Chapter 10- The brief discussion

"Caught for doing what you sorry son of a bitch?!" Draco screamed at Goyle, who was cowered and shattered down on the floor.

"Get up! We're going to fight like a couple of muggle drunks! That'll teach you!...I said get up now you coward!"

"D-draco…calm down, I was just,"

Draco took his wrist with arduous force and yanked him up. He punched him, and then went in for another, only to be halted by the other two.

"Stop man…this is ridiculous!" Crabbe protested, not convincing the vengeful and unforgiving Draco Malfoy.

"Don't you tell me to stop you pathetic fatass! I can handle this myself!"

Goyle received a strong and painful kick to the stomach, making him double over.

"I-I'm s-sorry Draco…" Goyle muttered, as politely as he could for his life's sake.

Draco quit his outrageously heinous antics and snarled one last thing before going back to bed.

"No you're not you pathetic waste of air…you're just afraid of me."

The three looked at him, in tremendous fear. Crabbe had the audacity to speak.

"I'm afraid now…we all are."

….

The three fear stricken Slytherins' decided to spend the rest of that night in Filch's corridor, for obvious reasons. It was clear that Draco's aggression problem was getting worse, and he needed some serious counseling, at least his 'friends' thought he did.

….

He couldn't sleep for the rest of that night, he was just too distracted. Not only from his ridiculously frequent thoughts of Hermione, but the previous situation he was in. He took his anger out on the dresser, still using his muggle efforts, by kicking and pounding the it.

It took a while for him to calm down and retain his thoughts.

'Maybe those gits' are right…I've got the same anger issues as my loathing, ungrateful father. Hell, it seems like they'd be used to it by now…I've been pure rage and torture for the past five years. Five years…hold on…that's how long I've known…her…she did this to me…shit, I should've known. The filthy, disease filled muggle! Why is she doing this to me? Damn it…she's about to get one hell of a torturous treatment the next time those brown eyes meet mine…'

Holiday break had approached, and everyone had been packing their things for their brief stays at home. Most of the students loved getting time off of school. Except for one…Draco. He did enjoy not being in school, but he hated being around his father, his arrogant, highly prejudicing, stuck up, tight ass, Voldemort worshipper. He prayed that he wouldn't grow up to be anything like him, yet he was already taken on a few of his characteristics, aside from the physical features, the aggressiveness, muggle born stereotype, and enough formal class for a king.

His mother on the other hand, was nothing to fear. Her sweet and gentle nature was something to look forward to; of course he kept this side of him to himself. She was nothing like Lucius Malfoy. Almost the complete opposite in fact. Draco wondered constantly why on earth his genial and innocent mother married such a brutal and self-loathing man. As much as a mystery it was, Draco was certain of one thing, now that he was experiencing a similar dilemma to his parents 'acquaintance.' His love interest who was the complete contradiction to him, by blood and persona. As they say, opposites attract.

….

He dazed out the window on the train. He was alone. His currently former mates were sitting in another compartment, clearly still angry at Draco. He didn't give a bother though, he was perfectly fine by himself. At the time he had preferred the silence anyway.

….

The arrival to his manor was a bit frightful for him. It was likely just the way his father was glaring at him from the doorway. His mother smiled, innocently. His returned the gesture, for he had much more admiration for his mother than his father.

He gulped and held his shaking hand out to father. Their hands met and shook quickly.

"Draco."

"Father."

"Come inside, son."

Draco exhaled and took a step inside.

It was just like it always was. Cold, dark, and chillingly suspenseful. He was guided by his father towards the large dinner table, often used for Death eater meetings.

"Take a seat, son. We have some discussing to do." Lucius stated, smirking evilly at Draco. He gulped and sighed silently, then sat down. He managed a smile back at his father, being as subtle as possible.

The house elf, Wella, approached them with their dinner and some wine, which was normally only allowed for Draco on special occasions.

Lucius poured him a glass taking him by surprise.

"A-are you sure?" He asked, more satisfied than frightened.

"You're a young man now, Draco, feel free."

Suddenly the usual alcohol binges he'd have at school with Filch didn't seem so rebellious now, now that his father was letting him drink.

Lucius sipped his wine, then cleared his throat and asked Draco his first question.

"How has your year been so far?"

"Alright."

"Alright? You normally have a more extensive response than that. Are you sure things are working out for you?"

"Uh…oh yeah, they're fine." He replied, lying.

"Good then. Now we should do that discussing about the Dark Lord's plans and all."

This made Draco quiver. He honestly had no loyalty in Voldemort at all, and he was only doing his biddings for his father, who obviously wouldn't have fancied him not doing so anyway.

"Right, then."

….

After their hour long chat about all of the current obstacles and challenges that were to be completed by the Dark Lord had been covered, Draco was seriously ready to go to bed, not that he was tired, just sick of all the Voldemort plans.

He stood up and let out a fake yawn and began to walk off, only to be stopped by his father.

"Hold tight, Draco, we have some more discussing to do."

He rolled his eyes, only doing so since he was turned away from his father, of course he'd never do such a thing while looking his way, he would really get a hasty punishment if that were to occur.

"But father…"

"Hush, Draco. Now take a seat. We are done discussing the Dark Lord; I have something else in mind."

Slight relief struck him, and he sat back down.

"You're mother recently had a talk with Miss Parkinson's mother, and you know that they have a strong acquaintance, and so the usual Holiday party will be held here in a few days. There will be some other guests as well, particularly some of Voldemort's followers. Your mother recommended that you escort Pansy, and perhaps have a dance with her, but nothing more than that, of course."

Draco didn't know how to reply. He and Pansy had gotten in a fight a couple weeks earlier, and they had spilt. He didn't really care for her much anymore anyway. He decided to tell the truth, of course excluding the information on his resentful crush on the mudblood.

"W-well father, you see the thing is…"

Lucius' eyes narrowed in concern, making Draco choose his words even more carefully than planned.

"Pansy and I are not together anymore…we had a fight…"

"Is that so? Tell me son, was did you two quarrel over? You bonded greatly over the summer; I bit too well in fact."

"Well, I don't know exactly…you know, it just happened."

"Hmm…well alright then. I actually expected you two to last. It was almost as if you were…soul mates. Ah, it doesn't matter, it's not like a young man of your age is going to take a liking to the term 'soul mates' anyhow."

Draco returned a small smile, agreeing with his father. He was too young for full on commitment.