Author: Lyra Skywalker

Title: Your Job To Believe

Genre: General / Angst

Disclaimer: Not mine; everything except the story line belong to the ever so brilliant J.K. Rowling.

Summary: "Draco, Do you remember the night you woke to find me standing over you? Do you know why I was there? I was going to kill you. Do you know why? No? Because I didn't want to condemn you to the same life I led."

Story – Your Job To Believe (Chapter 2- Older)

There were holes in Draco's memories, times when he would look back and not know what he had done previously. There were long periods of times when he would wake up one morning and not be able to recall the past few days, weeks even. But he had learnt not to question this; it was just another part of his life.

Draco pressed his nose against the cold glass window in his bedroom. The whole side field next to their manor was covered like a soft white blanket of fresh winter snow. It was winter…again…it always seemed to be winter. In fact, Draco liked winter…he liked the snow…no…he loved the snow.

"Draco, come…it's time for your lessons." It was his father, wasn't it? "Draco…it's time for your lessons." Again.
Draco didn't reply. He stared, mesmerised by the seemingly silver clouds that hovered above the roof of their manor.
"Draco. Come away from the window, it's time for your lessons."
Finally Draco turned around. He cocked his head to the side questioningly. Maybe he could get out of lessons today. He pointed outside, hoping for a distraction.
"Yes Draco, they're called clouds." His father replied in a sarcastic, but knowingly amused way. "Time for lessons."
"Do I have to? They're boring." Draco complained. His tone of voice was more of a whine, but Draco would never willingly admit that he would ever whine, because, as his father said, 'Malfoys' do not ever whine.'
Draco grudgingly went along. His father better be right that when he finally went to Hogwarts that all of this prior-education would pay off.
Draco was ten; he would be in Hogwarts in exactly 7 months.

Draco and Blaise discovered a new hobby the day after Draco's eleventh birthday. Quite usually, Draco and Blaise would reign terror on the manor and discover cruel and unusual was to bother the Malfoy butler 'Lorenz'. Or they would play Quidditch on their field, but ever since Lucius refused to buy his son the 'Nimbus 2000' after Draco had managed to break his previous broomstick, Draco was to busy sulking. Or Draco and Blaise would try and find ways on to the 'Left Wing Attic' that he was also forbidden to enter. He had finally discovered that the section behind the black velvet curtain in their library was the extensive dark arts section; but what was in the 'left wing attic'?

But anyway. Lucius was in his office and Draco and Blaise had been forbidden to bother him. As of late the ten and eleven-year-old boys had been putting their eavesdropping abilities into practice.
Draco elbowed his dark-haired friend when he had another spontaneous fit of giggles.
"Shut up. Stop being stupid, my father thinks you're going to end up in Gryffindor. You're being such a bloody Gryffindor! Now hurry up. I want to find out what my father found so important he couldn't tell me."

They crept down the long hallway, eyes from the portraits following them down. Draco's grandfather stood with his side angling towards them, a silk-gloved hand clutching the top of an elegant ebony and gold walking stick no unlike his father's.

Draco raised a single long/slim finger to his lips when he looked up at the portrait.
"Shh…Don't tell my father…"
The portrait looked back indignantly. "Your father? Hmph…I wouldn't give a single word to my disgrace of a son!"
"Yes, a disgrace…"
"Yes."
"Weak, the new generations of Malfoys."
Murmurs from other portraits floated down the hallway. Draco frowned. Nobody talked about him like that…not even a Malfoy.
"Ah shut up!" he hissed. The portraits glared at him angrily.
"No respect either!" Draco's great-grandfather sniffed. "In my day, we never spoke to our elders that way!"
Draco stalked off with Blaise on his trail. "Wait!" He passed the rest of the portraits and hurried to the end, ignoring the constant murmurs and endless chatters.
And just when he thought the voices had stopped a lone voice rang out saying:
"Front and centre, young Malfoy! Raise you chin!"

Draco looked up to see yet another pale face with long blonde hair. 'Emerald Wand', people had named that specific Malfoy. And for a very good reason. Because what usually came out of his wand was emerald. The colour of the killing curse.

Two heads were pressed against the mahogany door. All that could be heard was muffled voices. So Draco, as usual, had a better idea. He crept up one of the hidden corridors in the walls, and towards the vent in his father's office wall.

Two voices floated through the holes.
"You don't understand, Lorenz!" His father yelled, anger lacing his voice.
"If I may say so, sir…"
"No you may not!" Lucius hissed. But Lorenz went straight on.
"…If I may say so, what it seems to me, is this dream of yours is bringing back…worries." Lorenz rubbed his age creased forehead.
"Dream? It was no mere dream! The Malfoy's have a long history of powerful seers in our family. My Grandmother was a seer! I think I know what I saw, Lorenz!"
"It's not wise to assume such things. Draco's like a son to me; just as you were." Lorenz said. Lucius frowned at this.
"Like a son. Draco is like a son to you, and he is my son. You are getting far too involved in such matters, Lorenz. That is what is not wise. Draco suspects nothing and I would like to leave it that way. I will find a way. Leave my office now. I no longer need your assistance." But Lorenz didn't move.
"I have worked for your family for 50 years, sir…I know that…"
"Yes, and if you would like to continue working for this family, I suggest you leave right now." Lucius glared at him.

Lorenz looked down, defeated. "Yes sir." And he left. Silence rang through out the office, and through the hollowed wall.

"Can we go?" Blaise whispered as softly as he could. "I'm kind of squished." Draco didn't reply. He was distracted and confused.

Lucius placed a hand on his eleven-year-old son's shoulder. He said in a deep voice.

"Make me proud son"

Draco looked towards Hogwarts and nodded. He got a cold chilly feeling, a feeling that told him that he was no longer his father's little boy.

Authors note:

Okay, I couldn't update sooner because I started my Fic at a really bad time…Just before my exams!

Just on another note. Narcissa doesn't feature much in this fiction because she isn't that big a part of Draco's life. Like in the Malfoy family; she, like quite a few other Malfoy wives are just a mere presence in the manor. She there for show and not much else (unlike some other Malfoy wives who are dominant, fierce and refuse to be mere presences.).

And now, the next chapter won't be written this way. In the next chapter I will start the actual story….lalala…I think I'm going far to fast.