Pariah: The Other Malfoy

Chapter 30: Reality

I didn't wake up for another forty-eight hours, my parents beginning to wonder whether I would wake up. But I did, feeling significantly more refreshed given my injuries were already turning into scars, though starving by that point.

I grabbed my robe, wrapping it tightly around myself and over my pyjamas, before shuffling out of my room and down the stairs. It was lunchtime, so my family was sat around the dining table. My brother was reading the newspaper, my father had work documents in front of him, and my mother was reading a book.

"Lucius, if she doesn't wake up soon, I'm going to call a Healer," my mother said, her back to me.

"I agree," my father sighed, "Though Lupin said for the first transformation, she would likely sleep for a few days. As much as I dislike the man, I am grateful for him easing my mind somewhat."

He glanced up, noticing me at the doorway, his face falling in shock.

"Lyra, you shouldn't be walking around!" He stood immediately, my brother and mother jumping at his loud voice.

"I'm fine, just hungry," I shrugged, walking in and collapsing on a chair.

"Draco, go tell Polky to make some food for Lyra," my father said, eyeing me with concern.

Polky was Dobby's replacement. I found that my family were kinder to her than they were Dobby, perhaps learning their lesson that a House Elf's loyalty was not absolute. It also meant they were much more careful around her than they were Dobby, she was never allowed in the room if we were talking about my condition, she didn't even know about it. Hence why Draco was getting sent to speak to her, rather than summoning her.

"Let me check these bandages, I changed them this morning and they were looking good," my mother said gently, unwrapping the white coverings.

My face fell when I saw what lay beneath. Deep ugly tears, bite marks, the works. They were healed for the most part, the skin tight where it knitted together, but the scarring was clear. These marks would never leave.

"It's looking much better," my father commented, seeing my reaction, "Almost healed."

"But never gone," I sighed, "How bad is my face?"

"It won't be this bad again," my father avoided the question, "For the first transformation, Wolfsbane is useless, but Severus has agreed to brew it for the rest of your transformations. You'll still be exhausted and ill around the full moon, but the attacks should cease."

"How bad is my face?" I repeated, my jaw clenched tightly.

My mother sighed before producing a mirror, allowing me to see the extent of my injuries. I gasped slightly, my stomach dropping. Great, ugly scratches ran down my face, going from one end to the other. I looked even older than I did before and I had shadows under my eyes. To be honest, I looked more like a wolf than a human.

"They still need to heal more," my father comforted me, "Don't worry."

"But they won't heal, will they?" I spat, anger rising, "I'll always look like a freak, a monster. This is my reality now!"

Draco placed a bowl of soup gently in front of me, eyeing my father as I slumped in my seat.

"I hate this..." I breathed, my anger dissipating.

"I know," my mother sighed, "But we'll be here to get you through it. Always."

The next full moon was no better for my mood, but I came out unscathed. I was exhausted, moody and my joints hurt, but I had no additional scarring thanks to Professor Snape. I wore a fingerless glove on my right hand in order to hide my bite, otherwise it was clear as day for everyone to see.