Chapter two: Nine, and unwanted.
Draco Malfoy was glad to be in his room. He knew what was happening in his parent's room and felt like vomiting. Not like it was an uncommon occurrence. He knew it had been happening for more than 6 months now. Draco allowed himself to cry. It felt so good to cry, to let his feelings out. He wanted to leave this house and to take his mother with him. He knew it was impossible; his father would track them down. At least he had Hogwarts in two years. His mother could not escape, he knew. He continued his Transfiguration studies, sighing at the thought of sitting here for three more hours, until six o'clock when he ate dinner and then his father gave him quidditch lessons. At 8 o'clock, he was forced to sleep with sleeping potions. Apparently, he needed beauty sleep. He was just sitting at his oak wood desk (Malfoys get only the best.) minding his own business, studying, when his father burst in. "Insolent boy!" He yelled. "Have you been crying?" He spat that word like it was poison. "No, father." He lied smoothly. "LIES!" screamed his father, coming at him like a twelve-speed broom. Lucius Malfoy grabbed his son's neck and threw him against the wall. "No son of mine will lie to ME! You should be grateful, you little maggot, that you were born into this family! You deserve to be a MUDBLOOD!" Draco was thoroughly confused now. He had done his studies for the past five hours, ignoring the pain except for when he had a tiny outburst and cried for about ten seconds before he pulled himself together. His father let him fall to the floor and kicked him. "Be grateful that I didn't use Crucio! When you are ten, I will not use it sparingly!"
Oooh! I left you on a cliffhanger didn't I? Whatcha gunna do bout it? I guess you have to waaaaaaaaait!