[A/N: Revised Chpt.1. It came to my attention that the paragraphs got
screwed up getting uploaded over onto Fanfiction.net, so I changed it. Some
of the paragraphs, though slightly changed, could not be modified. Hope
this made everyone's viewing a little more easier. =) Enjoy.]
pIt had been days, weeks, perhaps even a couple of months since Draco Malfoy had set foot on the Hogwarts grounds. But now, the not-so-young blonde's time at the Manor was nearing to an end, and he couldn't be happier.
pUndergoing endless hours of torment and abuse from his father, whom no one dared question, it was finally time to leave and cover it with a façade, only those subtle enough could ever even remotely hint at.
pPacking-no, shoving-the last of his books into his large trunk, with a huge emblem 'DM' in gold lettering on the side, he shut his trunk, and took a glance around the room. The room which father had administered punishments for no reason, for which he said, needed to make Draco a Malfoy. Numerous signs of this occurrence had been completely wiped from the room, leaving only the sign of a very good house elf. The room which, after the punishments had been given, Narcissa rushed in and comforted her beaten and bloodied son. He had hastily remembered his mother's soft, caressing touch to his swollen skin, and how he had collapsed into her arms, man enough not to cry. Yet his mother did nothing, because she equally had taken the abuse, and there was no stopping Lucius when he was on the warpath. Constant reminder of the promise she had made by saying her vows. How she had brushed his untamed silvery blonde hair, repeating the patronizing words 'Things will get better.' But how could things get better if everything was constantly at it's worse?
pOf course, no one except him and his mother know about the treatment they got. The house elves, whenever they suspected something, were put under a ruthless memory charm. Draco subconsciously bit his lip and balled his hands into fists, getting into another fury about what his father does. But of course, he would never do anything about it. 'No.' he told himself quietly, for he knew the answer. '. That would only make things worse.' Chuckling slightly, he gritted his teeth. How could things get worse? Would he be killed? 'No.' he told himself again. '.That would mean something would get better.' His father had no remorse for his only heir, and if anything happened to Draco, which Draco suspected was going to happen, he would only impregnate Narcissa, against her will, again. If he even thought about doing-
pHis trail of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by a swift knocking on his door. Too hard to be that of his mothers, and too gentle to be that of his fathers, he pondered, rushing over to the brass doorknob to open it. "Master Malfoy." The downtrodden house elf said, in a cracking voice, due to the effects of aging. "Your father has requested your presence downstairs. It is almost time to leave." Draco raised his eyebrows slightly, a trademark of the Slytherin, then pompously nodded, exiting the room, assuming the elf would take his bags and such. Cascading down the stone staircase, knowing exactly where he was expected, he tried his best to clear his recent thoughts, for his father knew exactly what he was thinking, for some strange reason. Entering the vast Dining Hall, his father was sitting at the head of the table, while Narcissa was sitting several seats down from him, though no visitors were at hand. This was not a good sign. He took a seat next to his mother, instead of by his father. Sitting next to his father would result in punishment, he had known from first hand experience. But instead of receiving a harsh glare from his father, he received a deceiving warm smile. "Draco, my son, my heir, please. Take a seat next to me." Definitely not a good sign, Draco thought to himself. "Yes father." He obeyed, shooting a nervous glance to his mother, who was, also taken aback by Lucius' sudden kindness. Pulling out a seat diagonal from his father, he looked at the large grandfather clock, directly across from Draco, and grimaced. Any more wasted time, and he might miss the Hogwarts Express. But he didn't dare question his father about his doing. Just remained quiet, as always.
pBut his father had an unusual sly smile on face, the kind he had on when he was devising a plan.
p "Draco." His father began. His tone was unusually kind, and it was apparent he had a lot on his mind. "You're almost of-age now, and I believe it's time that you had begun to take on some.responsibilities."
p "Responsibilities, father?" He muttered, trying to keep his tone unwavering. He had wanted to sound as dignified and calm as ever, hoping his father wouldn't catch his nervous voice.
p "Yes." His father responded, obviously unfazed of his son's naivete. "Voldermort and I had been discussing your.importance to the Dark side, and we have decided, that it's time for you to start carrying out tasks." Draco grimaced. "Y-yes father. I accept, but we really should get-" Draco begun to start, glancing at the time again. "SILENCE!" His father bellowed, obviously very teed off that Draco DARE change the subject on Lucius Malfoy, right-hand man to Voldermort, the greatest evil being that ever lived. His father administered a swift blow to the head with his snakehead cane, striking from its dormant state beside Lucius' side. Draco knew not to flinch. Not to recoil. Not to show pain. But a rather large welt was forming on the side of his head. "Now, Draco. I'm not at all sorry for doing that, but I'm surprised you haven't learned discipline over the summer." His father nodded his head. "But it was very coy of you to notice that I was over-extending my invitation. On a later date, then, we will discuss. For now, it's off to send you to that cursed school." He said, rising from the table. Draco and Narcissa quickly followed suit behind him, walking out of the Dining Hall's door and into the Main Hall, where guests were greeted, and son's departures were had. "I will send an owl for our next meeting." Lucius' stated, instead of a goodbye, and stalked off. 'Up the stairs to his study, perhaps.' Draco thought to himself, looking with keen eyes to his mother. "Goodbye, Draco." She breathed, embracing her only son tightly. "Owl me, if anything happens." Of course, this was an empty promise on both of their behalves, for if anything, anything at all came addressed to Narcissa, it was quickly intercepted by Lucius, who read it and ripped it up. But still, not to dampen his mother's spirits, he nodded, then went out to the grounds of the Manor, following a rather short house elf to the car. Laying down in the back seat, he bleakly stared up at the ceiling, as the car pulled out of the long cascading driveway. The ride to the station would be a short one, but he was anticipating it. He was even anticipating seeing that stupid Potter boy. Especially, he thought, that stupid Potter boy.
pThe station had begun to come into view, and soon enough, the driver had pulled up near the ticket booth. Draco left suddenly, without a word of thanks. He pushed his cart, which had been made up by the house elf that escorted him out of the house, and ran into the barrier. The train was making its last boarding calls. He quickly boarded, looking for an empty compartment of which he could occupy in peace. Luckily, there was one towards the back several first years were enjoying to themselves, which the old Engorgio charm to their noses could fix. Peace and quiet. He was enjoying being out from the house already, but his thoughts kept drifting back to his mother. How would she be safe? His father would never kill her, being the only one who was stupid enough to marry the greasy-haired git. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he had the feeling he was being watched.or stalked. He moved over closer to the window, and now all he wanted to be was off of the train. A loud, oaf-like banging was heard outside the door, and for a second he was sure it was his father. Stirring greatly in his seat, he balled his fists again, so much that his nails were digging into the flesh on his skin, then turned towards the door. It slid open, without much hesitation to reveal the staggering figures of Crabbe and Goyle. "Idiots." He murmured under his breath, watching stupid grins come onto their faces. "Draco!" Goyle started, stomping in and taking a seat opposite of him. "We were looking all over the train for you! We thought you weren't coming this year!" Both Crabbe and Goyle let out a very large guffawing laughter. "Har har har." Draco imitated, in his drawling, sarcastic speech, obviously not amused. "Why don't you two gits go and make yourselves useful, and find me something to eat?" All Draco wanted was them out of his compartment. All he wanted was peace and quiet. All he wanted was-"Aye aye, boss!" Replied Crabbe, and the two shuffled out of the cabin. 'Alohamora.' Draco muttered, and the cabin door was locked. Of course, this was against school rules, but he really didn't care right now. Curling up in a little ball, feeling quite uneasy, he tried his best to pass to sleep, but sleep didn't come easily for him. Not now. Not ever.
p [Beg. Flashback]"Daddy!" A much, much younger version of Draco Malfoy ran up to his aging father, who also looked drastically younger. His father, no longer having the evil glint in his eye, or the hatred in his voice, actually smiled. He scooped his son up into his arms, and beamed down on him. "Great catch, son!" Lucius said to his son, and ruffled Draco's hair slightly. An over-sized snitch was gripped in Draco's 5-year- old hand, and he was holding onto it. It was obvious that the snitch was made for younger children. Shifting in his lap, Draco looked up at his father. Lucius looked down on him, still smiling. His grip on Draco tightened. Suddenly, a spark of fire gleamed in Lucius Malfoy's eyes, it burned like cold fire, like warm-hot hate. "D-d-daddy! You're hurting me!" The little Draco yelped, struggling to break free of his father's grip. "Daddy! Stop! Please!" But the malice in his eyes only grew, until finally Draco was reduced to tears. His father's grip loosened, but his smile stayed put. [End Flashback]
pDraco darted awake on the train. It had stopped, and Hagrid was calling all first years to follow him. He got up and exited, passing by all of the compartments. The dream was frighteningly real, and he suspected it was a memory he wouldn't forget. Shaking his head, he peeked into the one closest to the front of the train. Of course, Potter, Weasley and Granger were in there, all having a grand old time. As he passed by, they all seemed to give him a simultaneous glare, but Harry decided not to. He just sat there and stared at him. 'Weird.' thought Draco, whose usual hatred for Harry had been misplaced. He swallowed roughly, and directed his attention ahead of him, exiting the train and onto the platform. He still could not shake that feeling that he was being ultimately watched.
pAs he headed back from the feast, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He shifted around, to see who was behind him, then, realizing no one was there, continued on his way. It had been a fairly uneventful feast, the usual. 6th year, he had heard, was always boring. The corridor branching from the potions dungeons was getting farther and farther away, and Draco wasn't sure how much longer he could walk. Finally approaching the blank wall, he attempts to walk into the wall that will lead him into the Common Room-his salvation. He walked into the wall-and hit his head, with a sickening thud. "Bloody hell." He mutters to himself, trying to walk into it again, to no avail. "BLOODY HELL! WHAT IN MERLINS NAME IS WRONG WITH THIS BLOODY WALL!" He cries out in defeat. Kicking, and punching the wall in agony, the Bloody Baron flies out, looking at the young Malfoy curiously. "Master Malfoy." He begins. "Is there something you wish to accomplish by doing this?" Draco looked up at him stubbornly. "My own Common Room wont even let me in." He muttered softly. The Baron let out a chuckle, then blinked. "Master Malfoy, the Common Room entrance is down that corridor." And pointed a ghostly finger in the other direction. "Uh.thanks Baron." He said, starting off in the other direction, and entering the correct wall with ease. The common room was mostly vacant, except for a few first years discussing with one another about their first days. He took a seat in an empty leather chair, and curled up, trying not to replicate too girly of a pose. Sleep came easy for him that night, it had been a long and tiring day.
p [Beg. Flashback]"YOU WON'T HURT HIM AGAIN!" Narcissa's voice screeched through the entire mansion. "Woman, if you resist, you'll get in the way of my plans. I'm training him." Lucius' voice was very calm and collected, though the fury in his eyes was rising. "LUCIUS! YOURE HURTING HIM! INFLICTING PAIN!" Narcissa's voice was just the opposite, and the fury was being expressed in her speech. Draco quietly crept out of bed, and watched through the bars on his staircase. Many bruises, which he was not used to, were grouping on his face, from earlier that day. It had been the first time his father struck him for no reason, and his mother had gotten quite upset over it. "You will lower your voice to me, woman!" Lucius said, and struck Narcissa, who let out a defeated yelp and fell to the floor. "Mommy!" Draco yelled, standing up against the bars. Lucius, too angry to notice Draco's yells, began to kick Narcissa violently in the ribs, until she was reduced to a crying heap. She looked up at Draco, and mouthed 'Go back to bed' through bleeding lips. 'Everything is okay.' She mouthed. 'Everything is okay.' She mouthed again. [End Flashback]
pDraco shot up from the chair, in a bout of cold sweat. The Common Room was long emptied, and very dark. It had also been very chilly. Draco tried his best to shake the images-the memories-the dreams he had of his childhood out of his head, but he kept hearing his voice-his mothers voice- his father's voice, and his fathers merciless hand swooping down on his mother, again and again and again.
pHe tried to shake the feeling of guilt of leaving his mother home, but it was no use. Getting up slowly from the frigid leather seat, he dashed up to his dorm, not liking the vagueness of the dark. He felt around the wooden door to his room for the brass doorknob, and pressed it open slowly. Moans and such were coming from the next bed over. 'Oh great.' He thought to himself. 'I have to share a room with Crabbe and Goyle again.' But the two seemed unfazed at his entrance, and went back to doing what they were before he entered. Draco lay sleepily on the bed. Maybe it was from Crabbe and Goyle snogging the next bed over. Maybe it was the fact that his father would force him into the Dark Arts if it was necessary. Or maybe it was that his mother was at home, getting beaten just around this time. Whatever it was, Draco couldn't fall asleep that night.
pIt was early morning, and Draco, sleepy eyed and moody was sitting in between his two croonies, eating his porridge. The slop tasted cold and tasteless in his mouth, and he was looking rather glum. Signs of a sleep- less night were making themselves apparent underneath his eyes, in the shape of gray circles. Nothing unusual was happening in the Great Hall as-
pOwls of all shapes and sizes began to swoop down from the ceiling, with parcels and packages and parchments galore. A raven black owl with emerald eyes took the sky, and everyone's attention. 'Oh no.' Draco murmured to himself, watching it's route flying directly towards him. Its dark green eyes scanned him with an evil grin, and landed on the rim of his bowl, letting out a cackle, rather than a 'hoot'. Draco fumbled with the small, black parchment tied to its leg. It was, no doubt, from his father, and so important that it was enchanted to only be visible when Draco was alone. But also tied onto it's leg was an object Draco recognized instantly-a portkey. It was shaped like a normal clothespin, but Draco knew that his father wanted him home-soon. Making his exit as subtle as possible-and not doing a very good job at it, for the black owl now began to hoot furiously, needing something for the ride back. Draco let out an exasperated sigh and gave it the remnants of an English Muffin, which had been lying on Goyle's idle plate (He had said that him and Crabbe were going on diets for each other. *eyeroll*). The owl, not very pleased, but happy enough to fly home to it's master, took off, making itself the spectacle of the Great Hall. Draco watched it fly off, then hurried down the corridor, and into the wall- the CORRECT wall, mind you-that would let him into the common room. Looking around at the few people in the Common Room, he dashed upstairs into his dorm, and locked the door. Carefully unfolding the note, he read it to himself silently-
pDraco- You'll find a portkey attached to this letter. Be at the manor at promptly 3 PM. -Lucius
pHis father did not even bother to sign it as 'father' or 'dad', just simply Lucius. Well, actually, it might be a little creepy if Lucius had signed a letter referring to the Dark Arts as 'Dad'. He sighed heavily and looked blankly at the door, which now Crabbe and Goyle were banging on, wondering what all the fuss was. 'It's going to be a long day.' Draco mumbled to himself, and unlocked the door.
pDraco fumbled with the portkey in his pocket, tracing his index finger along the outside of the clothespin. It had been in his pocket all day, and it was aching to be of use. Now, as the hour was getting closer, a humming aurora had begun to surround it. He straightened his robes, wearing his finest forest green one, with a snake branching up the breast pocket, on the other side 'DM' was initialed in gold stitching. Draco knew something was up, for his father to pull him out of school so cordially like this. Either that or he had gotten bored with beating up Narcissa, and needed a new punching bag. Whatever the reason, it made him very uneasy.
p Suddenly, the large grandfather clock that was in the room began to chime three times. The room began to swirl around him, very slowly at first, like a ride at an amusement park. But it quickly began to pick up pace, and pretty soon he felt he was going headfirst into a brick wall. Faster.faster-blackness. Draco opened his eyes, and his father and Voldermort were calmly, collectively sitting in front of him, casually talking. His father's eyes turned beady at the sight of him. "You're late." He hissed.
p "S-sorry, father." Draco replied, voice cracking. Voldermort had been incantated into the body of Phillip Zabini, a well-known and respected Death Eater. He was sitting, alongside Lucius, at the head of the table. Voldermort cleared his throat, to let him know he should pay respects to his elders. Draco clearly was startled.
p "Lord Voldermort. Sorry. Please forgive me." He went through the routine of rushing over to his Dark Lord, bowing his head, and kneeling on all fours, like some kind of animals. Voldermort merely chuckled at this act, patted Draco's back, and beckoned him up.
p "Sit, my child. You are forgiven." Voldermort replied a ghastly smile on face. He was up to something-the both of them, and Draco could tell. "My, my, he has gotten big, Lucius. A fine example of what it means to be Malfoy." Lucius grunted in retort, too afraid to disagree with his master in public, but later he would scold Draco for it. "Yes, master. He is growing up quite well. He should make an impressionable Death Eater." Lucius added, to please his master as well.
p "Excellent observation, but we are getting off topic." Draco looked at Voldermort, a nervous twitch in his eyes. He began to shift nervously in his seat. "T-topic?" Draco stuttered, his father's beady eyes glaring down at him. "Draco! How dare you insult Lord Voldermort like that! From now on you address both him and I as 'master'." Lucius sneered, preparing to thwack him with the cane, but was too far away. Voldermort merely nodded. "Yes, Draco. It is time that you started acting more.like a Malfoy." It was obvious that Lucius was clearly appalled at this saying, that his son, the heir for which he had been training for well over eleven years. But, Lucius was just a yes-man, so he had to agree with his master or face dire consequences. "Yes, master, I agree. Perhaps I must go through some more.rigorous training?" He suggested. Voldermort shook his head, but a sly smile crossed his face. "No, Lucius, I have a far better idea.lets say you.release him into my care. I think he could accelerate more, if he's with me." Lucius, had a steady expression on his face, like he just tasted milk left out for decades, but he pretended to be coughing to cover it up. "Why-" cough "yes, master-" cough cough "I agree with you 100%. Perhaps, maybe, we should start next summer?" He twisted his face up into a wreck, and pretended to be recovering. Draco sat, looking at the two deciding his fate. His face was contorted horribly into a cross between a pleasant smile and an appalling frown. "In y-your care, master?" He twitched terribly in his seat, giving awkward glances to his father. His father, of course, couldn't be any madder. Losing his best punching bag, and prized possession to show off? No, this time he was asking too much. This time, he was going to stand up. This time-"Oh, don't be silly, Lucius. Of course not over the summer! We shall start on Christmas break. I shall pull him out of Hogwarts, and give him proper 'schooling' at home. Yes, this is perfect." Voldermort clapped his hands together and strangely-ruffled Draco's hair. "It shall be the perfect schooling experience." Lucius stared at his son, almost amazed that he was going through with this without any contest. But he knew Draco knew better than to argue with Lord Voldermort, darkest being of all of Wizarding time. Lucius smiled at his son's discipline, and nodded his head. "Yes, master, it shall be over Christmas break. I will have his wardrobe shipped over to you." The thoughts of despair over losing his punching bag had left his blank, empty, blonde head, and now the new thoughts of getting Narcissa pregnant began to take their place. But instead of letting on, he smiled pompously, like a true Malfoy, not letting out what he's really feeling. "Draco, go tell your mother of your departure." Although it might be the last time you see her, boy. Lucius added sinisterly in his mind. Draco nodded solemnly, and rose from his seat, bowing to both Voldermort and Lucius unanimously. He walked out into the Main pavilion of the manor, where he found his mother, sitting on a stone bench by the enchanted garden. Narcissa was stroking the leaves of one plant, and was looking more dejected than ever. "M-mum?" It had been the first time he ever stuttered by his mother. "Draco! What are you doing home?" She pretended to be in mock surprise, but really the sly wife and mother had been listening to the whole conversation from outside the large oak doors. "I um.I am.I'm.Gods, mother, this is so hard to say." Every ounce of him wanted to embrace his mother, and have her soft caressing hands just rub his head, and say that everything will be okay again. Finally, Narcissa broke down and did embrace her son. "I know, Draco. I heard." She sobbed into his chest, and a few tears slid unnoticed down Draco's cheeks. He put his arms around her, and held his mother, not ever in a million years wanting to leave her. After sometime, his father appeared in the doorway leading out onto the pavilion. His face broke out in a crude frown, as he brought his cane violently on Draco's head. "Boy! No mushy stuff! And you're crying?!" He brought the cane down again, and glared. "Lets go." He muttered ripping Draco's arm off of his mother, dragging him off. For a man of Lucius' age, he was quite strong and powerful. "Mum!" He screamed, the first time he was pained to be away from his mother for years. "Mum! I love you!" He yelled again, being tottered off by Lucius. At a last attempt to be with his mother, his arms flailed out wildly, grabbing onto his mothers for a split second, then being ripped off, and carried on inside. "Boy." Lucius snarled. "One more move like that, and I'll have you killed."
pVoldermort was calmly standing by the front entrance, though he had no mind to go waltzing out of the front door. He was merely to apparate, whenever their little luncheon was finished. Rapping Draco on the head with his cane one final time, Lucius put it back by his side and led Draco towards Voldermort. "I'll see you during Christmas break." He chuckled evilly, and apparated out. Lucius scoffed, handed Draco a portkey (a compact disc) and headed back to his study.
pDraco looked hard at the portkey, tears were still dripping freely down his face. His mother was the closest friend he had ever had to comfort him, and now she would be gone. He had the urge to go and find her in the manor, but if his father found him, punishments would be had. He signed heavily, and intook the vast swirling that was now swallowing him whole. In a few seconds, he was in his dorm, standing inches away from his bed, tears still in eyes. Collapsing on his bed, he hugged his pillow tightly and cried spontaneously for the first time in his life, unafraid of who might see him and what they might say.
p-End Ch.1-
pIt had been days, weeks, perhaps even a couple of months since Draco Malfoy had set foot on the Hogwarts grounds. But now, the not-so-young blonde's time at the Manor was nearing to an end, and he couldn't be happier.
pUndergoing endless hours of torment and abuse from his father, whom no one dared question, it was finally time to leave and cover it with a façade, only those subtle enough could ever even remotely hint at.
pPacking-no, shoving-the last of his books into his large trunk, with a huge emblem 'DM' in gold lettering on the side, he shut his trunk, and took a glance around the room. The room which father had administered punishments for no reason, for which he said, needed to make Draco a Malfoy. Numerous signs of this occurrence had been completely wiped from the room, leaving only the sign of a very good house elf. The room which, after the punishments had been given, Narcissa rushed in and comforted her beaten and bloodied son. He had hastily remembered his mother's soft, caressing touch to his swollen skin, and how he had collapsed into her arms, man enough not to cry. Yet his mother did nothing, because she equally had taken the abuse, and there was no stopping Lucius when he was on the warpath. Constant reminder of the promise she had made by saying her vows. How she had brushed his untamed silvery blonde hair, repeating the patronizing words 'Things will get better.' But how could things get better if everything was constantly at it's worse?
pOf course, no one except him and his mother know about the treatment they got. The house elves, whenever they suspected something, were put under a ruthless memory charm. Draco subconsciously bit his lip and balled his hands into fists, getting into another fury about what his father does. But of course, he would never do anything about it. 'No.' he told himself quietly, for he knew the answer. '. That would only make things worse.' Chuckling slightly, he gritted his teeth. How could things get worse? Would he be killed? 'No.' he told himself again. '.That would mean something would get better.' His father had no remorse for his only heir, and if anything happened to Draco, which Draco suspected was going to happen, he would only impregnate Narcissa, against her will, again. If he even thought about doing-
pHis trail of thoughts was abruptly interrupted by a swift knocking on his door. Too hard to be that of his mothers, and too gentle to be that of his fathers, he pondered, rushing over to the brass doorknob to open it. "Master Malfoy." The downtrodden house elf said, in a cracking voice, due to the effects of aging. "Your father has requested your presence downstairs. It is almost time to leave." Draco raised his eyebrows slightly, a trademark of the Slytherin, then pompously nodded, exiting the room, assuming the elf would take his bags and such. Cascading down the stone staircase, knowing exactly where he was expected, he tried his best to clear his recent thoughts, for his father knew exactly what he was thinking, for some strange reason. Entering the vast Dining Hall, his father was sitting at the head of the table, while Narcissa was sitting several seats down from him, though no visitors were at hand. This was not a good sign. He took a seat next to his mother, instead of by his father. Sitting next to his father would result in punishment, he had known from first hand experience. But instead of receiving a harsh glare from his father, he received a deceiving warm smile. "Draco, my son, my heir, please. Take a seat next to me." Definitely not a good sign, Draco thought to himself. "Yes father." He obeyed, shooting a nervous glance to his mother, who was, also taken aback by Lucius' sudden kindness. Pulling out a seat diagonal from his father, he looked at the large grandfather clock, directly across from Draco, and grimaced. Any more wasted time, and he might miss the Hogwarts Express. But he didn't dare question his father about his doing. Just remained quiet, as always.
pBut his father had an unusual sly smile on face, the kind he had on when he was devising a plan.
p "Draco." His father began. His tone was unusually kind, and it was apparent he had a lot on his mind. "You're almost of-age now, and I believe it's time that you had begun to take on some.responsibilities."
p "Responsibilities, father?" He muttered, trying to keep his tone unwavering. He had wanted to sound as dignified and calm as ever, hoping his father wouldn't catch his nervous voice.
p "Yes." His father responded, obviously unfazed of his son's naivete. "Voldermort and I had been discussing your.importance to the Dark side, and we have decided, that it's time for you to start carrying out tasks." Draco grimaced. "Y-yes father. I accept, but we really should get-" Draco begun to start, glancing at the time again. "SILENCE!" His father bellowed, obviously very teed off that Draco DARE change the subject on Lucius Malfoy, right-hand man to Voldermort, the greatest evil being that ever lived. His father administered a swift blow to the head with his snakehead cane, striking from its dormant state beside Lucius' side. Draco knew not to flinch. Not to recoil. Not to show pain. But a rather large welt was forming on the side of his head. "Now, Draco. I'm not at all sorry for doing that, but I'm surprised you haven't learned discipline over the summer." His father nodded his head. "But it was very coy of you to notice that I was over-extending my invitation. On a later date, then, we will discuss. For now, it's off to send you to that cursed school." He said, rising from the table. Draco and Narcissa quickly followed suit behind him, walking out of the Dining Hall's door and into the Main Hall, where guests were greeted, and son's departures were had. "I will send an owl for our next meeting." Lucius' stated, instead of a goodbye, and stalked off. 'Up the stairs to his study, perhaps.' Draco thought to himself, looking with keen eyes to his mother. "Goodbye, Draco." She breathed, embracing her only son tightly. "Owl me, if anything happens." Of course, this was an empty promise on both of their behalves, for if anything, anything at all came addressed to Narcissa, it was quickly intercepted by Lucius, who read it and ripped it up. But still, not to dampen his mother's spirits, he nodded, then went out to the grounds of the Manor, following a rather short house elf to the car. Laying down in the back seat, he bleakly stared up at the ceiling, as the car pulled out of the long cascading driveway. The ride to the station would be a short one, but he was anticipating it. He was even anticipating seeing that stupid Potter boy. Especially, he thought, that stupid Potter boy.
pThe station had begun to come into view, and soon enough, the driver had pulled up near the ticket booth. Draco left suddenly, without a word of thanks. He pushed his cart, which had been made up by the house elf that escorted him out of the house, and ran into the barrier. The train was making its last boarding calls. He quickly boarded, looking for an empty compartment of which he could occupy in peace. Luckily, there was one towards the back several first years were enjoying to themselves, which the old Engorgio charm to their noses could fix. Peace and quiet. He was enjoying being out from the house already, but his thoughts kept drifting back to his mother. How would she be safe? His father would never kill her, being the only one who was stupid enough to marry the greasy-haired git. Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he had the feeling he was being watched.or stalked. He moved over closer to the window, and now all he wanted to be was off of the train. A loud, oaf-like banging was heard outside the door, and for a second he was sure it was his father. Stirring greatly in his seat, he balled his fists again, so much that his nails were digging into the flesh on his skin, then turned towards the door. It slid open, without much hesitation to reveal the staggering figures of Crabbe and Goyle. "Idiots." He murmured under his breath, watching stupid grins come onto their faces. "Draco!" Goyle started, stomping in and taking a seat opposite of him. "We were looking all over the train for you! We thought you weren't coming this year!" Both Crabbe and Goyle let out a very large guffawing laughter. "Har har har." Draco imitated, in his drawling, sarcastic speech, obviously not amused. "Why don't you two gits go and make yourselves useful, and find me something to eat?" All Draco wanted was them out of his compartment. All he wanted was peace and quiet. All he wanted was-"Aye aye, boss!" Replied Crabbe, and the two shuffled out of the cabin. 'Alohamora.' Draco muttered, and the cabin door was locked. Of course, this was against school rules, but he really didn't care right now. Curling up in a little ball, feeling quite uneasy, he tried his best to pass to sleep, but sleep didn't come easily for him. Not now. Not ever.
p [Beg. Flashback]"Daddy!" A much, much younger version of Draco Malfoy ran up to his aging father, who also looked drastically younger. His father, no longer having the evil glint in his eye, or the hatred in his voice, actually smiled. He scooped his son up into his arms, and beamed down on him. "Great catch, son!" Lucius said to his son, and ruffled Draco's hair slightly. An over-sized snitch was gripped in Draco's 5-year- old hand, and he was holding onto it. It was obvious that the snitch was made for younger children. Shifting in his lap, Draco looked up at his father. Lucius looked down on him, still smiling. His grip on Draco tightened. Suddenly, a spark of fire gleamed in Lucius Malfoy's eyes, it burned like cold fire, like warm-hot hate. "D-d-daddy! You're hurting me!" The little Draco yelped, struggling to break free of his father's grip. "Daddy! Stop! Please!" But the malice in his eyes only grew, until finally Draco was reduced to tears. His father's grip loosened, but his smile stayed put. [End Flashback]
pDraco darted awake on the train. It had stopped, and Hagrid was calling all first years to follow him. He got up and exited, passing by all of the compartments. The dream was frighteningly real, and he suspected it was a memory he wouldn't forget. Shaking his head, he peeked into the one closest to the front of the train. Of course, Potter, Weasley and Granger were in there, all having a grand old time. As he passed by, they all seemed to give him a simultaneous glare, but Harry decided not to. He just sat there and stared at him. 'Weird.' thought Draco, whose usual hatred for Harry had been misplaced. He swallowed roughly, and directed his attention ahead of him, exiting the train and onto the platform. He still could not shake that feeling that he was being ultimately watched.
pAs he headed back from the feast, the hairs on the back of his neck rose. He shifted around, to see who was behind him, then, realizing no one was there, continued on his way. It had been a fairly uneventful feast, the usual. 6th year, he had heard, was always boring. The corridor branching from the potions dungeons was getting farther and farther away, and Draco wasn't sure how much longer he could walk. Finally approaching the blank wall, he attempts to walk into the wall that will lead him into the Common Room-his salvation. He walked into the wall-and hit his head, with a sickening thud. "Bloody hell." He mutters to himself, trying to walk into it again, to no avail. "BLOODY HELL! WHAT IN MERLINS NAME IS WRONG WITH THIS BLOODY WALL!" He cries out in defeat. Kicking, and punching the wall in agony, the Bloody Baron flies out, looking at the young Malfoy curiously. "Master Malfoy." He begins. "Is there something you wish to accomplish by doing this?" Draco looked up at him stubbornly. "My own Common Room wont even let me in." He muttered softly. The Baron let out a chuckle, then blinked. "Master Malfoy, the Common Room entrance is down that corridor." And pointed a ghostly finger in the other direction. "Uh.thanks Baron." He said, starting off in the other direction, and entering the correct wall with ease. The common room was mostly vacant, except for a few first years discussing with one another about their first days. He took a seat in an empty leather chair, and curled up, trying not to replicate too girly of a pose. Sleep came easy for him that night, it had been a long and tiring day.
p [Beg. Flashback]"YOU WON'T HURT HIM AGAIN!" Narcissa's voice screeched through the entire mansion. "Woman, if you resist, you'll get in the way of my plans. I'm training him." Lucius' voice was very calm and collected, though the fury in his eyes was rising. "LUCIUS! YOURE HURTING HIM! INFLICTING PAIN!" Narcissa's voice was just the opposite, and the fury was being expressed in her speech. Draco quietly crept out of bed, and watched through the bars on his staircase. Many bruises, which he was not used to, were grouping on his face, from earlier that day. It had been the first time his father struck him for no reason, and his mother had gotten quite upset over it. "You will lower your voice to me, woman!" Lucius said, and struck Narcissa, who let out a defeated yelp and fell to the floor. "Mommy!" Draco yelled, standing up against the bars. Lucius, too angry to notice Draco's yells, began to kick Narcissa violently in the ribs, until she was reduced to a crying heap. She looked up at Draco, and mouthed 'Go back to bed' through bleeding lips. 'Everything is okay.' She mouthed. 'Everything is okay.' She mouthed again. [End Flashback]
pDraco shot up from the chair, in a bout of cold sweat. The Common Room was long emptied, and very dark. It had also been very chilly. Draco tried his best to shake the images-the memories-the dreams he had of his childhood out of his head, but he kept hearing his voice-his mothers voice- his father's voice, and his fathers merciless hand swooping down on his mother, again and again and again.
pHe tried to shake the feeling of guilt of leaving his mother home, but it was no use. Getting up slowly from the frigid leather seat, he dashed up to his dorm, not liking the vagueness of the dark. He felt around the wooden door to his room for the brass doorknob, and pressed it open slowly. Moans and such were coming from the next bed over. 'Oh great.' He thought to himself. 'I have to share a room with Crabbe and Goyle again.' But the two seemed unfazed at his entrance, and went back to doing what they were before he entered. Draco lay sleepily on the bed. Maybe it was from Crabbe and Goyle snogging the next bed over. Maybe it was the fact that his father would force him into the Dark Arts if it was necessary. Or maybe it was that his mother was at home, getting beaten just around this time. Whatever it was, Draco couldn't fall asleep that night.
pIt was early morning, and Draco, sleepy eyed and moody was sitting in between his two croonies, eating his porridge. The slop tasted cold and tasteless in his mouth, and he was looking rather glum. Signs of a sleep- less night were making themselves apparent underneath his eyes, in the shape of gray circles. Nothing unusual was happening in the Great Hall as-
pOwls of all shapes and sizes began to swoop down from the ceiling, with parcels and packages and parchments galore. A raven black owl with emerald eyes took the sky, and everyone's attention. 'Oh no.' Draco murmured to himself, watching it's route flying directly towards him. Its dark green eyes scanned him with an evil grin, and landed on the rim of his bowl, letting out a cackle, rather than a 'hoot'. Draco fumbled with the small, black parchment tied to its leg. It was, no doubt, from his father, and so important that it was enchanted to only be visible when Draco was alone. But also tied onto it's leg was an object Draco recognized instantly-a portkey. It was shaped like a normal clothespin, but Draco knew that his father wanted him home-soon. Making his exit as subtle as possible-and not doing a very good job at it, for the black owl now began to hoot furiously, needing something for the ride back. Draco let out an exasperated sigh and gave it the remnants of an English Muffin, which had been lying on Goyle's idle plate (He had said that him and Crabbe were going on diets for each other. *eyeroll*). The owl, not very pleased, but happy enough to fly home to it's master, took off, making itself the spectacle of the Great Hall. Draco watched it fly off, then hurried down the corridor, and into the wall- the CORRECT wall, mind you-that would let him into the common room. Looking around at the few people in the Common Room, he dashed upstairs into his dorm, and locked the door. Carefully unfolding the note, he read it to himself silently-
pDraco- You'll find a portkey attached to this letter. Be at the manor at promptly 3 PM. -Lucius
pHis father did not even bother to sign it as 'father' or 'dad', just simply Lucius. Well, actually, it might be a little creepy if Lucius had signed a letter referring to the Dark Arts as 'Dad'. He sighed heavily and looked blankly at the door, which now Crabbe and Goyle were banging on, wondering what all the fuss was. 'It's going to be a long day.' Draco mumbled to himself, and unlocked the door.
pDraco fumbled with the portkey in his pocket, tracing his index finger along the outside of the clothespin. It had been in his pocket all day, and it was aching to be of use. Now, as the hour was getting closer, a humming aurora had begun to surround it. He straightened his robes, wearing his finest forest green one, with a snake branching up the breast pocket, on the other side 'DM' was initialed in gold stitching. Draco knew something was up, for his father to pull him out of school so cordially like this. Either that or he had gotten bored with beating up Narcissa, and needed a new punching bag. Whatever the reason, it made him very uneasy.
p Suddenly, the large grandfather clock that was in the room began to chime three times. The room began to swirl around him, very slowly at first, like a ride at an amusement park. But it quickly began to pick up pace, and pretty soon he felt he was going headfirst into a brick wall. Faster.faster-blackness. Draco opened his eyes, and his father and Voldermort were calmly, collectively sitting in front of him, casually talking. His father's eyes turned beady at the sight of him. "You're late." He hissed.
p "S-sorry, father." Draco replied, voice cracking. Voldermort had been incantated into the body of Phillip Zabini, a well-known and respected Death Eater. He was sitting, alongside Lucius, at the head of the table. Voldermort cleared his throat, to let him know he should pay respects to his elders. Draco clearly was startled.
p "Lord Voldermort. Sorry. Please forgive me." He went through the routine of rushing over to his Dark Lord, bowing his head, and kneeling on all fours, like some kind of animals. Voldermort merely chuckled at this act, patted Draco's back, and beckoned him up.
p "Sit, my child. You are forgiven." Voldermort replied a ghastly smile on face. He was up to something-the both of them, and Draco could tell. "My, my, he has gotten big, Lucius. A fine example of what it means to be Malfoy." Lucius grunted in retort, too afraid to disagree with his master in public, but later he would scold Draco for it. "Yes, master. He is growing up quite well. He should make an impressionable Death Eater." Lucius added, to please his master as well.
p "Excellent observation, but we are getting off topic." Draco looked at Voldermort, a nervous twitch in his eyes. He began to shift nervously in his seat. "T-topic?" Draco stuttered, his father's beady eyes glaring down at him. "Draco! How dare you insult Lord Voldermort like that! From now on you address both him and I as 'master'." Lucius sneered, preparing to thwack him with the cane, but was too far away. Voldermort merely nodded. "Yes, Draco. It is time that you started acting more.like a Malfoy." It was obvious that Lucius was clearly appalled at this saying, that his son, the heir for which he had been training for well over eleven years. But, Lucius was just a yes-man, so he had to agree with his master or face dire consequences. "Yes, master, I agree. Perhaps I must go through some more.rigorous training?" He suggested. Voldermort shook his head, but a sly smile crossed his face. "No, Lucius, I have a far better idea.lets say you.release him into my care. I think he could accelerate more, if he's with me." Lucius, had a steady expression on his face, like he just tasted milk left out for decades, but he pretended to be coughing to cover it up. "Why-" cough "yes, master-" cough cough "I agree with you 100%. Perhaps, maybe, we should start next summer?" He twisted his face up into a wreck, and pretended to be recovering. Draco sat, looking at the two deciding his fate. His face was contorted horribly into a cross between a pleasant smile and an appalling frown. "In y-your care, master?" He twitched terribly in his seat, giving awkward glances to his father. His father, of course, couldn't be any madder. Losing his best punching bag, and prized possession to show off? No, this time he was asking too much. This time, he was going to stand up. This time-"Oh, don't be silly, Lucius. Of course not over the summer! We shall start on Christmas break. I shall pull him out of Hogwarts, and give him proper 'schooling' at home. Yes, this is perfect." Voldermort clapped his hands together and strangely-ruffled Draco's hair. "It shall be the perfect schooling experience." Lucius stared at his son, almost amazed that he was going through with this without any contest. But he knew Draco knew better than to argue with Lord Voldermort, darkest being of all of Wizarding time. Lucius smiled at his son's discipline, and nodded his head. "Yes, master, it shall be over Christmas break. I will have his wardrobe shipped over to you." The thoughts of despair over losing his punching bag had left his blank, empty, blonde head, and now the new thoughts of getting Narcissa pregnant began to take their place. But instead of letting on, he smiled pompously, like a true Malfoy, not letting out what he's really feeling. "Draco, go tell your mother of your departure." Although it might be the last time you see her, boy. Lucius added sinisterly in his mind. Draco nodded solemnly, and rose from his seat, bowing to both Voldermort and Lucius unanimously. He walked out into the Main pavilion of the manor, where he found his mother, sitting on a stone bench by the enchanted garden. Narcissa was stroking the leaves of one plant, and was looking more dejected than ever. "M-mum?" It had been the first time he ever stuttered by his mother. "Draco! What are you doing home?" She pretended to be in mock surprise, but really the sly wife and mother had been listening to the whole conversation from outside the large oak doors. "I um.I am.I'm.Gods, mother, this is so hard to say." Every ounce of him wanted to embrace his mother, and have her soft caressing hands just rub his head, and say that everything will be okay again. Finally, Narcissa broke down and did embrace her son. "I know, Draco. I heard." She sobbed into his chest, and a few tears slid unnoticed down Draco's cheeks. He put his arms around her, and held his mother, not ever in a million years wanting to leave her. After sometime, his father appeared in the doorway leading out onto the pavilion. His face broke out in a crude frown, as he brought his cane violently on Draco's head. "Boy! No mushy stuff! And you're crying?!" He brought the cane down again, and glared. "Lets go." He muttered ripping Draco's arm off of his mother, dragging him off. For a man of Lucius' age, he was quite strong and powerful. "Mum!" He screamed, the first time he was pained to be away from his mother for years. "Mum! I love you!" He yelled again, being tottered off by Lucius. At a last attempt to be with his mother, his arms flailed out wildly, grabbing onto his mothers for a split second, then being ripped off, and carried on inside. "Boy." Lucius snarled. "One more move like that, and I'll have you killed."
pVoldermort was calmly standing by the front entrance, though he had no mind to go waltzing out of the front door. He was merely to apparate, whenever their little luncheon was finished. Rapping Draco on the head with his cane one final time, Lucius put it back by his side and led Draco towards Voldermort. "I'll see you during Christmas break." He chuckled evilly, and apparated out. Lucius scoffed, handed Draco a portkey (a compact disc) and headed back to his study.
pDraco looked hard at the portkey, tears were still dripping freely down his face. His mother was the closest friend he had ever had to comfort him, and now she would be gone. He had the urge to go and find her in the manor, but if his father found him, punishments would be had. He signed heavily, and intook the vast swirling that was now swallowing him whole. In a few seconds, he was in his dorm, standing inches away from his bed, tears still in eyes. Collapsing on his bed, he hugged his pillow tightly and cried spontaneously for the first time in his life, unafraid of who might see him and what they might say.
p-End Ch.1-