Athor's note: I have no idea where this is going to. Also I don't know if this is going to be a one-shot or a multi-chap! My latest story 'wingardium leviosa' is now officially a one-shot considering I don't think I can write a whole story about a spell… Anyway I don't own anything everything's J.K. Rowlings! Hope you guys will review because I'd like to know what you think!
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"Now what do you think? Black or green?" Narcissa Malfoy, wife of the well-known Lucius Malfoy waved with her hands at the two dresses a house elf desperately tried to keep from touching the ground. Even standing on a chair the creature was obviously struggling. The blond boy in front of her sighted.
"Mother, you'll look beautiful in both of them." He said inching towards the door, trying to leave in a subtle way. His mother had asked him to choose between twenty dresses already.
"You already said that darling, tell me witch one you prefer."
"Fine, the green one," Draco said. He was almost there, just a little further and he could escape.
"Really? I like the black one more, but I guess it is a party so green would be nicer." She mused.
"Where are you going? She asked when she saw her son was only mere inches away from the door. "You still need to tell me witch pair of shoes you like with them!"
"Mother I really need to go, father ordered me to get my essays done by lunch and I still need to do the one about transfiguration."
"Your father gave you WORK? At the day of a party?" She snorted. Then who's going to choose my shoes?"
"I'm sure… eh Tabby will help," he said. He glared at the house elf who was trembling from the effort of keeping the dresses high above her head. With that he slipped through the door and scurried to his room.
The only reason Narcissa ever asked her son in her room was to know in witch dress she was more beautiful. She just needed someone to tell her how beautiful she was once in a while. And with Lucius gone for the day that person was Draco.
The twelve-year-old quickly ran through the hallway, ignoring the protests from his ancestors. One of them even followed him all the way to his room telling him just how expensive the rug was he ran over and how terrible it was he just RAN over it without the proper repect.
When he finally reached his room he now knew that every rug in the house was worth more than his life and how sorry he would be if his great-great grandfather had any limbs to beat him with.
As soon as he stepped in his room he locked his door and walked briskly to one of the bookcases at his left. His fingers ran over the backs until he found what he was looking for. The transfiguration books his father had ordered him to read and make an essay of.
A twenty-five paged essay, to be finished in he looked at his watch two hours. This is going to be fun! Why can't mother leave me alone when I have to study for father?
Soon the only noise in the blond boys room was that of a quill scrapping.
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The three Malfoys stood in the hallway, proud and tall looking like they were kings. Narcissa was wearing the green dress Draco said he liked better and a neckless made of pure gold with an emerald stone in the middle. Her earrings were green as well. Lucius was wearing the usual, only difference was that his hair was tied back with a black ribbon, his cane loosely on his hand.
Their son stood in the middle. Green gala robes and trying to stand tall as well. His back hurt when the welts stretched but there was an unmistakable smile on his face. Those welts were from yesterday, today his father hadn't punished him at all! Even after giving his assignments his father seemed pleased. Or at least not angry.
"Mcnair," Lucius said greeting a guest for the thousandth time.
"Lucius," The man in front of Draco's father said. He smirked and then looked down at Draco. "This is your son? Yes I see, he looks just like you, let's hope he IS just like you,"
With that he turned on his heels and together with his wife, who had been talking to Narcissa, he walked to the ballroom.
His father had placed a hand on his sons shoulder during the conversation with McNair but now his grip tightened painfully.
Draco couldn't help but glance at his fathers face. The face of the senior Malfoy didn't betray anything but the painful grip was enough.
Soon all the guest were there and the feast could begin. All the tables were beautifully decorated and so was the entire room. Green and silver was the dominant color and the golden statues were the only exception.
At the far left under a huge window stood a piano. Draco's blood ran cold when he thought about when he had to play it. His father had insisted and when Lucius wanted something you'd better make sure he got it.
Everywhere people stood in groups talking to each other. Narcissa left the two Malfoys quickly when she spotted Mss. Crabe and Goyle standing nearby talking to Mss. Zabini. Probably to exchange rumors and scandals.
"Go to the piano Draco," His father hissed in his ear.
After just one step he felt the heavy weight of the snakehead of his father's cane on his shoulder.
"Don't blow this Draco, or I will make you regret it!" Lucius' voice was dangerously low and to the people who were watching it just looked like he was talking to his son about something normal. The only thing Draco could do was nod.
You're just overreacting, you've studied and practiced this piece over a hundred times, nothing's going wrong!
Still Draco could feel the knot in his stomach. He felt the eyes of the guests follow him. They knew what would come, it was tradition after all that at the age of twelve the eldest Malfoy son played something – always beautiful and impressive of course, on the piano at the summer banquet.
When he finally reached the piano his heart was racing, beating so hard and fast he was certain everybody heard it and his heart would pop.
Placing his fingers on the piano he tried to clear his head. Although he couldn't say he was especially fond of the piano –or gifted for that matter, he still knew he could do this. Or more, hoped he could. The last time he had done it without a single mistake and the time before as well. So now shouldn't be a problem, should it? It was only his father and almost every pureblood family in the world that was watching.
After taking a deep breath he started. His fingers knew were to move and when and before he knew it the hardest part was done. The beginning! He felt himself swell with pride when he continued. But he should have known it was too good to be true.
The two wrong bars echoed through the room and just when Draco thought nobody had noticed and he could just continue, more followed. The whole song was ruined and he felt how all the people in the room were staring at him. Now there was no doubt.
They had all heard he had hit the wrong keys. That he had ruined the song and humiliated himself in front of everybody. He could feel his fathers gaze boring little holes.
Then the laughing came. About half the room were death eaters who didn't want anything more then to humiliate the Malfoy family. And Draco had just given them a perfect reason.
He couldn't help himself. Suddenly his eyes felt wet and his cheeks burned. Without saying a word he stood up and ran from the room. Trying to be as dignified as he could.
More people were laughing now and then he reached the door. When the door was closed as silent as he could, he ran to his room.
Father would be so angry! From all the things Draco had ever done wrong this was the worst. The pride he had felt when he hadn't been punished all day and that of when he did the first part perfectly had vanished, leaving him in a terrified state.
His father would come for him and he would give him the worst trashing he had ever received he just knew it. The punishments his father had given him previously were nothing compared to what he would get now.
Draco rolled up in a ball on his bed. Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes and his whole body was shaking from fear. He couldn't hear anything that was said downstairs and he was sure he didn't want to.
Just once he wanted Lucius to be proud. To actually show Draco he cared about his son. Just a pat on the back even just a small glimpse of pride in his fathers eyes instead of the coldness and disappointment they always seemed to have.
He was a worthless son, a constant disappointment, why couldn't he be like his father wanted him to be?
Hours passed by and Draco was still lying motionless on the bed. When he heard the last guest leave he went rigid.
Everybody was gone. Now his father would come upstairs and give him the punishment he deserved. But knowing how much he deserved it didn't make him less frightened of the pain…
Footsteps
Clicking of that cane
On the stairs
Towards his room
He pressed his eyes shut and prayed to whatever god was up there, that his father wouldn't kill him. He just wanted to live, to try again and make his father proud. He didn't deserve that, but that didn't stop him from wanting it.
Why can't I be a better son? Why can't I make him proud?
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Waaw this turned out so different from my other fics. I mean I think, I hope you like it. I don't really know how I feel about it. It's different, but it's up to you to decide if it's good different or bad. I really hope you tell me because I really want to know what you like best. This or wingardium leviosa style-ish.
xxTheAlgea
Oh yeah little note to written-on-porcelain: this means six chapters