Author's Note : My first fanfic, fingers crossed! The story itself is better than the summary, I promise! When reading, try to pretend that the 6th and 7th book don't exist. Oh, and there's not any Draco/Hermione interaction in this chapter, but there will be in the next one. :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Happy reading :)

A Father's Order

The room was dimly lit, and all that was visible through the poor lighting were two hunched figures softly conversing in hushed, whispered tones. As the sun begins to rise over the towering but distant mountains, the two figures become clearer. One individual is, quite obviously a woman, and even without the proper light to observe her, there was no doubt that she was extravagantly beautiful. Her platinum blonde hair cascaded down her back in lush thick curls. And though her features were soft, her face showed little emotion.

The young man sitting opposite her was very unlike her in appearance, but yet they still shared some defining features. He had the same silvery blonde hair that the woman had, but his was fairly straight, and it dangled somewhat mysteriously over his silver stone-set eyes. This boy had the strangest look on his face, filled with emotions and thought, yet still guarded. He spoke in a ragged voice.

"Mother, you know I was never interested in the dark arts the way Father is. I have no desire of joining the Dark Lord and his quest to rid the world of muggles."

Narcissa Malfoy looked at her son wearlily. "Draco, dear. I know that. But you must not make it seem so. Your father…. he'll hurt us both, Draco…..if he knew."

She placed a comforting hand on her only son's stiff shoulder, to reassure him that somehow, even in the chaotic mess they were in, everything was going to be okay. Draco mustered a weak smile.

The sound of an opening door echoed throughout the immense expanse of what was known as the Malfoy Manor. Narcissa had removed her hand from her son's shoulder, just as fast as Draco's faint smile had vanished.

A man sauntered slowly and soundlessly over the ornate tile floor. He walked in the most stealthily way, silent, but yet, not unheard. The man carried a black polished cane, but it was not because he had a walking ability...oh no..he was much more creative than that. That was not the only unusual aspect of this man. He had long sleek hair which he often tied in bow. It may have seemed funny to think of a bow in a male's hair, but there was absolutely nothing comical about Lucius Malfoy.

He glided towards Narcissa and Draco, with no emotion shown on his face or in his callous eyes. Lucius reached his family and glanced at his son momentarily.

"Draco…a word?" he spoke calmly, stiffly.

Draco knew that it was not a request, but rather a command. Especially since it was coming from the likes of Lucius.

"Yes father." Draco rose obediently and silently from his deep green arm chair. He followed Lucius through the winding and elaborately adorned hallways of Malfoy Manor, and when Lucius stopped abruptly in front of his own office door, Draco collided into the hard back of his father.

"Watch it, boy!" Lucius snarled.

"M-my apologies, father. I shall be more careful"

Draco was indeed fearful of the man he stood in front of. And though he tried to supress this fear, he was often not successful. Lucius stepped into the office and made a hand motion which signaled Draco to follow, and Draco quickly complied.

Lucius' office was no ordinary office. The ceiling seemed never-ending and the room itself was unimaginably large. Hundreds of mahogany bookcases lined the wall, and thousands upon thousands of dusty books were resting gravely on the shelves. Draco had no doubt that most of the books in Lucius' extensive library involved the dark arts. The windows that stretched from the floor all the way to the ceiling could've easily made the room an open, cheery place, if only they were not covered by thick green heavy curtains. These curtains were not to be opened; they were never to be opened, for Lucius loathed sunlight. The lighting in the room was provided by countless candles strategically placed so that no corner, no matter how small, was left in the dark. Draco inwardly shuddered.

Lucius slowly seated himself onto his black leather chair behind his desk, and watched his son's actions. Draco slowly approached the desk and placed himself in the less elaborate seat across from his father. Draco noticed that his father kept the desk quite neat and all that lay upon it were a few scrolls and a heavy book whose title read "Unlocking the Dark Arts". A quick look of disgust passed across the young Malfoy's face, and it was gone just as soon as it had come. However, Lucius was quite observant, and he did not fail to notice the passing look on his son's face. He made the decision to ignore it, and at last Lucius' deep reverberating voice sounded.

"Boy, how old are you?"

"Wha-…umm….I'm 16 father" Draco mumbled.

"Right. I feel...that you are old enough to receive an honor...which can only be bestowed upon by the...Dark Lord." Draco could tell that his father chose each word carefully, precisely.

"What do you mean, father?" Draco felt it would be best to prolong the inevitiable.

"You know very well what I mean, boy!"

"Father I-"

You know why I have called you here!"

"Why, Father?"

"Don't play dumb with me, boy! It's about time that you make yourself useful to this family! You will recieve the Dark Mark."

Though Draco knew very well what Lucius had in store for him, if infuriated him even further to hear the news being spoken outloud. Draco suddenly felt a strong urge to rebel, but he knew better than to pick a fight with Lucius Malfoy. He decided to see how far he could push Lucius.

"Father, I am but 16! I thought once I got out of school-"

"It is 2 years until you graduate, Draco."

"Yes, but…the teachers! Dumbledore! They'll find out!" he said the first thing that came to mind, no matter how ridiculous. Perhaps he could gain more time?

"Then it is your responsibility to ensure that they DON'T find out." Lucius was getting quite impatient

"But-"

"I will have no such nonsense!" boomed Lucius "You WILL receive the mark whether it is your desire or not! Do I make myself clear?"

"But…I……Yes, sir" Draco ground out somewhat mockingly.

Draco understood that he had already stretched Lucius to his breaking point, and he did not want to experience his father's anger if Lucius lost his temper.

"You will come home for Christmas break, and it is then that you will receive the mark. It is an honor, Draco. I will have no more arguments regarding this subject! You may leave."

Draco gruffly and forcefully stood up from his chair, and while doing so, he knocked the armchair backwards. He did not bother to set it upright, and he stormed from the office muttering curse words under his breath. Draco Malfoy did in fact fear Lucius, but Draco was quite irrational and reckless when he was angry, and so, for the time being, his fear of Lucius had whittled away into nearly nothing.

Lucius had never given him choices in matters that were of Draco's business. Draco knew this was not the first time that his father had made decisions for him. He thought back to his first day of Hogwarts.

Flashback 'He sat nervously inside the old wooden rowboat that was making its way to the towering, castle that was even visible from miles away. It glided effortlessly through the calm, placid water, until finally they had arrived. Stars were twinkling in delight, each one shining in glory. He knew that sorting was only a few moments away, and he thought back to what Lucius had told him. "Slytherin is your only option, boy! Just think! The shame, the humiliation you would cast upon our family if you were sorted elsewhere! Boy, I'm telling you now, you WILL be punished if your sorting is not to my liking!" Draco shuddered when he thought of the punishments Lucius' sick mind could craft.

The aged, worn sorting hat was placed upon his head. He wrung his hands in anxiousness.

"My, my…where to put you….? Great mind…I see. You would do quite well in Ravenclaw…"

"But-"

" And…oh! Yes…there is courage….A decent sense of right and wrong…"

"But I-"

"Perhaps…Gryffindor..?"

"No! I…I must…must be in S-Slytherin.."

"Are you sure that is what you desire?"

"Yes...it...is. "

"Very well then…I do take into consideration the house of which the student prefers. If you insist that it must be so…then…..SLYTHERIN!!"

The last word was spoken aloud, and the table adorned in deep green burst into thunderous applause.' End flashback

Had Lucius actually taken away his chance to fit in? The chance he had to be with people who he could talk to as an equal? His 'friends' in Slytherin were only interested in the Dark arts, and picking on first years, but he found no enjoyment in doing either. What would it have been like if he were sorted into the house in which he truly belonged?

Draco sat still and stiffly at his large desk inside of his immense room. Undoubtedly, Lucius Malfoy was the most unbearable person alive, and Draco had the unfortunate luck of having him as a father.

Draco clenched his fingers together. He could feel his own fingernails dig into the callused palm of his hand. With a scowl on his face, he brutally slammed down his fist onto the mahogany of his desk. The glass figurine standing innocently on the edge of the desk plummeted off the edge. It shattered on contact with the cold, hard tile floor. The expression on his face was of pure fury. He swung his arm around with as much force as he could muster, and it sickly collided with the pewter vase in front of him. The vase smashed into the peeling grey walls, with a deafening sound could equally compare with the thunder outside. Much to his discontent the vase did not shatter, as the figurine did, but stayed completely intact and unblemished.

A dark look of pure resentment flashed across his clouded grey eyes. All his hate, all his anger, was directed solely at his father. He slowly sauntered over to the pewter vase, and stopped when he was directly in front of it. He took his time to crouch down and gently pick it up. Every move that he made was sharp and rigid. As if he couldn't control his anger any longer, he heaved the piece of pewter out the tinted glass window. The window smashed into thousands of sharp pieces, and the shards lay untouched on the cold floor.

Draco was breathing heavily and his chest rose up and down in an unpredictable pattern. Draco gave a deep sigh and fell back onto his soft bed. His anger slowly diminished.

He wanted, more than anything, to get away from this place, this cold, unwelcoming place that he had been taught to call home. He had finally calmed down after his unreasonable fit, and he looked at the destruction he had caused. He made a note to himself that he needed to learn how to control his temper.

Draco still lay upon his deep blue satin sheets that draped gracefully over his bed and flowed smoothly onto the floor. 'Just one more day, one more day until Hogwarts' he thought. Draco drifted into thought, of what everyday life would be like once he left Malfoy Manor. He thought about his 'friends' and wondered whether they would be happy to see him again. Draco supposed that he truly didn't have any 'real' friends, but rather a back-up team, his posse. And, of course, no matter how wrong it was, he was quite excited that he could once again tease Potter and his 2 best friends. Oh how he loved picking on Hermione Granger, it was so easy to get a rise out of her! Maybe he didn't belong on the Dark side, but hey, he never said he was a saint.

One more day…..he couldn't wait!

Author's Note: Yeahh..i know it sucks. sorry

review anyway?

Contructive critisism is welcome