!".
Clara started giggling, "Honey, that I know". She paused and lay her hand on mine. "I know what your father did last night, with the cigars?".
Oh. I looked down at my bowl with cereal. "I'm okay". I mumbled and then pulled my hand back to myself. "Really, mother I- ".
We were interrupted by Dered stumbling in to the kitchen, he burped and sentenced of alcohol. Fresh.
"Dered, perhaps you should rest?". My mother suggested since my father was clearly drunk. But he shook his head and let out another burp.
As I looked his way our eyes connected. As we looked at each other his lips started to rise in one of the corners.
"Dered!". My mother told him off and he looked at her instead.
Sometimes, I wonder why she doesn't leave him, like a muggle would do. But her black wavy hair and his blonde hair were almost inseparable.
My mother had many times told me how they first met. It was a chaotic night at Hogwarts, there was a storm. Both of my parents were in their 5th year. She had told me how they had been out in the dark forest doing work, and then ran in the rain back to school together.
When I was a child I had found that, quite romantic. I still do. But not in the same way.
*
Later at night we had a few wizards and witches eating with us. The Malfoys were there, Bellatrix. And others that I hadn't quite got the name of yet.
"Aria!". The voice came from the grand stairs and I turned around.
I faced Draco Malfoy, dressed in a black tuxedo, the same one from the yuleball. He looked me up and down for a minimum of a second.
"You're wearing a dress". He scoffed at me as I walked some steps and sat down next to the boy on the cold stone steps.
I nodded and gave him a look. "Narcissas idea?" He nodded. I didn't really understand why he got my attention in the beginning. We hadn't really spent much time with each other since earlier this year, at the yuleball.
We sat there for a while, in quiet, until there was a swoosh coming from the top of the stairs, and as we turned around we saw that there stood a man dressed in a long black cape.
It was no normal man, it was he-who-must-not-be-named.