Art/Ficlet: One Christmas
Title: One Christmas...
Rating: G
Word Count: Approx 250
Summary: It's not a good idea to talk politics or Muggles at the Black holiday table.
He could hear their muffled voices coming from downstairs and he knew they were talking about him. Any other time, he would have slipped from his room and listened at the top of the stairs but he didn't dare leave his bed. Not after the way Father had looked at him.
The caning had hurt, he had sobbed so hard during it that he could scarcely breathe. He'd never been given the cane before, usually Mother or Kreacher would spank him when he misbehaved. However, tonight he had done something so horrible that his normally reserved and distant father had taken in him in hand.
But even worse than that was listening to the muted conversation he knew must be going on around the holiday table. They were deciding what was to be done with him, no doubt. Maybe they would send him to the faraway school where Pure Blood families sent those children who'd been born squibs or who possessed other impairments that their families simply couldn't abide.
Or maybe.
Maybe the Aurors would come for him and they would take him to Azkaban.
They sent the worst witches and wizards there to be tortured by Monsters. Cousin Bella had said so and she knew about all kinds of horrid things. The way Father had looked at him... His breath caught in his throat. What he had done must have been awful. Even Aunt Druella who usually doted on him had shaken her head in disappointment. ("The boy wants to be a Muggle racing car driver? Where did he get such a disgusting idea!") Surely they would call the authorities.
He sank down in his bed and tried even harder to hear what they were saying.
Rating: G
Word Count: Approx 250
Summary: It's not a good idea to talk politics or Muggles at the Black holiday table.
He could hear their muffled voices coming from downstairs and he knew they were talking about him. Any other time, he would have slipped from his room and listened at the top of the stairs but he didn't dare leave his bed. Not after the way Father had looked at him.
The caning had hurt, he had sobbed so hard during it that he could scarcely breathe. He'd never been given the cane before, usually Mother or Kreacher would spank him when he misbehaved. However, tonight he had done something so horrible that his normally reserved and distant father had taken in him in hand.
But even worse than that was listening to the muted conversation he knew must be going on around the holiday table. They were deciding what was to be done with him, no doubt. Maybe they would send him to the faraway school where Pure Blood families sent those children who'd been born squibs or who possessed other impairments that their families simply couldn't abide.
Or maybe.
Maybe the Aurors would come for him and they would take him to Azkaban.
They sent the worst witches and wizards there to be tortured by Monsters. Cousin Bella had said so and she knew about all kinds of horrid things. The way Father had looked at him... His breath caught in his throat. What he had done must have been awful. Even Aunt Druella who usually doted on him had shaken her head in disappointment. ("The boy wants to be a Muggle racing car driver? Where did he get such a disgusting idea!") Surely they would call the authorities.
He sank down in his bed and tried even harder to hear what they were saying.