He felt the anger boiling up inside of him. Fathers were supposed to love their children, protect their children; his father did neither of those things. You do have fathers like that, a small voice that sounded similar to Danger's said inside his mind. In fact you have two, two loving fathers who would do anything for you.
It didn't matter to Draco Black if he had these fathers. At this moment all he could see was his blond hair cascading in front of his grey eyes, the perfect image of his notorious Death Eater father.
He turned away from the mirror but the pictures that had haunted him for the past few months were playing in his head: His father's shadow looming over him as he prepared to hit his four-year old self, his father's sneering face from across a picnic blanket, his father's hand looming in front of his face, cutting him deeply with a knife to match the scar on Hermione's cheek, his father holding his arm out to Luna in the graveyard where his body lay, and her accepting it.
Draco gasped at this last vision and dropped to the floor, unable to hold back his emotions any longer. He clutched at his stomach as the sobs racked his body. For months he had been holding back these emotions and now, simply from looking in a mirror, they had broken free.
He ripped off his pendants, not wanting Harry or Hermione or Luna to burst in on him like this. "And the worst part is there is nothing I can do about it," he cried softly. No matter how hard he tried to be his own person, all anyone saw in him was his father. All he saw in himself was his father.
Suddenly, at that thought, a spark lit inside Draco's mind - Maybe there is something I could do about it. He rose from the floor and stared at his reflection. A hand reached up to twist a bit of his hair. A wicked smile spread across his face as he reached for his wand. He pointed it directly at his head and muttered a spell, a simple cutting charm.
There, he thought looking at himself. Now I look like me. Draco Black, son of the Marauders and damn proud of it! He ran his hand over his head once more before stepping out of the bathroom and into the main Den room.
The heads of his Pridemates rose up quickly, some in shock but all of them held a similar expression in their eyes. He knew then that he would be all right, no matter what his father tried, as long as he had his Pack and Pride. Draco joined his friends, all of them marveling at his newly buzz haircut but it was the small, cool hand clasped with his own that made him smile the most.