And then I saw them, a set of head lights. He couldn’t have realised I was missing so quickly could he? I started screaming and crying and shaking. I was so close to get away and now it would end. I heard a tap on the window so I turned away from it still screaming and crying and all of a sudden the passenger door opened and a big man got in and looked at me and all of a sudden I was pulled onto his lap and he was holding me whispering calming words into my ear. When I had calmed down we sat, he was rubbing his hand up and down my spine and I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew I was in the passenger seat of his truck and we were driving down a bumpy drive way. He picked me up out of the truck and carried me through to what I presumed to be his bedroom from the clothes draped over the back of his chair and boots thrown on the floor. As he laid me on his bed I looked into his eyes, then I drifted off to sleep. I woke up sometime in the middle of the night and drifted. Believe me.’ Before he could understand what happened, his mother hit him so hard Draco fell face forward on the marble stairs. Momentarily disoriented, Draco realized the wetness on his face was blood. Blood from his mouth, his nose. Blood spilled because his mother had hit him. Hit him for Damian, who was not even her son. Tears burned in his eyes, and then spilled down his cheeks. ‘One week.’ she said in a shaky voice, ‘You shall not have supper for one whole week.’ Lord Rothwell turned to his wife, ‘Elizabeth! Are you feeding such poison into the boy’s mind? Do you really not think of my first-born, my Damian as your own son?’ Lady Rothwell replied with tears in her eyes, ‘Of course not, darling. You know I love Damian more than my own life. He is my son. Have I not been a good mother to him?’ To Draco, she said, ‘Look at what you have done, you brat! You made my husband question my love for my eldest son. Are you happy now?’ Draco’s father said in a disgusted tone, ‘Let us go.
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