A/N: Hello everyone! I tentatively present to you a new multi-chaptered story. I feel kind of guilty for starting a new project, while my other multi-chaptered stories aren't getting any attention. Oh well. So, this is a story which was inspired by several thing. Firstly, the song "A Doll's Voice" by Kamui Gakupo, and a bit by the manga "Lovers Doll" by Mishima Kazuhiko. Which doesn't necessarily mean it follows the actual plots. I hope you like this story, because I'm pretty enthusiastic about it!
Summary: Non-Magical AU. In a cupboard under the stairs, there lives a boy who didn't receive anything. But on one day, he was blessed with a toy. But what happens when said toy is destroyed by the very person he managed to get the toy away from? Would you keep it or throw it away? Doll!Draco. DM/HP. By DW.
Toy
A toy is a very important thing for a child to have. It enables them to create a world of their own, to let them escape the cruel fate of reality. Having a toy also gives them responsibility, because they have to look after it. Once lost, it's hard to get it back. Every child has a toy which is cherished beyond belief. A toy they can't sleep without, or a toy they would miss instantly when it isn't around. Sometimes, when a toy goes missing, it can have a negative influence on a child, causing depression and unmanageable behaviour. It can also be a medium of friendship. Children quickly bond over the things they like, or the things they have in common. A toy to talk about would be a nice way to break the ice between children. While they are easily satisfied with toys, there is always that one thing they seemingly can't live without. And such was the case with a boy and his puppet.
This specific boy acquired this puppet through his cousin, who, after playing with it for one day, threw it out. Thanks to this boy, the puppet was saved from an unfortunate fate. While treated like trash by one, he was cherished by another. Even though the space he lived in wasn't large, it was compensated by the warmth he received from the boy. He didn't leave the room, and was always sat on a shelf, a bit hidden between toy soldiers. The porcelain face was only dimly illuminated by a light bulb, which flickered every now and then, announcing its nearing end. Not a scratch marked the precious doll, for it was treated with great care and gentleness. The doll was the hidden treasure of the boy, for the boy had never laid hands on something he could call his own. His cousin had taken everything from him, or destroyed the things he didn't care for anymore. It was indeed something akin to a miracle that the doll got out of the previous room unscathed.
The door opened a crack, and the morning light poured into the dimly lit room, making it look even shabbier in the harsh daylight. The current owner of the puppet quickly pulled the door shut behind him, and sat down on his tiny bed. Pulling his knees to his chest, the tiny boy threw his arms around them, making him look even tinier. Pitiful mumblings filled the room, followed by stifled sobs. And so the boy cried for several minutes, before looking up and wiping his nose and eyes. His eyes settled on the doll in the corner of a shelf, hidden behind toy soldiers for safety. A wry smile tugged at his lips, making him look even more of a mess.
"It must be nice, being a doll. You can just sit there and be pretty, and be admired by all. You'd be loved by the owner and treasured beyond all things, until that person grows bored of you." The boy reached forward and brushed the toy soldiers aside, and carefully lifted the fragile-looking doll. He sniffled a bit more, though a tender smile adorned his face. "I won't grow bored with you, though. You're my treasure. Though it doesn't look nice, being hidden behind the soldiers. But I have to, or else my cousin will take you away. And he can't do that, because you're mine now. He didn't want you. When I get out of here, I'll take you with me and I'll make sure you'll be all pretty, being able to be seen by everybody. Something such as you shouldn't be hidden away at all." The boy touched the cold porcelain, before carefully putting the puppet back in its place. Gathering all his toy soldiers together, he carefully placed them back in place, so the doll was hidden at first sight.
Wiping at his face for the last time, the boy opened the door of his cupboard. His relatives would be angry with him if he kept them waiting. Besides, an eight-year-old boy shouldn't cry anymore.
Such was the life of Harry Potter.
A/N: I hope you've liked this chapter!
