A/N: Just a strange one-shot that came to me -shrugs- By the way, I happen to like fics which don't depict him as a self-confident, spoilt brat, although that's OOC, of course ;)

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters or anything else related to Harry Potter; it all belongs to J.K. Rowling and her publishers. No money is being made.

"You cried." The words were uttered quietly, but the small boy they were directed at winced as though someone had yelled at him. He quickly got out of his bed and stood motionless, staring at the tall, dark figure that was standing in the doorway.

"You know what I told you about crying, don't you?" The man made a step towards the boy. His long hair was shimmering in the dim light that was shining into the large dark room from the corridor.

"Yes, father. I must not cry. Never. It's weakness."

"Exactly." Another step. "You disobeyed me."

"Yes, father. I'm sor –"

"No." he was cut off sharply. "Don't you remember what I told you about apologising?"

"Yes, father." The boy sunk his head. His eyes were burning.

"Why did you apologise, then?"

"I… I don't know." He only managed a whisper. "I felt sorry. I didn't want to disappoint you."

"I know that. But you did, and now you have to take the responsibility."

"Yes, father."

"Go on, then."

"Yes, father." The boy raised his head and looked at the tall man before him. "I understand that I have made a mistake," he stated in a formal voice which was trembling ever so slightly. "I now ask you to punish me appropriately so I'll remember not to make this mistake again."

"I will."

The boy stiffened as the man took out his wand, but he did not dare to look away.

"You know why I must punish you, don't you?" The voice was a hint softer than before.

"Yes, father. I was weak. You punish me to help me being strong."

"Exactly. I don't take pleasure in doing this. Unfortunately, you don't leave me another option. You are six years old now, and I cannot tolerate weakness anymore." The man sounded sad.

"I'll do my best not to force you to do it again, father."

"I hope so." The wand was raised.

"T-thank you, father."

"Crucio."

The young man awoke with a start, his own screams still echoing in his ears, his heart fluttering wildly in his throat. He drew his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Taking deep, shuddering breaths, he tried to calm down.

"You had a nightmare."

Opening his eyes, he saw the tall shape standing in the doorway. Slowly, the slender form slipped from beneath the blanket and stood.

"Yes, father." His voice was empty.

"I hoped I could take down the monitoring charm this summer. I hoped for your own sake you would finally leave this childish weakness behind. I see that once again my hope was futile."

"I didn't mean to disappoint you, father."

"You never do." Lucius Malfoy stepped fully into the room.

"No, father."

Lucius shook his head. "Will you ever stop being a disgrace to my name?"

Draco shivered. He felt cold, and it did not come from the warm air of the June night.

"What should I tell our Lord when he asks me if you are ready to join us next summer, after your last year at school? The truth? That my son is weak? That I failed to raise him properly?" Lucius sighed.

"No father, you didn't fail." A curtain of soft, white-blond hair shrouded the sixteen-year-old's face as he sunk his head. "It's me."

"I'm very concerned for you, Draco." The wand was drawn. "I'm waiting."

Draco did not manage to raise his eyes from the floor. "I understand that I have made a mistake. I now ask you to punish me appropriately so I'll remember not to make this mistake again."

"I will."

Everything was so cold. "Thank you, father."