Author's note: I am not British nor American so my English kind a eh sucks ;-)Since I do not know many English words the story will be written with rather simple words so get used to it , oh and I would truly appreciate if you review. Actually I even encourage criticism so I can learn from my mistakes. I don't have a beta (to be honest I have no idea what a beta really does.) rated T or M perhaps? Ow and I don't own anything

Summer. While for most kids the word meant fun and freedom, enjoying the warm weather or quality time with their parents on vacation it did for Draco. His parents had refused to come and pick him up at the station. Not surprisingly since they didn't at his first year either. Still Draco had hoped that maybe just maybe his mother would come and pick him up. He didn't dare to hope his father would. His father was way too busy to come and pick up a pathetic excuse for a son like he liked to call it. However his mother had send a carriage. His parents couldn't have it that their only heir took the Knight Bus, or worse a muggle cap! Narcissa would not be home. She was probably at some party which would last till the morning, then come home to sleep all day and when she woke up it would be evening and the same thing would just start over again.

Draco sighted then looked at his wrist watch. He would make sure that once he was through the Gates he hid it somewhere in his trunk that stood next to him. His father despised muggle things and since a wrist watch was definitely a muggle thing it was out of the question that Draco possibly had one. It was 3.50 pm. NOT good! He was supposed to be home and in his father's study at 4 pm!. He was never going to make it!. And tardiness was not accepted in the malfoy household. It was punished severely. No no no! he panicked. He mustn't be late! NEVER! Was there no way he could make this stupid thing go faster? He pushed his hands against the wood before him as if that would make the carriage go faster. Sadly, it did not. His breathing became more ragged as panic gripped his throat. He pushed harder but of course that didn't do a thing.

'Faster' he whispered 'faster! FASTER!' The more he said it the louder it got. But the stupid thing stayed moving to slow. He considered jumping out of the carriage and see if he could run faster than the blasted thing. He was close to hysterical. Being late was a very bad thing to start the summer with. He would already be punished for losing the house cup and later probably for being outranked by that mudblood Granger. He knew sure she got better points than him. Now, being late added to that list he didn't know if he could make it. 3. 55 pm. Five minutes. He looked outside. If this blasted thing would just go a little bit faster he could make it. He searched for his wand. Maybe a spell would do the trick? He was not scared the Ministry could trace it. His father made sure that even if Draco used magic (mostly healing charms that was IF he was allowed to use a small one) the Ministry could never find out about it. He was just about to whisper an incantation when he saw the Gates from Malfoy manor. The walls around the estate where snow white and the fence was made of pure gold. When other people looked at It they thought it was some kind of fairy tale castle in which a knight in shining armor would appear and rescue some kind of beautiful princess. Well nothing of that sorts ever happened really.

The carriage stopped in front of the huge oak doors that looked like they weighted a hundred ton. They swung open as soon as he stepped out of the carriage. Leaving his trunk in the carriage, (the house-elves could take care of that) Draco practically ran to his father's study.

He stopped before the doors and took a moment to compose himself and to slow his breathing down. He knew that if the stood there a moment longer he wouldn't have the guts anymore to knock. With a light swung of his fist he knocked.

Just when he thought he hadn't knocked hard enough he heard his fathers silky voice
" Come in,"

Ah he doesn't sound that happy, but then he almost never saw his father being happy. Without hesitation he opened the door. Silently closing it once he was inside. He could feel the sweat on his hand palms. He could literally feel his father boring little holes with his eyes. Draco stopped when he stood in front of his father's desk.

"Late," was the only thing Lucius said. No: 'hello son, welcome home,' not that Draco expected that but he was allowed to dream right?

"You know I don't accept tardiness and certainly not from my own son," Maybe if Lucius had spoken those words in rage they wouldn't have been that terrifying, but when his father didn't yell it meant he was really angry and had decided to spare his energy for the punishment. Draco couldn't suppress a shiver, and it wasn't from the cold since a blazing fireplace warmed the whole room. Lucius rose from his chair and walked calmly over to his only son.

"I do not only see that my son has failed to beat Potter in a Quidtich match I also see…
this," His hand went to his desk picked up a booklet.

"Wat are these? Ah the class ranks, let's see. I expect my son, the MALFOY HEIR to stand at the top yet the name I do see at the top is not Draco Malfoy," he said almost as if he it was the first time he looked at the paper.

"What name does stand at the top, Draco?" His Fathers voice became more threatening.
He held the booklet in front of Draco's nose. "Hmm?" he said

Draco felt parilized. Saying the name would earn him a slap, that much was sure. Saying nothing… He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what the consequences would be. But his tongue felt awfully thick and his mouth was dry.

"What does it say?" His father yelled in rage. He backhanded the boy, hard. The fair-haired teenager fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

"If you are too stupid to even read a name I will," his father said regaining his calm.

"Hermione Granger. I am not familiar with this name Draco, care to enlighten me?" he asked quasi sincere.

"She's a mudblood, Father," Draco said. While rising to his feet. Fear had gripped his throat and he could barely say the words he was supposed to. But his fear for 'a suitable punishment' was great enough to force the words out his throat

"A mudblood," his father repeated as tough it was nothing but a simple affirmation of what he already suspected. Then the outburst came.

He backhanded his son for the second time that day. "A mudblood beat you in EVERY subject," Even in an outburst his fathers voice was like silk.

"Didn't I pay for your home teachers? Why did I waste all that money on tutors if you don't do anything with it? Are you this stupid?"

At this point Draco had fallen on the floor. He cringed under the blows. His father began kicking him. Desperate to make sure his father didn't damage any internal organs he curled up in a little ball, covering his head with his arms. Despite his efforts he couldn't stop his father from kicking him in his stomach a few times and his ribs. Just before his father kicked him into unconsciousness he heard a sickening crack as a sign that his father had broken one of his ribs and then nothing…

Honestly I have no idea where this is going, any suggestions? Anyway R and R and make me happy ;-)