Little Dragon

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters that you know from the Harry Potter series. I am not JK Rowling because I would be publishing this for money if I were.

Chapter 1

Draco sighed as he stared blankly at the stone wall of his bedroom chamber. Why did it always seem that his father exploded his rage on Draco whenever he was struggling in anything, even just the small things that showed he was being challenged? It seemed that he expected him to be perfect in every way. "Why can't he just leave me alone? Why can't he accept the fact that I'm not perfect?" he muttered to the wall.

There was no way to escape Lucius Malfoy as long as Draco was in Malfoy Manor. He'd thought about taking his broom and flying off, but some how his father had bound him to the grounds unless Draco was in his presence. He was just going to have to wait until school came around to be free of him. Luckily, the Hogwarts Express departed for the castle in a week, so Draco would be free. He longed for the day the train would take him back to Slytherin dungeon.

But then, of course, there would be Potter to deal with. Damn it to Hell, Draco found it difficult to outright hate the boy anymore. Yes, he still acted as though he did because of his father and Housemates, but he admired Potter for the fact that he'd beaten the Dark Lord four times and came back alive every time. Draco could still act the snot-nosed brat, but he'd had a change of heart over the summer holidays. The problem was going to be that Potter, Weasley and Granger would hate him.

Weasley. Now there was a person he hated. Just because he was a Weasley, too. It was an old familial prejudice, Draco knew. Even though he was so completely anti-Malfoy-traditions, the hate of anything Weasley had been driven so far into his head that it would take a miracle to change it. Draco had earlier decided to try and change any Malfoy mindset, but this was one he wasn't sure he could.

There was a soft knock at his door. "Draco? Dear? Your father would like to speak with you." It was his mother, Narcissa. Draco knew that when his father was involved with a so-called request, he had no choice but to do as he was "asked".

"Yes, Mother. I'll be right down." Draco sighed as he climbed off of his bed. He knew that this, like any other discussion with his father, would most likely become violent. Draco was sure that he would wind up with a scar this time, given that his father had recently begun to talk to him about the Dark Lord. He knew his father wanted him to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. A shudder wracked his body as he thought about it. Given the option a few years ago, and he would have jumped at the chance to be in his father's group. Now, Draco didn't want any part of Lord Voldemort or the Death Eaters or any of the rest of it.

Draco opened the big wooden doors that led to his father's library. There was a sense of old power in the room. Draco paid it no mind, he knew that was why his father used the library to talk to him; it gave him a sense of power and control over his son. It no longer worked on Draco, but Lucius was too dense to figure that out. Draco laughed inwardly at his father's stupidity while keeping a straight, emotionless face. He used this façade with his father because it annoyed him when he was working for an emotional response from Draco. Sometimes, though, Draco used the opposite emotional response of which his father wanted to doubly piss him off. Draco felt like he incited the riots between himself and Lucius many times, but it didn't matter to him. He would anger his father whenever he could because he enjoyed it.

"Draco." Lucius drawled. "I've been waiting for you for some time. What kept you?"

"I was changing robes when Mother said you wanted to speak with me. I was unfinished. I doubted that you wanted to see me half-dressed." Draco lied. He had indeed changed robes, but he had done so hours beforehand. His father did not press him on the matter, but continued on his own path.

"You realize that your sixteenth birthday is approaching quickly; you shall be above the age where you are restricted from doing magic outside of school." Lucius pointed out, his back to his son. "You will also be able to take your Apparition test." Draco knew all of this, but made no sound of recognition. Lucius knew he was listening.

"The Dark Lord has taken an interest in your talents." Lucius continued. Draco cursed silently in his head. He knew the discussion would turn to Voldemort. His father would now proceed to tell him for what Voldemort wanted him.

Draco decided to head his father off. "I have told you before," Draco said, his voice emotionless, "that I have no interest in serving nor do I have any love for the Dark Lord. I will not serve him for any purpose." Draco could see the anger building up in his father. Lucius' fists clenched, he stood impossibly straight.

"Draco," Lucius said, his voice low and threatening, "I have told you every time you have said those words that you do not have a choice in the matter any longer. The Dark Lord has chosen you and, as you are my son, you will do as he wishes, one way or another!" Lucius' voice crescendoed to a fortissimo with every word, as his voice quickened. Draco was unfazed, which enraged his father even more.

Draco looked stonily at his father's angry face. "I no longer care what you do our say, Lucius Malfoy. As far as I am concerned, I am not and never have been your son. You are quite possibly the most controlling, most domineering father this world has ever seen. I shall not listen to nor shall I obey any wishes, desires, nor orders from either you or the Dark Lord."

Lucius' hand landed on Draco's cheek like a ton of bricks, but Draco stood his ground. He had learned to fight with his hands, even learning to deflect certain spells with his mind. Draco fell into a fighting stance, quickly disarming and immobilizing his father, and said in a quiet, even, emotionless voice, "I no longer have any love for you, and no longer am I a Malfoy. Release me from the grounds, and I shall never return to this place. Inform your master that I shall not join him, nor shall I follow his orders. Do this, or I shall kill you on the spot, which will release these charms that hold me here. It is your choice. Do or die."