This is my very first fan fiction, I hope you enjoy it! More to come soon!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, they belong to J.K. Rowling
Draco Malfoy sat teary eyed on the front door step to his manor, rereading a note he's sure was a misunderstanding. His father would never have disrespected the Dark Lord. Never. He worshipped him. He'd give his left leg if it meant he'd pleased him. No, but the note clearly says, "I am deeply distressed to inform you that your parents have been murdered by none other than the Dark Lord himself. We have reason to believe that your mother and father, Narcissa and Lucious Malfoy, had declined a task of the Dark Lords wishes." He stopped abruptly as a tear fell from his left eye, wetting the sheet of parchment below. He could hardly go on. his sight was distorted, his eyes were so full of water. "Your parents have been murdered" He repeated those same five words over and over in his head. How could this have happened? He thought his family was safe! How could they have been so careless? To deny the Dark Lords command! Draco wanted to cry out, to say the Dark Lords name so he would come and duel him. He didn't even care if he would die in the process.
He dried his eyes with the back of his hand and continued to read the rest of the tarnished letter. "I am sure you know of your godparents by now, If I am mistaken, It will be in my best interest to introduced them immediently, as you will remain with them until your 18th birthday." Draco, infact, had no idea who his godparents were. To be truthful, he had never thought it important to know, and apparantly his parents hadn't either.
He began to wonder what wretched Death Eater his parents chose for him to stay. Hopefully Goyles father, although Draco doubted this, their parents very rarely spoke to one another aside from the discussions of the circle. Maybe Snape? Draco shuddered at the thought, though he enjoyed watching him take away house points from the Gryffindors, he wondered if he even owned a shower. And then a horrible thought whisped its way into his mind. What if his mother chose his aunt, Belletrix Lestrange? The Idea made him cringe. Surely his mother would realise she was mentally unstable? Draco understood devotion, having been raised by a man who allowed the Dark Lord to brandish his arm, but Draco had another word for his aunt Bella. Obsessive. He peered back down at the tear-stained letter in his hands and began to read. "Since you are not of age, ministry representatives will arrive at ten o'clock the following morning to transport you to your guardians house through side-along apparation."
It was two minutes to ten, without finishing, he folded the letter carefully along its already made creases and placed it in his jacket pocket. Scuffeling to his feet to collect his trunk, he walked towards the front door and took a breath in. This would be the last time he would see the place he spent his childhood. Draco was bemused by how emotional this cerebration made him. He had always resented his returning to the "Exquisit Malfoy Manor." He never thought there was anything exquisit about his home, he thought it was rather lonely.
He pulled open the door and crossed into the dark foyer. Dracos footsteps bounced around the broad ceiling. He glanced towards the top of the grand staircase, where his bedroom, the only place where he felt truely at home sat, awaiting the return of the boy who would not come back.
He pondered running up there, locking his door and refusing to leave, when he heard a crack. And then a small, shaking voice said "M-master..." A frail looking house elf stood in the middle of the room, looking at the floor as if ready to be scolded. A handsome trunk perched beside him. "H-h-here i-is your trunk, Sir...I have p-packed what you o-ordered." His eyes did not meet Dracos.
He walked forward towards the spot were the house elf stood with his trunk. He could see the elfs arms shaking as he approached. Draco never understood the cruelty his father sent towards the house elves, he always thought it was his way of feeling powerful, but the thought of what their house elves have had to experience, he felt guilt. He pushed that thought aside. If his father ever knew he felt bad for house elves he would have been disgusted.
He stopped walking. The house elf was looking up at him with such fear in his eyes it made Dracos stomache churn. "Uhm... Thanks Frubey..." He stood there a little longer, both boy and house elf staring at the floor. And then Draco Malfoy did something that would surely have repulsed his father, he took the chain from around his neck and handed it to the house elf. "Take it." he ordered.
Frubey looked up at Draco, his eyes wide in utter disbeleif as he reached out and folded his feeble fingers around the silver chain. His eyes filled with tears, he said "M-master!"
"Don't call me that!" Draco scoffed, "Just go, your'e free."