(TW: Implied child abuse, abuse & intimidation)
The time had come where all their exams were over and everyone was collecting their items for their trips back home for the holidays. Alex and Calista nearly spent an hour yelling at each other, trying to separate their clothes that had slipped into each other's trunks throughout the year. Alex insisted on wearing whatever band tees Calista was willing to go without; Ana wanted them too considering all her shirts were far too formal for daily wear, but she knew they meant more to the younger Bole so she didn't put up any fight.
After her surprise from the twins in the dungeons, Ana collected the Dreamless Sleep Potion that she brewed herself and left it behind for the potions master on his desk with a little note that said:
"I have finished the potion. From what I can tell, it was brewed perfectly, but of course you'll be able to confirm or deny. Have a good holiday.
-B. Malfoy"
She didn't care for seeing the man again, a little part of her wanted to avoid going to the classroom again given the way Professor Quirrell intruded the last time she was there. Seeing him in class was fine, but when he imposed on her in the early morning hours Ana found that talking to him as little as possible was better. Also his preference for staring at her like a madman was a bit off putting to say the least.
Once everyone was packed and on the train, the five of them enjoyed the little stereo that Calista brought for their birthday celebration for Alex. Like the year before they enjoyed sweets and music, but Alex nearly screamed when Calista presented her with a whole box of thrifted muggle clothes from her aunt. The two of them hugged for the longest time as the other three were talking about Quidditch.
Her stomach hurt from laughing; Aeron was convinced that he could be a better beater than Lucian and the two of them engaged in multiple rounds of arm wrestles, nearly each time the older boy won with no issue. The mixture of music and laughter made her heart flutter; and as Ana ran her mitten covered hands over her new hat, she sighed at the warmth the Weasley family unknowingly brought her. If this feeling could last the whole of winter break, Ana would never have to search for a fire again, she would just have to think of her friends to keep warm.
~
Unfortunately that fuzzy feeling disappeared as soon as Ana and Draco stepped off the train; the energy felt different from last year. When she returned a year ago, she was met with an excited and cushy Draco who welcomed her back with open arms. Now, he was distant. His smirk was a permanent fixture on his elfish face, and it made her miss how things used to be. Her mother and father didn't say much to either her or Draco when they collected them from the station, the four of them moved around silently as if talking or interacting with anyone was beneath them.
The chill that typically ran through her when she was outside stayed with her even as she sat on her bed alone. Instead of hanging out with her like he usually did, Draco stayed cooped up in his room, sending owls all day for a week straight. She had asked him to hang out, suggested they chase his golden snitch or play hide and seek like they did a year ago. But whenever she brought up the idea, he'd promise they'd get to it by the end of the day. Ana would wait for hours, just praying for her bedroom door to open, sometimes she'd even sit outside his door on the cold marble floor. No matter how long she waited, he never joined her, and she would have to walk back to her room alone.
There wasn't much for Ana to do without Draco, so she stayed in her own room and made small conversation with Dobby whenever he popped in, but even that was short lived. She lamented at the fact that all she could do was sit back, play with her new woven hat and think about how being at Hogwarts would've been a better option for her.
Ana would've sent out letters, but she feared the idea of her father finding a letter arriving at the house that was signed by a Weasley or a Longbottom. Her only viable options were the Boles or Aeron; Ana knew her father would throw a fit if he saw she got anything from a Muggleborn, so Calista was out of the picture as well.
The greenhouse was too lifeless to visit, every plant inside was covered with a layer of frost that killed whatever life it once held. Nothing about the Manor had life anymore, Ana sighed.
Since she had no outlet, Ana decided to layer in the best clothes she had, the red wool mittens from the twins, and go out on her broom, despite her hate of the cold. With her Nimbus 2000 back at school, she opted for the less impressive Comet that she had always ridden. Her fingers would cramp and burn from the bite of the wind and the snow, but she didn't care. She had to do something to occupy her racing mind, so she stayed out in the freezing cold until she couldn't feel her lungs anymore, just zooming around the property. The only company she had was the swooshing flight of an owl that would pop by Draco's room with a letter tied to its leg. Other than that she was alone.
Family dinners were the worst; Ana could tolerate being alone in her room or in the air even if she hated it, but when she was forced to sit with the rest of the family she feared oversharing anything. Staying silent was her best option. Evenings would consist of her sitting tall, while avoiding the gaze of anyone and the rest of the Malfoys followed suit. Their table manners were impeccable, except for the lack of lively conversation and easy laughter. Dinners were cold and quiet, a stark reminder of how much better things were back at school.
It was Christmas Eve. Ana, Draco, and their mother were preparing dinner, deciding to give Dobby a break and spending some well needed time together. They had to make sure it was all done before their father came home though; he always got angry when the three decided to cook instead of forcing Dobby to do it. It was a simple meal: vegetables, some bread, and a roast, which Ana skipped out on. Meat had always upset her stomach for some reason.
Draco and Ana were getting a long a bit better; they weren't hanging out, but Ana enjoyed making brownies with him. His eyes still glowed when he got to the decorating part of the baking. It was a tiny glimpse of her little brother, all happy and fascinated by the mundane things. The smile that spread across his face made her giggle joyfully to herself.
"How's your wrist, dear?"
"It's doing a b-" Ana hesitated for a moment at her mother's question, "How did you know I broke my wrist?"
Their mother took a moment away from making a sauce to smirk knowingly between her two children, wiping her hands on her apron, "Draco sent an owl after the game. He was very worried."
Ana blew Draco a kiss jokingly, which he dismissed by rolling his eyes dramatically. Of course he had to be a brat about the whole thing, but knowing that her baby brother cared about her being hurt brought her comfort. That gave her hope; even if he didn't show it as easily as before, Draco would look after her.
He of course was making a mess with a bowl full of frosting, which Ana quickly cleaned up before anyone had something to say. Draco held on to the decadent fudge and offered a piece to Dobby who was mopping nearby as their mother started doing the dishes. The house elf held out his hand to take the little treat, but Ana flinched hard as a cane met the small creatures head, making a loud crack resonate in the air. Dobby cried out in pain, apologizing profusely before apparating away.
Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her father, shocked by the harsh blow he delievered before he even uttered a word. Her father readjusted the large walking stick in his hand, his wicked glare now solely focused on Draco. Her father's face grimaced harshly at the young boy who began walking backwards, trying to gain some distance between him and the furious man.
"What did I say about giving Dobby treats?" His voice barked angrily.
"That I wasn't allowed," Draco whined as their father continued to approach the small boy. His face was scrunched in fear, tears threatening to spill over his round cheeks that were growing red.
Ana's blood began to boil, seeing him yell and seethe at the boy who was only trying to do something nice. Draco's lip was trembling as he was now pressed against the counter in the corner of the room, there was nowhere left to run.
"Lucius, don't you d-"
"You stay out of this," her father turned to their mother, pointing his walking stick in her direction as a warning. The women's head dropped as she wrung the dishtowel in her shaking hands. Her face was totally devoid of color as she looked up into the cold and unforgiving eyes of her husband.
Ana couldn't stand the man. He was cruel, aggressive, and ruthless: unapologetic for anything he did no matter how bad it was. It made her physically sick to see him inflicting so much fear on her little brother. Her heart was pounding harder and harder the longer he stayed and her hands shook in fury.
Draco tried to escape their father's wrath, attempting to make a quick dart around the man, but he fell to the ground and protected his head as their father raised his walking stick up. The man went to strike his son hard, but on the down swing, the weapon was ripped from his white knuckles.
Ana didn't know how it happened, she was far too focused on her labored and angry breathing to fully understand what was going on. Her once empty hand was now gripping the heavy walking stick, feeling the weight of it and wincing at the thought of Draco being hit with such a thing. She was trembling in anger, but kept her face steady as she stared her father down. A shiver ran down her spine as three pairs of eyes bore into her.
"Do not hit Draco," she hissed, doing everything she could to keep her voice even and composed.
Draco stared back at her with misty eyes, his nose was running, but she didn't think he cared about his appearance at the moment. Her mother and father were shocked, but her father looked at her with an unfamiliar expression. If Ana was correct, she would call the look on her father's face impressed. He tentatively walked towards her, but she didn't cower like her brother; all Ana knew to do in moments like this was to freeze and wait. Wait for whatever was coming her way.
His strides were long and slow, creeping towards her with a crooked grin on his weathered face.
"And how did you do that little bit of magic, Bibiana?" he sneered, his lip twitching as he glared at her with a raised brow. "No wand, no spell. That's highly...curious."
Ana's shoulders dropped in surprise; the admiration in his voice felt like a lie from her father's lips and yet it was real. Unfortunately for the man, he and Draco were terrible at lying; that made his comment all the more obscure. His praise was genuine. Her grip on the walking stick never lessened, even though her father was now looming over the short girl. His face grew closer to hers, almost reminding her of the way Professor Quirrell had acted towards her not too long ago. He was analyzing her, piercing into her eyes like he was trying to find something.
With a despondent huff, he pulled away from his daughter and stood up, holding his hand out for the walking stick. She hesitated handing it back to him, but from her mother's quiet pleading look, Ana relinquished the large staff to the man. In her hand it looked like an expensive accessory she thought; in his hands it looked like a weapon.
"It's dinner time," he croaked before adjusting his clothes and sat down at the head of the table, "Dobby!"
The elf arrived with a pop and went about his duties; although, it hurt Ana to see his head was developing a bump from where he was hit. All throughout dinner, Ana remained silent, the only action she could focus on was the repetitive motion of dipping her fork down to stab into her vegetables and bringing the now cold food into her mouth. Everyone in the room ate in utter silence, doing their best to focus on their meals instead of the little fiasco that went down.
Ana's stomach was still twisted in knots. She had no idea how the cane flew into her hand. There was no spell, no incantation, no hex on the object. At yet, within a split second, it landed in her hand instead of her fathers. All she could do after finishing her meal and forgoing the dessert was run to her room to escape any possible interrogation.
The only bit of comfort she could grab onto were her little gifts from the Weasleys. Red wool felt like silk beneath her fingers, making her wish she grew up with the fluffy fabric instead of the cold, stiff ones she knew. Ana began to wonder if everything about the Weaselys were warm, or if everything about the Malfoys was just cold.
Her heart jumped at the gentle knocking that came from her door. In a rush, Ana shoved her present from the twins underneath her pillow, hoping the touch of red was hidden well enough. As Ana turned back around, she was met with the dejected image of her mother, her hair was frizzed at the roots, as if she was running her hands through it. This version of her mother appeared lost, her eyes were glued to the floor instead of her daughter.
She reached Ana's bed and propped her hands along the bar that held up her willowy canopy, the thin fabric hung dead, still, as she waited for her mother to say anything.
"The Ministry is going to know you did magic," she whispered.
Her mother's statement made Ana dumbfounded, the Ministry was never on her mind when she stole the staff, magic wasn't even on her mind. It was never her intention to do magic while underage; it just happened. Of course there would be consequences for her actions, but she felt like it was excusable.
"But I can handle that," her mother continued, still staring at the hard floor beneath her heels.
The silence that filled her room was unlike the silence they shared while they were working in the greenhouses. This silence was one of empty words, not effortless company.
"Is that all?" Ana's bright blue eyes pleaded for her mother to just look at her. But it never happened.
Her mother simply nodded curtly and turned with a squeak, ready to leave the room. Ana was surprised that was all she was getting from the woman, and it pained her to see her so closed off.
"Am I in trouble?" Ana exhaled deeply, hoping she wasn't on her mother's bad side.
Finally, woeful grey eyes met her own, "No, I told you. I'll handle the Ministry."
"I meant with you. With father."
Her mother sighed, staring down at her stoic daughter. Ana's face was untouched by emotion, her long hair twisted between the young girl's chipped fingernails, braiding the thin strands horribly.
"You're not in trouble," her mother's sentence hovered in the air, awaiting a second half, "with me."
Ana nodded at the implication, half expecting that answer and half surprised her mother would be truthful about her father's disappointment. Although, she never cared for the man's opinion on anything, she did care if a punishment was going to be served.
Her mother offered her a regretful half-smile; it never reached her eyes. Once again, her mother turned from her, but this time Ana made no effort to stop her. Instead, the sound of her mother's heels echoing down the halls brought her solace. She was alone again, but now she wanted to be. The idea of seeing her terrified brother would only anger her, reminding her of the damage her father was ready to inflict. And the mere thought of even seeing her father again made the small amount of food in her stomach feel like a brick.
The night was over. Christmas Eve was horrible, and Ana could only assume the following day would be filled with more awkward silences and condescending glares. She rolled off her bed and stretched, enjoying the way the moon let a tiny bit of light shine into her room. It felt so far away and yet if she tried hard enough, she imagined she could snatch it out of the sky like a golden snitch.
Ana frowned, turning away from the cold window pane and dropped to her bed with a thud. There was no point in wallowing, so Ana took a swig of her Dreamless Sleep Potion and awaited a night of nothingness.
However, her dreamless sleep was interrupted. In the early hours of Christmas Day, Ana assumed Draco had woken her up to begin celebrating early, even if it was out of his current character. She would've accepted the invitation with open arms. Instead, she awoke to her father turning on her blinding lights, the intensity was far more aggressive than the light the moon provided only a few hours ago.
"Get up. We're leaving."
Ana's eyes had hardly adjusted to the light, her head dipped below her sheets to shield herself from the growing pain it brought to her temples. Her father was fully dressed as if he was going to the Ministry like he did every day for work.
"Leaving for what? It's Christmas," Ana questioned as she hopped out of her bed, shuddering at the cool morning air that seeped through her closed windows.
"You're going back to school," he grumbled as he reached for her trunk, beginning to pull on the leather handle, dragging her belongings away from her and down the empty hallway.