Chapter 1

Lost

Malfoy Manor, Draco's bedroom.

Monday, July 30 th 2004, 5 o'clock am

Draco feels the sting of a slap and wakes with a jump, his fathers face looming over his own.

''Wake up boy. Don't you dare make me late.'' Lucius spats grumpily.

Draco sits up groggily and stares at his father's retreating back. He grumbles to himself and swings his legs over the side of his bed, slipping them into a pair of acid green slippers and grabbing the matching robe from his bedpost. Draco walks over to his wardrobe and pulls it open. He would be joining his father at the Ministry until about 8 o'clock, at which time he would leave for a small wizard village just outside of Paris called Alle'e de Sorcier to buy his school things. He knows the weather in England would be warm but Paris had been having an early chill. Draco pulls an emerald green muscle shirt out of his drawer and a pair of loose black slacks from the wardrobe. He slips out of his robe and into his clothes before pulling on a pair of dragon-hide boots and slipping on a black belt to finish his look. He appraises his image in the full length mirror, running a comb through his hair and using a holding spell to keep it in place. He smirks at his image and grabs his pack from the table. He pulls out his money purse for a moment. It only holds about 300 galleons but he stuffs it into his bag anyway.

''That will just have to do...'' Draco sighs with a slight smirk. He swings his cloak over his shoulders, settling the bag strap across his chest beneath it. He walks down to a quick breakfast with his mother and father.

In the breakfast nook, Draco found his mother and father sitting silently across from each other. Draco slides in next to his mother and kisses her lightly on her bony cheek. Narcissa Malfoy had never been particularly affectionate with her son but she showed her love in different ways. The little things that she does, sending him sweets for the holidays and straitening his hair and clothing... Draco knows that his mother loves him, but the tyranny of his father keeps her from showing it.

'' 'Morning mother.''

''Good morning Draco. I trust that you will behave today.'' Narcissa's comment is more of a command than a question and Draco smiles a rare and proper smile at his mother.

''Of course! I wouldn't dream of doing anything to the contrary.'' Draco says cheekily smiling when Narcissa snorts into her morning tea. Lucius looks up with a dangerous gleam in his eye causing Narcissa to turns her eyes down and sips her tea silently again. Draco glares at his father for stopping his mother's rare mirth.

''Of course Draco will behave today. He must always uphold the family name. I will not allow it to become tarnished with your... escapades, Draco.'' Draco grins darkly at his father.

''Of course not father. That is your job.'' Draco says, sneering at his father.

Draco had always hated hearing his mother cry while his father was out at night. When he was little she would just tell him that he was working late and that she missed him... but at about 11 years old, Draco figured out what his father was really doing when he brought one of his girls home with him. Draco's mother had been positively crushed and she had yelled. Narcissa almost never yelled but when Lucius had come home that night she had fumed until Draco was sure that she would explode. That had been the first time he had seen his father hit her. Draco could still remember her sobbing on the floor. Right now Draco is staring at the same face full of danger that he had seen that night, and so many nights since then.

''You'd do well to watch your mouth... son.'' Draco glares hard at his father and pushes his plate away.

''I've lost my apatite. I'll see you in your office father.'' Draco strides from the nook and floos from the sitting room fireplace.

Draco's main job in his father's office is to sit and look pretty until someone comes looking for his father. His father works in the educational floor, being on the school board of governors and all. He had pretty much been running things around there until Draco showed up. Draco could often answer any questions that were put to him, tho not everyone wanted to talk to him about their questions.

Draco strides into his father's office after dusting himself off and passing through the many security measures that had recently been put up. Once Dumbledor had convinced Cornelius Fudge two years ago that Voldemort had indeed been resurrected, he seemed to think that he was personally in danger. Fudge had quadrupled the security around the ministry headquarters but people like Lucius Malfoy were still getting in. The dementors had been taken from azkaban and replaced with Aurours and the raids had increased. After the incident at the department of mysteries, Lucius had been in prison for a short time but had somehow managed to ferret his way out in a little over a year. The time there had made him even harder and more sinister than before.

Draco steps out onto his father's floor and smirks around the room. A new secretary is sitting by the door to his father's office, and is now staring at Draco with doe eyes and a slightly parted mouth, her eyes roaming over his body. Draco had been expecting this from girls after this summer and he smirks at her, straitening his posture and striding into his father's private office. He flops down in the large chair and kicks his legs up on the desk with his hands behind his head. He had grown up quite a bit over the summer. He had finally reached a towering 6' 4'' and his once weak chest had now grown wide and strong thanks to his Quidditch training over the summer. His arms now ripple with strength and his back is riddled with strong muscles as well. His once slightly pudgy stomach had been harder to contend with but he had finally whittled it down and it had hardened into a nice six-pack. All in all Draco was proud of his looks.

Two hours later, Lucius finds Draco in nearly the same position.

Draco had been eying the new secretary as she smiled cheekily at him. He had even talked to her for a moment in his sheer boredom. The girl was 23 and had just gotten out of law school. Draco had neglected telling her his age, only that he was Lucius's son. She had made a comment about certain 'family traits' that she was sure he had inherited and Draco had immediately been turned off by her. She was shagging his father. Of course. How else could a ditz like her be in such a lofty position. Draco didn't want her but he was enjoying playing with her mind. His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by a dark set of robes in the doorway. Draco raises his eyes to his fathers face and scowls.

''Its time for you to leave. I have a meeting in here in five minuets. Be gone by then.'' Lucius demands, his voice laced with threats as he speaks to his son, obviously still cross about earlier that morning. Draco stands from his father's chair and strides from the room. Lucius grips his arm as he brushes past. ''Be home by 8 o'clock, Draco. We need to... have words.''

Draco sneers and yanks his arm from the man's grasp. As he passes the secretary, Draco runs his long, lean fingers across her throat, sending shivers down her spine and causing little goosebumps to rise on her skin. Draco smirks to himself and continues to the cloak rack at the entrance of the office.


Draco meanders regally down the main street of Alle'e de Sorcier, pausing at some shops and passing others, buying only the finest robes and supplies and spending nearly all of his Galleons. By the end of the day, Draco had made his usual rounds of the town and has now decided to roam the residential area before heading to la Cafe de Sorcier for dinner.

His first time in the residential area is turning out dreadfully.

He had been watching the families in their homes for nearly half an hour now, watching their children play and parents exchange various signs of affection, knowing his family would never be like that.

In a moment of thought, Draco notices a little girl and boy go dashing by him. He watches as the little girl trips on a loose stone and goes flying into the dirt. He watches as she rolls on impact and stops, sitting up in a bit of a daze and gazing down at her knee. The blood from the scrape quickly mixes with the dirt in the wound and Draco nearly rushes to her side as a single tear spills from her eye but he stops when the girls mother dashes past him and begins grouching at the children in French. He munches on a bit of French candy and decides abruptly to go eat before he lost his appetite.

Once he is back in the business area of the tiny town, he feels much better. He sits down in the little Cafe' and opens his menu trying to decide on his meal. When the waitress approaches him he is ready with his choice.

''I want the Grilled fish with lemon and poppy... And I'll pay extra if you put something Alcoholic over it. Also, bring me a couple shots of vodka in a pint or two of butter beer.'' The plump little waitress walks away and Draco is left in peace for a few moments. A plate of food and a tall mug appears in front of Draco and he begins eating. At first he tastes his food with an aristocratic air but soon gives it up to a more common eating pattern. He scarfs down his food, completely oblivious to the twinkling eyes that are watching him from a dark corner across the small Cafe'.


At 8 o'clock pm sharp, Draco steps into the fireplace in the little French cafe' and steps out into the sitting room of Malfoy manor. His father is sitting in a wing-chair directly in front of the fire. He sneers as Draco dusts himself and sets his luggage to the side.

''Father.'' Draco greets, ignoring the house elves as they take his trunk away.

''Draco. I trust you have finished your school shopping?'' Lucius asks with false sincerity.

''Your trust is not misplaced.''

''I hope not.'' Lucius purrs, standing from his chair and pacing over to his son before draping his arm across his shoulders in a very annoying way. ''I wish to speak to you about your upcoming birthday, Draco, and what it will mean.'' Draco snorts and rolls his eyes as his father leads him down the hallway of Malfoy Manor. ''As you know, my master is quite interested in you Draco. In October he will be expecting you to receive the mark...''

Draco pushes his fathers arm off in disgust and turns to glare at him. He quickly loses his temper.

''Father! I've told you already, I refuse to be a simpering servant to some... thing that is barely half human! I will not take the mark.'' Draco watches as his father's face contorts in rage... here it comes...

''HOW DARE YOU!!!'' Draco feels himself lifted from the ground and slammed against the stone corridor wall. ''It looks like I'll have to teach you another lesson then.'' Lucius allows his son to drop to the floor before he starts kicking him. Draco feels a steel toed boot connect with his jaw, his ribs, stomach, legs, arms, and finally with his temple. The world dives and Draco looses consciousness.

Lucius drags his dazed son down to the underbelly of Malfoy manor ready to string him up for another lesson in the consequences of denying Lucius Malfoy.


In the dank dungeons of Malfoy manor, Draco swims back to consciousness. His arms are tied by thick ropes from the ceiling and he has been striped of all his clothing except his undershorts. He looks up and sees his father staring at him. Draco could feel his bruises throbbing all over his body and he shuts his eyes against his pounding head. He attempts to open his mouth but his body refuses to comply. Damn bastard broke my jaw... Lucius stands and uncoils a long whip from his lap. He pulls his wand out and mutters an incantation to the ceiling. The ropes that had been holding him up slowly reach toward him, twining themselves around his arms like snakes. With a final flick of Lucius's wand, Draco feels metal barbs thrust themselves deep into his arms, and the ropes tighten. Lucius grins.

''Good to see you awake... son. Torture is much more satisfying when your victim is awake.'' Lucius sneers and flicks his whip, administering the first blow. Draco's eyes roll back but he doesn't cry out. He would never give his father the satisfaction.


Four hours later

Lucius Malfoy stands panting next to his son's hanging body. The boy had not cried out once. He had used, not only his favorite whip, but every pain curse that he knew... and being a death eater... well, he knows enough of them. He looks at his son's glazed eyes and throws the whip down.

''I'll be back at dawn. If you are still alive by then we will see what your answer is.''

Draco barely registers the words and he watches through glazed eyes as his father strides from the room. His mind keeps hazing over as he hangs from the ceiling, the air being crushed from his chest as his arms no longer agree to support him. Draco can tell that he would never live till dawn in here. He racks his brain for any thought that may help him free himself. He mentally searches his clothing, which his father had left on the chair a short distance away. Nothing in his slacks nothing in his bag... His thoughts center on a secret pocket of his midnight blue cloak. It would be dangerous... but he has no choice. Draco opens his eyes and locks his eyes on the chair. His cloak rests across the back of it.

Draco squeezes his eyes shut and begins swinging in his ropes, the iron nails digging against his bones with every swing. He reaches his legs out and manages to catch the chair with his feet. His body swings back again and he drags the chair underneath him. He stands on the soft cushion and allows his chest and arms a rest. He looks at his cloak again. Now how to get it to his hands. Draco pauses for a moment before tucking his feet under it and contorting his body up until the cloak meets his nearly numb hand. He clasps it as tight as he can and allows his feet to drop to the chair again. I knew all the dexterity from Quidditch would come in handy for something.

Draco begins twisting the fabric in his hand, searching for the hidden pocket. His fingers meet a hard lump and he breaths a choked sigh of relief. He pulls the bottle out and allows the cloak to fall again, his other hand still hanging limp in its rope-and-nail shackles. He uncorks the bottle and allows a drop to fall on the rope. His hand slips and he feels some splash down his arm, filling the air with the smell of burning flesh. Draco grimaces in pain. The acid eats through his first bond and his arm falls to his side, yanking the other painfully as his body slumps. Draco feels something in his shoulder jerk and he suddenly loses feeling from his shoulder to his finger tips. He squeezes his eyes shut again. That cant be good... Draco reaches up and burns away his last restraint, falling off the chair and to the floor in a bloody heap. He still cant feel his arm but he lifts himself and struggles into his clothing. He knows his father would know if he used magic in the manor so he leaves his wand in the bottom of his bag. He slips his bag across his chest and onto his least injured shoulder, wincing as the straps hit the violent cuts that now riddle his body. He pulls on his cloak and makes his way as silently as possible out of the dungeons and to the closest fire place... which happens to be in the huge kitchens. As he walks in, all the house elves stop and stare at him. One of them rushes over and begins to speak but Draco slaps the elf to keep it quiet. He hate being mean to them but he could barely talk from pain and exhaustion at the moment and he needed silence. His regret shows in his eyes and he places a finger to lips for silence. He glares around the room and all the house elves nod to him. He limps over to the fireplace and throws a small pinch of floo powder from his bag on the fire. He struggles to open his mouth but the only thing that comes out is mumbling. None the less, he feels himself begin to spin.

Draco falls to the ground as soon as the spinning stops. He keeps his eyes shut but hears a woman's gasp and a mans voice in his ears.

''Oy! who the hell are you?!''

Draco doesn't answer. He just struggles to his feet dizzily and dashes from the house and out into the countryside. After hours and hours of running blindly, Draco looks up at a rickety old house on the hill in front of him. He has never seen the house before but he prays that whoever lives there will help him...