Dreadfully Yours, Lucretia Malfoy | A Marauders Era Fanfic

Chapter 1: Hogwarts Bound

August 31st, 1971:

Lucretia Acantha Malfoy was not dead.

Sure, she looked devastatingly haunting. Her gaunt cheeks stuck out sharply against pale sallow skin, the pits underneath steely grey eyes that seemed to swing in and out of focus. Long silver hair, thinning against her skull.

With each step, her gasps for breath became much more pronounced and it was impossible to ignore her presence as she entered a room.

But here she was, very much alive. Much to the disappointment of her father.

The very thought of sending her in such a state to Hogwarts riddled him with fear; the very thought that this sickly excuse of a witch was to represent his bloodline. Her elder brother eclipsed her in every way possible and yet, Abraxas could never seem to escape his shortcomings that had allowed such a weak display of his own power. 

"Lucretia, have you packed your belongings?" Abraxas demands as she drags herself into the parlor, her posture stiffening at the sight of her father sitting in his beaten old armchair. 

"Yes father; I've been packed since this morning," She replies truthfully, allowing herself to sink onto the nearest couch.

And that much was true; Lucretia had not felt such excitement since she had discovered her magical abilities. The very idea that she would be following her older brother into the grand halls of Hogwarts was enticing to say the least.

"Come here," Her father utters, motioning to his side with hurried sweeps of his hand.

The girl stands apprehensively, her bare feet padding softly against the oaken floors to her father's side.

His smile is cramped on his features, as if a foreign concept.

And then his hand is at the side of her face, knocking her head to one side with a stunning force.

She falls with a thud, her shoulder shoving carelessly against the floor. Pain blossoms through every inch of her skin, but she bites viciously at her cheek to stem the tears; knowing she hasn't even taken the worst of it.

"Do not talk back to me like that, ever," He continues to smile as he adjusts the rings on his fingers; blood from the cut on her head coating them in a coppery sheen. His fingers curl tightly around the silvery serpent head of his cane, his intent clear.

Her head bobs up and down as she scrambles to her feet, nearly jumping at the hand curling around her bicep. Through a sheen of tears, she can make out her brother's face, terse as he clutches tighter to her arm.

Lucius Malfoy was a handsome young man, the epitome of his father in his prime. With shoulder length white hair and piercing blue eyes always set above an unwavering glare; he practically screamed power. Such reflected when it came to keeping his meek sister in line.

"I'll take her to her room father; we have much to discuss of course, we wouldn't want her getting in the way," Lucius Malfoy speaks coldly from her side, pushing the girl behind him slightly.

"Yes boy, do go on now," Their father waves them off as he returns to a novel in his lap.

Lucretia finds herself being dragged through the Manor yet again; her brother scooping her into his arms as soon as their father is no longer in sight and rushing up the grand staircase.

"Why must you always do this Cretia; you know better than to anger him," The boy huffs as he slams her bedroom door open with his shoulder, plopping her down upon her poster bed.

"How am I to blame?" She grits her teeth in anger, feeling exceptionally childish at the way he dares to treat her "He's always angry and never at you, always at me!"