Grey

Draco sat alone, his eyes blurred with tears. He sniffed, trying to keep his sobs silent.

He could hear his father's footsteps moving up the long corridor. He knew he didn't have long before the punishment began.

He rocked back and forward on his knees, closing his eyes and wishing he was somewhere else. Somewhere so far away from here, from Malfoy Manor and his father who hurt him so much.

He waited for his mother's voice to ring out, loud and clear along the corridor. He waited to hear her stop his father, to tell him to leave their son be for once.

When he didn't hear her voice, he imagined it instead.

"Don't touch him! Don't hurt him again! Don't you dare, Lucius Malfoy!"

And then she would rush into his bedroom and scoop him up into her arms. She would hold him close, hold him tight. And she would smell of roses and she would kiss his head. She would tell him that nothing would ever hurt him again.

But those words never came. Narcissa Malfoy never left the master bedroom. She never followed her husband into her son's room, never told him to stop what he was doing.

And little Draco Malfoy knew why.

She was scared.

She was supposed to protect him but she couldn't.

Lucius Malfoy's footsteps got louder, got closer.

Draco trembled. He opened his eyes and stared fixated at the high ceiling.

The ceiling of his prison.

That was all that the room was. It was a prison because he couldn't escape. It was a cell where he was tortured.

The door handle turned and Draco faced it, waiting.

He shut his eyes as the first blow fell.

Through the grey mist behind his eyes, the eight year old Draco though he could see heaven.

He just couldn't reach it yet.