AN: This is obviously very AU as Draco would not end up like he did.
Disclaimer: Nothing that you recognise is mine it belongs to J.K Rowling.
Caligo
It must be done really, he cannot let a child be so disobedient, he cannot allow him to run riot about the house as though he were the master. There is a strict sense of order in his life and his child must adhere to it, must be taught to adhere to it whatever the cost. But on the whole he is kind, he would never violently attack his little darling like his father did to him, he has compassion, he has love for his little boy no matter how many rules he breaks. No, he just have one simple little spell that can put an end to whatever he is doing instantly and all the better if it teaches him never to step out of line again. He has to be taught order, has to be taught that there are rules, has to learn never to step out of line because if he were to do it with a different master then he would certainly find that he would be punished much more severely, much more irreversibly.
Caligo
At first as caliginosity descended the child would cry, wail and shiver in terror, as though the very dark were out to get him, he would run round haphazardly until enough bumps into doors, walls, down steps, taught him to stay still, perfectly, perfectly still.
It wasn't his original idea for punishment, although it had never been used on him. He heard that muggles would push children into dark rooms, lock them there as punishments, leave them for days to sit in the dark. Muggles always were crude in their efforts. They had the right idea behind it for once; they just had no finesse, no skill. Children don't have to be moved to be in darkness, they don't need to be locked away to be confined in a prison. Black is the colour of walls, of entrapment, concealment, of punishment. Once he learnt not to move, never to move he was almost constantly in his rooms, he even began to scream if anyone tried to lead him out of them. He would grow out of that for school. But it made it very practical for any friends that had to come round that could not be seen so perhaps he began to use the curse a little liberally.
The spell could last for seconds or it could last for days. However long it took for him to feel that the child had understood that he was wrong or when it was safe for him to be allowed to see and eventually he began forgetting that the spell was on his son. By a certain age he would act the same anyway. He knew not to wail, his voice could be spelled away just as easily, tears would fall from the unblinking eyes that were unable to convey any emotion at all, frozen in their world. Sometimes, when he would forget that the spell was on he would summon his child to him, and his little darling knew never to ignore a summons, but when he would run to him he would be so clumsy around the house and the sharp objects that lay inside. He still loved his child dearly but he should have been watching himself, or he should have stayed still, he loved his boy but he wanted him to grow up strong, he was never healed.
Sometimes he would sit with his child during parts of his punishment, his wife encouraged it, but she had always coddled the boy. But he would comply, there could be no harm to it, and sometimes he was moved to speak so he could tell his son that once he learnt to be strong and independent and to break the curse then it would be simple, practice makes perfect and to practice you must do it once. His son could benefit from understanding exactly what was going on, exactly what was expected of him because sometimes he thought that his son had the wrong idea, he would never try to break it, never out any effort in to stop it happening, he would sit there, immobile as though it would all just go away, as though he couldn't even feel it anymore. That wasn't what he should be doing, he didn't understand. His presence never did much to detract from the punishment, even when they sat silently. There was always the unknown; his presence had never brought comfort to his child. He had never given him cause to believe that he would protect him. He never would. Love doesn't mean coddling, it means making him strong, toughening him up. The soft footsteps and the dip in the couch next to him would alert the prisoner of his company. The child would try to stop his shaking.
They could never stop when he was near him though, and that irritated him, did his child not appreciate him? Could he not see the love behind the action? All those other times he would be still, waiting, but when he came near he would use up all that stored energy in an expression of fear, he found that his love would wear thin then. The boy never turned to face him, just looked straight ahead as if he wouldn't be able to hear what would come. But he would always hear. He made sure of it. The boy had to understand why he did it; he had to understand why he was there, what he was. He told him how disobedient he was, how he was a waste of the purity of his blood. He would sit silent, as he understood. He was to be a perfect pure blood specimen, but the gods had warped him. He was little more than a muggle with pure blood, he was pathetic he was weak, he was frail, he was worthless, he was nothing. He had to understand. How if he were stronger then he would have figured out a way to break the spell. He only wanted his child to show a spark of intelligence, to prove him wrong just once. But he would just sit there, waiting. So he had to be punished.
Muggles said that it was wrong to lock children away in the darkness; they said that it damaged the child's mind, that it would affect them for the rest of their lives. They said that you had to encourage your children; you had to make them feel accepted and loved. That they needed their confidence boosted to let them be able to take risks, to learn and to improve. The claimed that they needed to be given a voice, that they could only become strong with a warm and loving background.
Muggles always were weak.
He was doing the right thing, the loving thing. Animals born into a synthesised environment, a zoo, where there is no lack of what they need, where all natural predators are absent is weak. Its not normal, its not safe. When they exit their cocoon and are released into the wild they are unable to survive. They don't understand lack of food; they don't know that they have to hunt for themselves. They don't know that they have to hide from the bigger animals, they don't know how to run, how to fight. He was fixing his child, was helping him live, helping him succeed.
He only had to break a simple caligo. He only had to be strong.