So, this chapter only had Draco and Hermione.

It's hard for me to think that Draco was once and innocent child, so i'd like to know what you thing about this chapter, and what you think Draco should do everything.

other than that, I have mid terms this week and then spring break! so i'll get up at least two chapters next week. ^_^

R&R

Outerhouse Relations

Chapter 6

Draco Malfoy had many quirks in his personality and even more pet peeves. Being raised as a spoiled rich boy, he was bound to. He could be pretty easily angered by not getting what he wanted, even if he didn't always show it. It was only normal that a boy with his upbringing be used to undivided attention and respect.

So, even if Draco would never admit it, the biggest thing that he feared about life was being ignored.

The strange thing was that it wasn't because of all the afore mentioned reasons. Sure he'd always had plenty of attention, what with servants and house elves there to cater to his every need. But it wasn't because he'd been showered in attention that made him unable to stand not having it, it was that they were never the ones that he begged notice from.

Draco remembered when he was seven and Sarah, his nanny and tutor at the time had been taking care of him one day. Draco's mother had gone to visit the Blacks for the weekend and his father had promised Narcissa that he'd come home early to have dinner with Draco, so that their son wouldn't eat alone.

Sarah had just removed him from the tub and was drying him off with a towel, when she'd asked him if he was excited to be having dinner with his father tonight.

Draco remembered her smiling at him and how he wanted to exclaim how much he was looking forward to it. Instead he'd done what his father had always taught him, and controlled his facial features and voice.

"I guess," he'd replied with a shrug and he blushed when she looked him in the face with a knowing smirk. He wasn't doing a good job at pretending that seeing his father and getting to eat dinner with him, wasn't the greatest treat in the world.

"You'll be a fine man Draco," she said ruffling his hair with the towel before letting it fall to cover his face playfully.

At the time Draco had thought that he'd hid his emotions well and that she hadn't noticed his very un-Malfoy like behavior by getting excited to spend time with his dad. The Draco of now however, now knew that she'd been covering his face to save him the embarrassment she knew he'd feel at not living up to the families emotionless expectations.

Sarah had always been his favorite nanny for those very reasons. She'd always made him feel like he were the man of the house. Smiling at his attempts to not be swayed by candies and cakes that she made for him. Never saying a word when he held his head high, and swore he was only eating the sugary stuff because he didn't think it was right to turn down a present from a lady.

Or when she gave him his reading lessons and he couldn't figure out a word, she let him try as many times as he liked. And as not to step on his young and fragile pride, she would miss hear his pronunciation and pretend that he'd gotten the word right at some point.

"That's right Draco, " she'd say, "Enticing is the word. Now let's read the sentence from the beginning."

Sarah was always saying things like, "The young master is such a gentleman," or "What a charming man you'll make some day," and the like.

As Sarah combed his hair back and dusted off the shoulder of his best dress robes, she smiled at his reflection in the mirror. She knew that he was anxious, even if he was trying with all his might to hide it. Of course she didn't call out his weakness. Instead she took his hand and started down the stairs.

"Sorry to have you holding my hand," she said, "It's just that I'm terribly excited and a bit nervous, so I could use your strength for the moment."

Draco had squared his little shoulders and stood upright, clutching her hand tight to 'support her' as they walked.

"Don't worry Sarah." He said, "don't be scared, I'm not."

She'd just smiled down at him and nodded.

When they entered the dining hall, Draco pulled his hand away so that his father would not see, while Sarah took a standing position near the door.

And there he was, Lucius Malfoy, sitting at the head of the table, looking like a king. His long blonde hair pulled back and his sharp blue eyes looking down at the world because his chin was raised so high.

Draco remembered wondering if he himself, would ever look so amazing. So frightening and powerful.

"Draco," his father greeted in his bored drawl, while his eyes assessed his sons appearance. When it seemed that he was satisfied with what he saw, Draco returned the greeting.

"Father," he said and as he took a seat across from him at the table, he was proud of himself for not sounding the least bit as entranced or excided by his dad's presence as really he was.

Without another word, Lucius began his meal, while Draco sat in the silence trying to keep his manners about him and not call attention to himself.

That was what his father liked most in a son, not having to be reminded that he had one.

And as Draco tried to make as little sound with his fork clinking against the fine china, his mind was listing off all of the things he'd like to talk to his father about. He wanted to hear his dad's voice and admire it's cool drawling tone that Draco tried to emulate. To watch the sneer that made his father fearsome when he talked of things he hated, or to even glimpse the self satisfied smirk that, Draco himself, had already inherited.

Still, he knew better than to speak out of turn. Quietly he made it through the courses of food, and by dessert he was antsy and itching to be seen by Lucius. To be noticed just once.

Unable to control himself, as a seven year old sometimes was, he spoke.

"Father?" he uttered, and the emission seemed to go unheard as Lucius, without pause continued to eat. Draco raised his voice and tried again. "Father?"

Draco was sure that his father had heard him, yet Lucius didn't break in his consumption. Draco felt frustration rise in him and swallowed it down. How unbecoming of him to have felt irritation. He took a deep breath. He wanted to tell his dad about the book that Sarah and he had finished today. He wanted his father to look at him with that rare affection and pride that Lucius reserved for upper class gatherings, when Draco was his single model pureblood son and heir to the Malfoy name.

Draco Craved it.

"Dad," he said pitifully, looking up at his stony faced father with what he knew was probably a disgraceful look of desperation on his face.

"Sarah," Lucius spoke calmly and Sarah approached, head bowed as if she were the one who had done wrong. He let her stand beside his chair while he looked ahead of himself thoughtfully and chewed another small bite of his food. He swallowed, picked up his napkin, spotted at the corners of his mouth and then set the cloth down beside his plate, before addressing her.

"Put him away," he spoke softly. "He's sullied my night."

Sarah bowed and helped Draco from his chair. Draco's heart was racing, his face hot and his eyes stung. Would his father really not address him, even in distaste. He tried to contain his anger and not add another badge of indignity to his father's night, as Sarah placed a hand on Draco's back and steered him to the door.

"Sarah," Lucius called again before they were out of the threshold, and Sarah spun them both around as Lucius gracefully stood and straightened his robes. He moved around the table and as he approached them, his eyes stayed glued to Draco's, and Draco tried to blink away the stinging in his eyes and knew that they glistened shamefully.

When Lucius was standing only a foot away he slowly turned his gaze on Sarah. Then with a swift grace that only his father could possess, he struck her face with the back of his hand, sending her to the ground. The jewel of his wedding ring had opened a gash from ear to nose across her cheek, and the blood swelled.

"I expect you to be packed and gone within the hour. You seem to be having a poor influence on the boys etiquette," he said, while looking at his ring as he centered it on his finger. When he seemed to have perfected it's placement, he walk out of the doors of the dining hall without a second glance at either of them.

Looking back, Draco realized that it had been Sarah's mistake to have placed that comforting hand on Draco's back in front of his father. Just that small gesture had been a sign of her weakness to Lucius Malfoy. And he thought of weakness as a plague that would surly spread to his son. And in truth, it had. Sarah's kindness was contagious.

Draco remember standing there, looking down at Sarah with his eyes wide, unable to move. He remembered feeling his tears being hot against his cheeks and he also recalled wishing that it had been him instead.

That his father couldn't even be bothered to strike his own son when displeased with him, had brought Draco to the understanding of just how invisible he really was to his father. The only person in the world that he wanted to see him.

His father had never struck him, never found him important enough to strike. A servant's follies were more cause for his concern than his own son. In the coming years after that night, Draco had realized how strange it was to wish that his father would be abusive to him, as he was with everyone else in the house. His father's cold mental cruelty was unmerciful, and had Draco's will broken more effectively than any beating could have managed, by the time he was of school age. And Draco supposed that that was what his father had been going for. And for Lucius, it was a job well done.

He didn't expect for people to understand, not that he'd have told anyone, but being ignored was more hurtful than anything anyone could possibly do to him.

It was no surprise that when he'd entered school he was such an attention seeking little twat, and he supposed he was really no different from any other bully with problems at home. So he wasn't about to start boo hoo-ing over the things he'd had no power over in his life.

Either way, Hermione's ability to ignore him was stabbing him deeper than she could possibly know. He'd hated her for it during school, and had been extremely put out by it when they started working together, and now he was feeling hurt by it. She made him feel insecure and insufficient.

It was just like that dinner with his father. Although he hated his weakness, he craved her attention and approval. And even though it was as stupid now, as it had been then, he was ready to do, or say anything, to stop this unbearable silence.

He couldn't tell her about this traumatizing childhood experience which led to his needing her to talk to him right now, even if that was what he was supposed to do in this situation. Instead he could handle something that had less of an effect on his long term mental state in life to get her attention. He had plenty of traumatizing stories he could share and she was dying to know more about him. Why not start with the most recent and last of the traumas his father would inflict in his life time?

Draco hated this vulnerability. Hated even more that it was such a weakness, that he was willing to dredge up the past, something he avoided religiously, in order to have Hermione rapt by his presence. Sickened by the fact that, the thought of her being gripped in his life stories, was comforting to him at all. But hey, he was fucked up, and at least he was contented with the fact that, if he had to tell anyone, it would be her he could trust.

Hermione sat in the middle of Harry's bed with her Zune at full volume, reading her book, and trying her best not to look at Draco, who was sitting quietly behind her against the headboard.

To be completely honest, yes, she was angry with him for laughing in her face the way he had, but she was more than aware that he could hardly help himself. She'd learned from time spent with him, and his letter to Blaise, that he loved to see her riled up and she found it somewhat endearing in truth.

No, the reason she was being so hard on him, was because she could use this time to her advantage, and try to come up with a way to explain about that Pansy incident. Okay, so it wasn't right and it wasn't fair, but she found herself being more and more dishonest with her morals and herself, the longer she spent with him.

She couldn't understand what was wrong with her, and just as she started to contemplate the 'whys' of her stupidity around him, her ear plugs were gently removed from her ears.

She was ready to turn to him and shoot him a scowl, but before she could face him, she was drawn backward by the hips. He moved her as easily as if she were a rag doll and in moments she was positioned between his legs, with her back to his chest and his arms caging her.

He rested his forehead on her shoulder and sighed, and it felt magnificent being in close proximity like this. But if she gave in now, she'd be facing a worse situation soon after.

"Malfoy, I-," Hermione started, not about to let herself be so easily swayed, but he cut her off.

"After the war," he started, his voice deep, clear, and exasperated, and Hermione closed her mouth and sat still, realizing the weight of what was coming. He let the statement hang in the air for a while and Hermione waited patiently for him to continue. The sound of one of her favorite songs, Silvia by Miike Snow, creating a strange mood setting tone, from her fallen ear buds.

"After the war," he started over, having seemed to gain some resolve, "I was acquitted for being underage and working for the dark lord with family circumstances against me. My father had not yet been sentenced, but we all knew what was coming for him." Draco took a pause as if thinking of all the unforgivable things his father had done and the punishment that awaited him.

"He asked me to go to America with all the money I'd inherit soon and hide him as a fugitive. He told me that I would never be accepted back into society here. That I was the reason for Dumbledore's death and could never be forgiven by the wizarding world." He let out a dry laugh. "Suppose he was right about that last part," he added bitterly and Hermione couldn't help but squeeze his hand once, then remembering herself and his hatred for pity or comforting, she resisted doing it again. This time it seemed though, that he appreciated the small gesture as he gave her neck a light kiss before continuing.

"He guilted me into agreeing, but when I asked him about mother, I started to think twice about what I was doing for the first time. He was going to leave my mom here alone and have her confess to more than half of his crimes because he knew she would get off easier, having never been a Death Eater herself and using wanting to protect me from the Dark Lord, as an excuse." His body tensed and Hermione imagined that he was recalling the exact words of the conversation.

"And my mother…" he started again with a sort of disgust in his tone, "had agreed to it without a second thought. She didn't want him to end up in Azkaban. Why? After all he did to her. I still don't understand, but I realized that if I helped him get away, he'd continue to control our lives forever and my mom, although she still doesn't understand it, deserved better than that."

Hermione smiled at his declaration and then suddenly felt horrible. Here he was, telling her all of this because he wanted her forgiveness for something that she wasn't even all that mad about. All she was thinking about was saving her own skin about the Pansy thing and he was trying to better their relationship.

"Anyway," he said, acquiring that strain in his voice that people get when they've come to the part of the story that they don't want to relive.

It was the same with reading the letters she thought, she felt like she was stealing something from him. And just as she was feeling monstrous enough to let him continue, her morals kicked into automatic.

"Wait," she said, and couldn't believe she was doing this. Without facing him, she shut her eyes and spit it out before she lost her courage. "I…, I read your letters."

There was a long pause where neither of them moved. Finally Draco spoke.

"What letters?"

Oh great, he didn't know about them and now she was going to have to explain…

"The ones to Blaise," she said firmly, trying not to cower and she could feel him stiffen behind her.

"What?" he breathed out softly, his confusion mounting.

"In the box, in his closet. He has all the letters you wrote him since starting work at Hogwarts," she continued and could tell that realization was setting in as his chest began to rise and fall more rapidly. He was obviously trying to control himself as he spoke again.

"Did he give them to you to read?" he asked and Hermione didn't know if she was safer staying close to him so that he would stay in check, of if she should just hop away. She decided to stick close. If she ran away, he would be even more angry with her.

"I found them while you were out today," she admitted and it was like signing her own death warrant. He took deep shaky breaths and then Hermione, as she was bound to do in this situation, said something stupid.

"I'm so sorry Draco..."

Draco pulled his arms away from her, climbed off the bed and stood staring at her like he'd never seen her before. A mix of confusion and disbelief on his face that Hermione could never have imagined him sporting until now.

"Draco…" she tried, her voice giving its first quiver, and he just shook his head 'no' slowly.

"Just," he started, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth like he was fighting back a migraine. He stayed like that for a few breaths and then opened his eyes, looking deep into hers. "Just…" he tried once more, and then shaking his head 'no' again as if there were no words, he left the room.

Hermione sat there and weighed her chances at making this relationship last. With betrayal and distrust tipping the scale in favor of 'not so clean break up', she was preparing for the worst. She couldn't imagine forgiving someone for something like that. And if she, of all people couldn't do it, how would Draco?

What did you think of kid Draco ^_^?

What would you do if you where him?

What would you do if you were Hermione?