Disclaimer: All characters are copyright to J.K. Rowling

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Draco strolled up the stairs to his room. He loved the house when it was like this, peaceful. Both his parents with out, his mother was shopping and his father was probably flying round with a mask on his face. Draco didn't care where he was as long as he was nowhere near him. His father, not that he was much of one, was a power hungry man with a warped mind, who didn't really care about him at all. Draco just wished he would leave him alone. He was always pushing him, all the time. If he didn't please him, then he got a beating. His mother did nothing about it, because she herself was too scared, but she did come and see him when his father wasn't there. Some family he had.

Draco entered his room and closed the door behind him. He turned on his stereo and turned it up as loud as he wanted. It didn't matter how loud he played it, there was a charm on the room that made it sound proof. Much to his relief, he doubted his father would approve of muggle music. It would just be another reason, to beat him and tell him how disappointed he was in him.

That's what Draco hated about summer holidays. He had to come home to his house and listen to his father criticise his faults, 'A mudblood is smarter than you'. Well it wasn't his fault all the teacher's favoured Granger was it? Except for potions, which he always did well in, but that wasn't good enough for his father. And then of course there was perfect Potter, who everyone liked. He'd stopped complaining about Potter being better then him, because it bored his father to listen to him go on.

And now just to make things better for him, the dark lord himself had risen again. Everyone thought he was happy about, but he wasn't really. It only meant that his father would expect more of him now. He would be made to take more of an interest in dark arts and god knows what else his father would have him doing. Probably watching the attacks they made on muggles. Not exactly his idea of fun, he'd probably be sick. Also, it meant that he might be expected to become a death eater sometime soon, and he didn't want to become one. He would be damned if he became like his father.

It was times like this when Draco realised how lonely he really was. He had no one to talk to about his problems, nobody who understood him. He was actually missing Hogwarts. At least in Hogwarts he was sure of himself. He swaggered around as if he had it all, which he didn't, but nobody knew that. He teased the gryffindors; particularly Potter and co. and he had his housemates around him. Not to mention he was away from his father. That was something at least.

Draco was shaken out of his thoughts by noise's coming from downstairs. He turned his music down and listened. He was sure he'd heard someone downstairs. He opened his door and peered out.

"Draco."

Draco's eyes widened, his father was home.

"Yes, father." He called back.

"Come here, boy. I have a surprise for you." Lucius Malfoy called up the stairs.

Draco sighed. He didn't really want to go, but if he didn't go down himself his father would drag him down anyway. Leaving his room, he made his way down the stairs to his father, who was smirking at him, a mad glint in his eye.

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