Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. All credit must be given to J.K.
The Cradle Will Fall
Chapter 14
It was the summer after my fifth year. I had only been home a week when my mother had put me on a train to a family friend's home. The arrest of my father was too much stress for her to handle and me arriving home would not help her situation. She promised to send for me the second she was feeling well. I didn't care. I had plans of my own.
I refused to spend my summer with some stupid friend of my mother's. No doubt they probably had some type of nut case in their family. My mother's friends were all the same. A muggle lover here, a half-blood there. It was revolting. Father wouldn't have sent me to a loony family. If it were father that needed time alone, he would have sent me off to a fancy hotel with a satchel of galleons. And that's exactly what I did.
I arrived at Hôtel de la Manche, an unplottable hotel near the English Channel and my bags were immediately taken to my suite. The Malfoy name was practically gold in itself, so when the hotel manager came to greet me, he was ecstatic and was glad to have me for as long as I wished to stay. No pay needed.
The next morning I awoke to the blinding sun filtering itself through the curtains and into my suite. After dressing for the day I immediately made my way down to the hotel's dining hall for breakfast.
I sat alone, slightly bitter that my father would allow himself to be arrested. I couldn't stop thinking about Potter and how he always managed to insult me before I left for the summer. It was Potter's fault my father was in prison and he was going to pay.
"You're a Malfoy, aren't you?" A young blond boy my age with rosy cheeks sat down opposite me. I was slightly startled by the appearance of the boy but he was welcomed company. I hated not having someone to talk to, and if he knew who I was he couldn't be all that bad.
"Why, yes. I'm Draco Malfoy, Lucius' son." I stopped slouching and sat straight in my chair like I was taught. I pushed my breakfast to the side and folded my hands in my lap, trying to make a good impression on the boy. 'Behave like a gentleman' my mother always reminded me.
"Your father's a crook." My courteous smile melted from my face and was soon replaced by a frown. How dare this boy speak of my father this way? Perhaps he didn't realize how much power the Malfoy name had. I could feel my face absolutely burning.
"Pardon? Do you have any idea—"
"Hey! Hey! Settle down! See what I mean? Your father's taught you to be very defensive." The boy continued to smile at me as if we were talking about the weather.
"Who are you?" My faced was very sour and unattractive by now, but I didn't care. This boy was truly offending me and I was about ready to retreat to my suite.
"My name is Martin. Just Martin." He grinned.
"Well, Just Martin, I'd like to have you know that without my father there wouldn't be many of the organizations you know of today." I held my chin up and refused to accept anything else.
"Like what? Death Eaters of Britain?" That was not what I meant and he knew it. "How many friends do you have, Draco?" I was surprised by his question, and slightly embarrassed.
"I have plenty of friends." I counted three. Maybe four.
"Oh?" Martin wasn't convinced. Why did it matter? He was not important to me.
"Your father's the reason for your lack of friends. He has you believing you're better than others. He has you believing you're above your peers. People don't like that, Draco. People don't appreciate it and resent you for it." I tried my hardest to stop listening to the boy and leave. I couldn't though. What the boy was saying made sense. I hated it though. It made me furious.
"Your father has raised you to obey his every whim. You're not his son. You're his slave. You're too blind to see it. You're trapped in his grasp. With him away in prison you have a chance to be free. Fly away, Draco. Fly." I was starting to have an inkling this boy was a friend of my mothers.
"I'm not trapped. You're just mad." I slammed my hands on the table and pushed myself out of my seat. I'd had enough of the boy's preaching.
I locked myself in my suite and didn't come out that day. I sat at my window and watched the freezing waters below. The glare of the sun on the water made it look so enticing. I couldn't stop thinking of what Martin had been telling me, though. Was I really trapped? I had always felt free to do what I felt. Until now, that is. The idea of starting my life anew was as enticing as the gleaming waters below the hotel. What if Martin had been lying, though? I'll freeze and drown.