Title: Part Two: Six Years to Wisdom I
Author: Zilpha Q.
Rating: T
Beta: arabesqueno2 at lj.
Notes: This is an AU. No magic. They are Young here, the previous showed them in their mid-twenties.
They groped in the dark for each others' warmth, hands slipping graciously together. They will never understand, will they Draco? asked the wide-eye boy. No, the blond answered No.
It was at the start of the age six where Draco Malfoy's future became clear and undiluted.
They sky was clear; the morning of his sixth birthday was white and frozen. No one would have predicted the dark realizations that were to happen soon. Draco had awoken with a fear stuck to his gut, and his small form was filled with a sense of a dark happening, huge and ominous.
His father loomed in the corner of his room.
"Draco," his voice, soft, caused shivers of more fear trailing down his spine. Lucius was indeed a powerful man, yet he still was Father and Father must be obeyed no matter the result. "Your studies are to commence, son. Young as you may seem, you are, indeed, growing. This is the perfect opportunity for learning, not for silly games. There will be no more antics, my dear boy. You will not like the punishment I will be forced to give, if you survive it, of course. Belief is not necessary, but fact. My tolerance for horseplay is nonexistent. Remember that."
"Yes, sir." Draco breathed out.
"Now, a tutor has already been hired ready to answer at my beck and call. Come down, son, for breakfast and you will meet him. You'll find your presents down there as well. Enjoy them, they are not toys."
"Yes, sir."
"Good. I expect to see you down there in ten minutes." He turned and walked out of Draco's room. His footsteps, sharp, pierced out of the door and began to diminish as the door was shut.
Draco sat still on his warm bed. The cold air wrapped thin fingers on his skinny frame sending outbreaks of shivers. Nine minutes remained. He couldn't to be late to his birthday breakfast especially with guests. His form is racked with more shivers as he dreaded what was to come if his presence was delayed. He pushed himself of his soft bed and quickly dressed in his best robes, thoroughly combing his pale slivers of hair. He bit his lip. Three minutes had only remained.
Draco Malfoy walked slowly down the stairs; his insides churning, fluttering in flights of fear. His small frame was nearly assaulted by trembles, but he held his chin high. Draco managed to hold himself together, each step calm and unnerving, but with only little resolve. He looked straight ahead, his head uncommonly straight and unmoving as his eyes darted across the dining area. He feared that it would be one of Father's nasty little goons. He feared even more so of Riddle, feared of his mean smirk and nasty look in his eyes.
A breath of relief escaped his lips. i>Please Father, Don't you- /i>
"Draco, so good to see you have finally graced us with your presence."
Draco's lips barely lifted into a smile. He walked closer to the rather large ornate table filled with plates and dishes at one end and presents at the other end. He lifted his eyes back to the new tutor. His hair was a hideous color red, eyeglasses sliding down his nose, freckled face looking stern with his lips in a tight frown.
A fabled Weasley.
The young Malfoy took a step forward and quickly slipped into his usual spot at the dining table.
"This is Percy, and from his disgusting hair it is obvious he is of the Weasley clan." Lucius Malfoy introduced snidely. "He is not to be treated as equal to you, my dear boy. Neither is his brother, Ron, who will take part in your education as a sparring partner. I had to present the opportunity of showing you who are the lesser creatures of society."
Draco caught a look of distaste cross Percy's face. It quickly dissolved back into a stern unwavering face. He wondered why the brother was not here to share his birthday breakfast. His father probably thought Ron was not good enough to have his face shown just yet.
Draco wished for someone his age. He hated the loneliness that came with living with his father.
Ron, the blond boy whispered. I wish for forever. Forever away from- don't, with clenched teeth, the red head spoke, don't say it.
Breakfast went by quickly, as well as the presents. They were as promised not toys. He received series of books on history, strategy, mathematics, etc. as well as blank books, parchment, quills, new clothing and a deadly revolver that lay buried underneath a wooden plank on the floor. Draco, though, was in awe for the most impressive present he held in his hand. A long sword. The sword blazing in his hand was not a toy; he knew it. He knew it so well, but it was beautiful. The blade was long, silver blade etched with a golden dragon on the handle; the gleam was exciting enough for the young boy.
He was not allowed to practice with it yet, but with a blunt wooden sword that he eyed cautiously at.
He stood, gently placing the sword in his chest before slowly picking up the wooden toy with his fingers. He put it away, transcending his posture from one of excitement to one of ease and apathy.
He tore out of his room. His feet were light on the ground; his heart clenched in fear his father would hear his quick steps. Running in the house was forbidden, but he was helpless against his need to explore swordplay.
Draco was outside, his father did not see, relief filled his chest and he could breathe.
But breath became nonexistent when a young boy with beautiful red hair stared at him openly with surprise.
Ron.