Disclaimer: well, I'm not J.K Rowling. If I WERE here... I would NOT sit and write fanfics to my own books.. duuh
Never
He has never said a word. He has never laughed nor smiled. Never. His eyes are cold, hard and devoid of life. He is four years old and has experienced things no four year old should ever experience.
He has never seen the outside world. He doesn't know how things are supposed to be. He doesn't know anything beyond these stone walls. It never occurs to him that it isn't right.
When he was little, he'd be forgotten. He could be found in his crib exhausted and crying because he hadn't eaten in days. The house elves would find him when they were cleaning. It happened two or three times, after that, the house elves would keep an eye on him.
He was so small and light, it was a miracle he still lived, they thought.
He eats very little, particularly for a growing boy and there appears to be little life in him at all... If it wasn't for the house elves he wouldn't have lived long. His father doesn't care, yet it is from him this little boy wants attention. He desperately wants his father to care and not only when he does anything wrong…
He doesn't cry much, considering how young and delicate he is and never when his father is home. The only time you will ever hear him give into his tears is late at night, when his father is away. You have to open the door to the bug closet and creep in as far as you can on the days that he has done something wrong. According to his father.
His mother is reasonably good at comforting her child. She used to come up to his closet, and creep through the darkness until she found the corner where her son sat, with worry etched into her pretty features. But she said nothing. It was enough to simply sit beside her son rub his back gently as his tears mixed with the blood coming from his mouth. She just sat there, before taking him into her arms and hugging him tight, whilst rocking back and forth. They would sit there for hours, in silence, the only thing that could be heard, if anyone listened, were the hiccupping sobs from the little boy sleeping fretfully in his mother's arms.
He doesn't cry any more. He learned his lesson quickly and pays no attention to those he considers to be weak. He keeps his feelings locked tightly away within himself, so nobody, not even his mother, can see inside him. He is four years old. He has never said a word and he has never laughed.
He is Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy
Thanks for reading folks! Don't forget to Review! even if you didn't like it!
Thanks to LadyLilyMalfoy who helped me get it right! THANK YOU SOOOOOOO MUCH xxxx
oh.. and I'm not sure if I'm gonna leave it like this or to continue in chapters.. help me out here will you?
Thanx!
Nicconicco
xxx