J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

Song: Family Portrait, by Pink.

(Summer after second year, age 13)

Mama please stop cryin'
I can't stand the sound
Your pain is painful and it's
Tearing me down

Dobby is gone, thought Draco. He was freed by that Potter prat and now I have no friends this summer.

He could hear his mother sobbing in the room next to his, and every tear wrenched his heart in half.

He couldn't stand her pain, he could feel it too, and it made him angry.

He had used to hate his father because of the abuse if he did things wrong, or his candid strictness, and now he had another reason.

His father was a death eater, a follower of Voldemort.

And his father was trying to help bring him back to life, to ruin more lives.

I hear glasses breakin'
As I sit up in my bed
I told dad you didn't mean
Those nasty things you said
You fight about money
'Bout me and my brother
And this I come home to
This is my shelter

He hid his radio in a secret cabinet behind a painting above his bed, because Dobby couldn't hide it with him anymore.

Draco didn't care if his father would find him listening to it; his father never paid any attention to him these days.

His time was spent either going to secret death eater meetings or arguing with his wife, making her cry like she was now.

Draco hated it all.

I ran away today, ran from the noise
Ran away
Don't wanna go back to that place
But don't have no choice, no way
It ain't easy, growin' up in world war 3
Never knowin' what love could be
But I've seen, I don't want love to destroy me
Like it did my family

He smiled a grim smile at how true these lyrics were of him; he didn't run away, but he had thought about it.

His parents wouldn't notice, anyways. Not for a few days, at least.

It wasn't easy, that alone was true. Nothing was ever easy, but everything had always been hard for him, even the simplest of things.

"Dobby," he whispered into the air, "I miss you."

Now he had no one to comfort him after the fights.

It was utterly horrible.