Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. To the best of my knowledge, none of the following ever happened. Other than any original characters, none of the characters herein are my property. This work is a figment of my imagination, and no profit is being reaped as the fruits of my labor. It is not my intention for any copyright infringement to occur.
Warnings: This fic does contain some more emotionally trying themes. Child abuse and self-mutilation does come-up, and may or may not serve as a trigger for some individuals, so please keep this in mind. Some minor coarse language may be used. Read at your own risk.
Author's note: Please read and review. This is the prologue, and therefore rather short. Please trust that most further chapters shall be much longer. If you have any questions, you can go ahead and ask in the comments, and I shall try my best to answer your questions unless they give away far too much of the story for my liking, or are of a very personal nature. I relish constructive criticism, but I beg of you not to flame me, for I fear I may be scorched in the blaze.
An Untried Path
Prologue: Scathed
From the moment of his birth, nothing in Draco Malfoy's life was ever destined to go right. His parents were willing servants of the most wretched wizard to walk the Earth in generations, and he was born just before the Dark Lord met his demise. His parents pleaded innocence, claiming their servitude to have been merely the result of being enchanted. Though no punishment befell them due to a lack of evidence of their willingness, the large reserves of gold the family held, and the high esteem the family had before been held in, his parents did truly fall from grace except for from those who themselves had been followers or supporters of the Dark Lord. In the years hence, Draco Malfoy endured a harsh life at home, with a father with a temper so virulent that all feared him and especially his young son who was the split image of him, and a mother who bore herself with only the semblance of grace, always uncaring for her only son's safety and well-being.
He survived; he endured. Yet that was all that could be said. Draco Malfoy was not an unscathed boy.
At the age of eleven, Draco finally was allowed to leave the hellhole he called home for at the least the better part of the year. He could finally escape the all-too-knowing gaze of his father. Well, that was what Draco had hoped would occur. In his innocence, he did not stop to think of his father's influence in the magical community at large, and that his father's being a school governor of Hogwarts may indeed mean that he would never truly be out of harms way. Either way, he was on his way to Hogwarts, and he was happy. Nothing in his mind spelled apprehension. He only hoped he'd be in Slytherin or face the wrath of his father a thousand times over - hyperbole not included.
This is the story of his life.