Draco

"Mother, do I have to?" I whined (well, came as close to whining as a Malfoy does) to my mother, who was standing in front of the couch I was lying on and looking down on me with her 'disappointed face'.

"Yes Draco, the Parkinsons are coming over this evening and whether you like it or not and they are bringing their daughter." My mother replied.

"But mother, she's a girl!" I retaliated taking my time to pull myself into an upright position.

"I'm well aware of that dear, why do you think your father and I arranged this meeting?"

"Business?" I said with every ounce of me devoted to sounding sarcastic. My mother rolled her eyes but quickly regained her composure. Now, if I asked my mother what part of me she would change if she could, without a second thought she would answer "your attitude".

"I'm being serious!" She spoke, her voice getting higher.

"So was I." There it goes again, I just can't control it.

"That's it! I just can't get through to you. Lucius…" Now I'm in for it. Don't get me wrong, my mother is a very strong and powerful woman but she is nothing compared to my father. In all truth, my mother is a very sophisticated and charismatic woman who could strike fear into a person (when she wanted to) faster than a bolt of lightning but she is a mere pixie in the shadow of my father.

I could hear the clicking of his cane as he drew closer. Now there was no escaping this meeting. Seconds later he stood in the doorway and I found myself looking onto his frightening figure. He harbors the same grey eyes as me and my mother but his are harder and colder than both of ours. His long hair was tied back with a black bow (of which my mother probably tied) which in my opinion took away from his threatening mask. His body was lost in the folds of his classic black robes which he insisted on wearing everywhere he went. He once told me that 'black is the color of the proud and powerful' when I asked why he wore no other color. I take his statement into account, being both proud and powerful myself, when dressing each day although that doesn't stop me from wearing the occasional green or blue.

"You called Narcissa?" He drawled silkily breaking my thoughts.

"Yes." My mother replied calmly. "Lucius, our son is refusing to go to the meeting tonight."

"What? Draco, you need to be there. We arranged this just for you." He said coolly.

"Does it really matter father, if I go or not? I'm only eleven years old and your trying to barter me off to little whiny girls as their prince charming. Can't you just let me wait a few years and find a girl for myself?" I countered expertly.

"You will meet her and give her a chance. Trust me; she is probably better than any other girl you'll find although if you do happen to go against your mother's and my wishes and bring a different girl home to us in a few years, we have the final say." Now he's being really unfair.

"But father, if I don't bring home this Parkinson girl, you will probably say no just to spite me!"

"You really are intelligent aren't you?" My father quipped.

"You're so unfair! I don't even know the girl's name!" I complained.

"It's Pansy." My mother noted.

"Pansy?" I said as I quirked my brow, "What kind of name is that? They named her after a flower? That's pathetic!"

"I'd hush up if I were you. You know very well you were named after a reptile." Mother continued.

"Yes, but at least a dragon is a symbol of power! Any dragon could snap a flower right in half…" I knew that was the right thing to say. It's impossible for them to disagree with me this time.

"Who knows Draco? One day you may very well be trying to protect her from being snapped…" With that my mother turned and walked gracefully out of the room. I stared after her with a look of pure confusion written on my face.

"Don't disappoint us son; be ready by six." After speaking his final words, my father followed my mother out. Oddly enough, my mother's words stuck in my head. Would I actually fall for this Pansy girl? One day will I actually feel the need to protect her? I pondered this for a moment before coming to a logical conclusion; yeah right!

After convincing myself that my words were completely the truth and that there was no way on Merlin's name that my mother could be right, I got up from my comfortable resting place on the soft, black leather and trudged begrudgingly up to my chambers. My shoes clicked loudly as I walked up the dark marble stairs to the living quarters; once and awhile trying to go at different paces and walk lighter to see what the result would be. The deep noise reverberated through the house, echoing off of the tapestries and paintings that hung on almost every empty surface. I had no doubt in my mind that if my mother or father heard it I would hear about it soon enough…

Reaching the landing, I took a short look down to the right before quickly turning and heading left. At the very end of the corridor on the right side are my parents' chambers. They have various rooms down there including a bathroom, my mother's reading room, my father's work room along with his private study, two guest rooms, and at the very end is their bedroom. Ever since I was little I have longed to go exploring down that way but I knew better.

I remember venturing down their once when I was around four or five. I hadn't paid much attention to the guest rooms or my mother's book room; no, I was on a mission. When I used to have nightmares or get scared at night, I would cry for my parents. It seemed as if I had cried for hours. Eventually, one of them would come to calm me down. My mother, being the caring woman she was would always give me words of comfort and stay with me for awhile until I fell back to sleep; my father, however, was not as pitying. When it was him who came to the sounds of me crying, he would open my door, give a small but threatening speech on how I was a Malfoy and too old to have nightmares. After I retreated back under the safety of my duvet, I would hear him slam the door shut and stomp back to the room he shared with my mother, the sounds of his cane clicking against the floor staying in my mind until morning.

One night, my dreams of horror were too much to take. Not wanting to wake my mother or give my father reason to come down to my room to scream at me, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Being careful not to make any noise, I slowly got out of bed and tiptoed to my door. I opened it, making sure it didn't creak, went out into the hall and closed it behind me. I groped through the blinding darkness down to the main staircase, signifying the middle of the upstairs hall. Taking a deep breath, I continued forward to their end of the quarters, a place I hadn't been since infancy. I didn't stop until I reached the end of the hallway. Noticing that the door to their chamber was opened slightly, I pushed it open, expecting to see both of my parents sound asleep in their bed. Unfortunately, I was wrong. The bed wasn't rumpled with the evidence that someone had been sleeping in it; no, it was perfectly made as if my parents were out or something.

Abandoning my escapade to their room where I had hoped that crawling under the blankets while not disturbing either of them would be good for all of us, I glumly shut the door and turned back towards my end of the quarters. I had almost reached my half way mark when I heard a low whispering. Turning around sharply, I saw a small orange light coming through the crack under the door to my father's private study. Growing curious as to why he would be in there pouring over paper work at this time of night, I crept backwards a few paces. Like the door to my parents' room, I noticed that it was opened a crack. Since my curiosity was already aroused, and it only being my father's study I presumed that what I would see was him chatting with my mother. For the second time that night, I had made a mistake; although this one, well let's just say that it was one I wish I had never made. I moved quietly towards the door and peeked in through the crack. What I saw shocked me.

The room was lit with hundreds of candles, pouring an orangish glow over the entire room. A few men wearing masks and donned in long black robes were standing around a woman with long, charcoal black hair who was talking to them in a loud whisper and was flailing her arms about in the air. I recognized her almost immediately as my aunt Bellatrix Lestrange, my mother's sister. Her face was pale and frightening, almost looking like death itself but she had this odd aura about her that made her gleam with power. I had always personally thought her beautiful in a twisted sort of way, but she couldn't compare with my mother. I looked passed her and saw that there, sitting behind his desk and clutching his cane in his hands, was my father. He, as the others was dressed in long black robes and a long, flowing cloak but unlike them, he wore no mask. He appeared to be listening intently to what my aunt had to say, nodding occasionally.

I thought it weird and had so many questions zooming around in my head. Why was my father dressed like that? Why was he in his study at this time of night with my aunt and a bunch of men I didn't know? What were they conversing about that was so secretive, they needed to meet at night and whisper to keep it hidden from prying eyes and unwanted ears? And where was my mother? And why wasn't she with them? I was brought out of my thoughts however by something my aunt was talking about.

"So it's true then? Our Master is being slowed down in his rise to power by some little brat?"

"It appears so Bellatrix." A man who I didn't know replied.

"I don't understand? The kid has no powers at all! All he has is a stupid bloody scar? How could he possibly have beaten our Master all those years ago? And furthermore, what is stopping him from coming back now? The disgrace of a boy doesn't even know he is a wizard for Merlin's sake!" Bellatrix continued on. My eyes flicked from her just in time to see my father stand up behind her.

"He's not strong enough Bella, you know that. And perhaps we underestimate this boy. It is the summer before he is to attend Hogwarts and there is no doubt in my mind that he will accept. The Potter's were both pretty intelligent and knew how to control their magic…" My father began but was cut of by a different man who gave a shrill cackle.

"In life, you mean." He grunted before laughing again.

"Either way, this Potter boy is a real problem. He needs to be taken care of once and for all." My father continued. I didn't really like the way this conversation was going…

"What was his name again Lucius?" A bigger man asked in a gruff sort of voice.

"Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter or not, we have to get our Master back into power and soon! That fool Dumbledore is the only one he was ever afraid of and he's too occupied with his precious school to even think about what's going on in our world outside of his bloody castle! I say we strike sooner than later!" My aunt raved as she slammed her fist down onto my father's desk.

"Patience is a virtue Bella…" My father mumbled.

Albus Dumbledore, I was told about him the year after the 'incident'. I was educated about my future school at a very young age, knowing some background history on it's founders and the classes. After a few hours of listening to my parents talk about how they knew that I would be going there when I turned of age and about how prestigious the house of Salazar Slytherin was, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my school career. It was going to be the dark arts for me and no one was going to change my mind.

Forgetting that I was leaning against a partially open door, I strained my ears and pushed against it's face a little harder trying to hear the finer details of the conversation when I felt it start to give way. Realizing this too late, the next thing I knew, I was lying face first on the floor at the entrance of the study. I stared up cautiously to find that all of the eyes in the room were on me and all their mouths fell open into a stunned silence. After a few moments of staring up at them the chubby man stepped forward and lifted me to my feet.

"Looks like we've got us an eavesdropper!" The man said as he glared down at me menacingly. I wriggled out of his grasp and backed up a few paces.

"He learnt from the best…" My aunt leered as she leaned towards me, smirking slightly. She reached out one of her long, pale fingers and rested a pointy black nail under my chin, bringing my face up to meet her eyes. "Hello Draco," She said in her sweetest voice which sounded more like the hungry cries of a wolf than honey, "Shouldn't you be in your bed? It's awfully late you know." Stuttering slightly, I managed to get out a weak reply.

"I- I had a nightmare." I mumbled quietly.

"What was that?" She asked as she cupped a hand over her ear in mock deafness. "I'm sorry Draco but you're going to have to speak up."

"I said I had a nightmare." I said a little louder.

"A nightmare? Ha!" She laughed as she dropped her hand from under my chin. Suddenly her face turned grim. "My boy, there are horrors in this room that are worse than your darkest nightmares ever will be…" I stared up at her, a look of terror crossing my face. A few of the surrounding men snickered.

"What should we do with him Lucius?" Another quite chubby man said from behind my aunt. I looked up in shock to see that my father had watched the whole scene play out without uttering a word, from his place leaning against the from of the desk.

"Well, there's only one thing I can do to him now isn't there?" My father said plainly as he stepped forward out of the group. He gave a short sigh before looked around at his colleagues who were just itching to see what he was going to do. Without a second thought, he withdrew his wand from the inner pocket of his cloak, took aim and shouted "Crucio!"

"Ahhhhh!" I screamed as I fell to the ground writing in pain. Tears flowed freely from my eyes as an electric like shock coursed through my blood. I dared myself to look up, only to see that my father's face was set in a look of stone while he kept his wand on me. After a couple more minutes of smelling my burning flesh and screaming out for help, he released me from the spell and stuck his wand back into his pocket. I hurriedly pushed myself up and ran from the room trying my best to block out the laughter and jeers coming from within.

"Ah! Teaching him young I see Lucius!" A man's voice said as I ran, crying down the hall. I ran straight into my mother at the top of the stairs. She had a book in her hand so I assumed she had been in the library or the den.

"Draco? What's the matter?" She asked with concern in her voice. I didn't reply. She reached up to wipe away my tears with her free hand, but before she could reach my cheek I tore down the corridor, not stopping until I had locked myself safely in my room.

I cried myself to sleep that night and stayed locked in my room until the next evening when my mother came to retrieve me for supper. Apparently she had scolded my father for using such a harmful spell on a child and threatened him to never do it again. That evening she made a deal with me: if I didn't go into their quarters anymore, allowing my father his privacy, they would follow through with the same respect for me. Ever since that night I hadn't stepped foot on the right side of the staircase, it brought back too many memories that I had wished to push to the back of my mind; not to mention I was bloody afraid of what my father would do if I ever stepped foot over there again…

Pushing the thought out of my head I continued on down towards my chamber. My end of the living quarters, like my parents', was also equipped with a bathroom, three guest rooms and a games room. When I reached the door at the end of the hallway, I wasted no time in locking myself in. Without even a glance around I threw myself onto my bed and closed my eyes for a brief slumber before I needed to get changed.

"Draco!" My eyes fluttered open at the sound of my mother's voice floating up the stairs. "Draco, I'm going out into the back garden with your father; do me a favor and get ready now, the Parkinson's will be here in just over an hour…"

"Alright mother…" I called back down to her, however, there is no guarantee that she heard me since my shout came out as barely more than a groan. When no response came back I took that she did hear me after all.

Perfect. Only one hour of peace left…

Knowing that I would get an ear full if I wasn't even contemplating on getting ready, I slowly got up and walked over to my closet. As I opened the door I stepped into a room that was almost as big as my chambers. Racks upon racks of designer robes filled up every space. Shelves of bowties, shoes, and cufflinks sat upon the walls. At the far end of the room was a small window, barely big enough for a small child to crawl through. Why there was a window in a closet, I have no clue but my mother claims that for any room to be presentable it has to have a focal point,; my closet's being the window. Why couldn't she just settle for the candelabras?

I sighed as I turned my attention towards my dress robes. Which one to wear? I stared at the rows for quite some time without making any progress. This would bee a lot easier if I didn't have hundreds to choose from.

I flicked my eyes back to the window; perhaps there was a way to narrow down my selection while having fun too…


"I don't know Lucius, are you sure we're not putting him through too much? I mean, how many suitors have we brought to him this summer? And that last girl was vulgar! We've never even met Genevieve and Clayton's daughter, how do you know that this will work out?" Narcissa prattled on while she watched her husband sip at his tea quietly.

"Don't worry about it Cissa. Everything will be just fine. I've got a good feeling about this one." He responded calmly as he set his cup down on the small table separating him from the blonde beauty in front of him.

"I trust you dear; it's just that I don't want another incident like the one with the Zabini's."

"Incident? It could have been an accident. Although I don't doubt that Draco did toss that quaffle at her head on purpose..."

"Poor Blaise probably still has the bruise."

"I wouldn't doubt it. Our son is quite the Quidditch player. No doubt that he will make the house team once he gets to school. Perhaps he'll even prove that first years should be able to try out."

"Why would he even suggest taking her flying and teach her to play Quidditch? Blaise was terrified of getting on that broom!" Narcissa exclaimed, getting slightly hysterical now.

"To show off, why else? You know how Draco is…" Lucius replied nonchalantly.

"Well this time he isn't allowed going anywhere a broom! I won't let him getting Pansy hurt!"

"As I said before dear," Lucius continued as he picked up his teacup once more, "Everything will be just fine."

Just before the cup reached his lips, a quiet swoosh was heard. He flicked his eyes upward only to be met with something heavy and black landing on his head. Reaching his hand up he drug it off his head, leaving his usually perfectly groomed hair in disarray. After setting down his cup again he glared at the ominous black object.

"What on Merlin's beard…"

"Incoming!" Narcissa shrieked as she pointed up towards the sky and jumped out of her seat to safety. Lucius followed just before he could be met with the same fate he had just encountered.

When it hit the ground, mere inches from where the irate wizard sat moments ago, he gave a low growl.

"Are those-" Narcissa stared as she walked towards her husband.

"His dress robes." Lucius finished for her. They looked skyward together just in time to see the third article of their son's closet fall to the ground.

"DRACO!" They screamed together as their angry voices reverberated through the air.


"DRACO!"

Oh no. I ran over to my window and stared out at the worst thing I could have possibly seen at this time. My window, which I had never opened previously to this day, to my horror, was situated directly above a now empty back garden.

Click!

I heard the heavy steps of my mother and father hurrying up the stairs and the swift clicking of my fathers cane as they came to give me, what would most likely be, the worst lecture of my life and the cruelest punishment possible. I have to hide… But where? My eyes scanned the room but I couldn't see any descent place to stay under cover until their wrath calmed down, or at least left the upstairs floor.

Hearing the door open, I sprinted a pile of black robes hanging on a rack near the middle and concealed myself behind them. The sounds got louder and I knew that they had entered my closet. Not a half a minute later, the robes that were hiding me were parting themselves, revealing me standing in all my cowardess before two angry looking parents. Note to self, never hide in the most obvious place in a room again.

"Draco," My mother said through clenched teeth, obviously trying to keep calm, "what, may I ask, are you're robes doing flying out the window and into the garden?"

"Actually, I think the question really is why you tossed one of your finest robes so carelessly and unceremoniously out of the window and onto my head!" my father accompanied her with a little more edge in his voice. Now I was in for it.

"I was going to get ready and I was trying to narrow down my selection?" I tried hoping that if I put on my cutest face I could get off easy.

"Oh, was that all?" My mother sighed wearily as she glared in my direction, seeming more unfazed than she should in this situation. She whipped out her wand and flicked it, sending a black and white dress robe, black dress shoes, a white bow tie and gold cufflinks in my direction. I caught them as best I could but even though I tried not to, I managed to drop the shoes to the floor.

"Hold it Cissa, I think you're forgetting something…" My father smirked as the anger disappeared from his face altogether. What was he up to? Within seconds, a black fedora and a silver cane, similar to his hit me on the side of the head before crashing to the floor.

"Ouch! That hurt!" I cried, dropping everything to the floor so I could tend to my aching temple.

"Serves you right for getting a good quarter of your robes dirty." My father quipped as he pulled his wand out of the top of his cane and sent the clothes flying onto my bed, landing in a neat pile.

"Draco, I suggest you get ready now; you're down to about twenty minutes mister." My mother said as she turned to leave. "Lucius, stay with him until he's ready. I'm going down to the lounge to wait for the Parkinson's." She called back over her shoulder.

"Why do I have to stay with him?" My father questioned. There was no response. "Cissa?" The sound of the door closing filled the air. After mumbling something incoherent under his breath, my father took me by the collar and drug me back into my room. After he flung me at the bed, he turned around and crossed his arms. "Get changed." He demanded.

"What? I'm not changing with you here!" It was hard enough to change with my bloody personal servant in the room but my father? That's just wrong.

"Get changed or the punishment I'm thinking up for your actions will be way worse, believe me." Understanding my warning, I went straight to work and began unbuttoning my shirt.

In record time I was dressed and ready for this bloody meeting. I coughed quietly, giving my father his cue to turn around. He inspected me quietly and seemed to approve, that is, until he looked at my head.

"Put the hat on Draco." I glanced at the hat on my bed before scoffing and turning my attention back to him.

"Are you crazy? That thing is ancient! Not to mention tacky…"

"Then do something with your hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" I asked in bewilderment as I blew a piece out of my face.

"It's hanging in your face and looks untidy."

"But that's how I like it!" It was the truth. I think that the way my hair clung lightly to my forehead and occasionally swung into my eyes made me look sort of mysterious; you know, the whole dark prince bit. And how would I know this? They invented mirrors for the Malfoy's needs way back. The whole bunch of us were narcissistic. But what's wrong with wanting to look good? Sometimes I wonder if the resemblance between the word 'narcissist' and my mother's name is merely coincidence.

"Do something about it Draco." My father groaned, irritated.

"And if I don't?" Now I was pushing it. Why can't I learn to shut my mouth?

"Sit." My father commanded as he pointed to the stool in front of my dresser. I obeyed quietly and winced as a bottle of Sleakeasy hair gel flew into my father's hand. I closed my eyes as he began to run the stuff through my hair. Minutes later, when I felt the warm, sticky gel stop gliding through my hair, I opened my eyes only to see my hair slicked back in it's usual way for special occasions, or when I was in public for that matter. I sighed loudly and spun around to glare at my father.

"You'll get used to it Draco. Now get your cane and let's get downstairs before your mother massacres us both for being late."

"I don't want to take the cane!" I whined. Yes, I was only making things worse for myself later, I know.

"It's the cane or a pair of my gloves." There was a short knock on my bedroom door.

"You're gloves won't fit me!" Another knock. I ignored it like I did the first one.

"I'll make them fit…"

"Master Malfoy," The voice of my mother's servant, Clark, muffled it's way into the room, "Madam Malfoy requests your presence in the lounge. The Parkinson's have arrived and they are anxious to meet the young master."

"Tell Narcissa that we'll be right there." With that, my father picked up the cane and shoved it into my hands and opened the door. Clark was already gone. I was drug out into the corridor but took my jolly old time getting to the stairs.

"Pick up the pace Draco." My father urged but I ignored him. I could almost hear his eyes roll as he hung back and waited for me.

"Father, do I have to?" I whined for what seemed like the millionth time today as I began my descent down the stairs.

"Yes Draco, you know how much this means to your mother and I." He replied as we reached the foot of the stairs. He moved to enter the room, but I pulled him back with my free hand.

"But she's a girl! I don't want to be friends with a girl! It will ruin my image!"

"Draco, be nice. And you'll learn to be more than friends with her. You know very well that the Parkinson's are valuable friends of mine and if you're mean to their daughter who knows what will happen?" They might leave, that's what will happen. Just a bonus for me…

"Why do I have to be more than friends? It's not like I'm going to marry the girl!"

"You may very well. She is a fine contender. Well bred, wealthy, pureblood…you don't find many girls with her standards any more." Her standards? I don't even know her standards and he's trying to bribe me with them!

"I swear on Merlin's name if she's anything like that Bulstrode girl…" I trailed off, shivering at the memory of the grotesque image of Millicent Bulstrode.

"Don't worry. Young Millicent is not on your list of suitors anymore. She was unworthy and far below you." You bet she was.

"Fine. I'll meet her, but I'm not saying I'm going to like her." Over my dead body was I going to like her!

"You'd better like her. Now follow me…" I gripped my cane a little tighter before entering the lounge, and believe me when I say that the sight I was met with was not what I was expecting, it was above and beyond…


A/N: I know! I finally updated! But I said I would get something up on March Break and I did! Hopefully I can get an update up for SOAS or a one shot or something else to make up for the lack of update. Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait and the next one will be up sooner (I hope). By the way, thanks to Eleen for the robe idea! It rocked!