At Malfoy Manor, he was staring at his reflection bitterly in the mirror. As a man who was usually pleased with the way he looked and presented himself- Draco was upset with the way his face seemed to be covered in barely there bruises. Just like his mother, Draco was very concerned for his appearance and this lack of sleep was doing nothing for it. Perhaps after he got some healthy food into him his ghostly complexion would return back to its normal pale pink state.

When he walked downstairs he saw his mother perched on the couch reading another one of her silly wizard romance novels. His breakfast was sitting on the dining room table still warm from the warming spell his mother had put on it.

"Thank you" Draco mumbled, barely audible, and Narcissa smiled from behind her book.

For a while, Narcissa stopped reading her book and simply watched as her son consumed his breakfast so delicately. She had to stifle a halfhearted chuckle when he gingerly pressed a napkin on either corner of his mouth. Shaking her head, little memories of Draco and his cute little prim and proper tendencies flew into her mind. Like that time that he was first going to Hogwarts, and he was worried that his room mates wouldn't keep the room clean; or even before that when he tried so hard to help her organize his ninth birthday party. This time she couldn't hold her light chuckle back and Draco quickly snapped his gaze in her direction, so much different than the curious little boy he used to be. "What are you laughing at?"

Narcissa didn't answer him, she just gazed at her son and wondered how he got to be so hostile. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew the answer- she knew it was because of Lucius- but she would never admit that.

"Do you think we have any old photo albums?" she said, walking into the other room lazily.

"Blimey, my mother's turned into bloody Loony Lovegood!" Draco hissed, walking over to the stair so he could spend another day alone in the comfort of his room again.

"Draco, sweetheart, look what I found!" his mother came rushing in holding an enormous dusty book "look! It's a photo album! Oh, don't go upstairs and make me read this alone!" she begged as she noticed Draco sulking towards the stairs. He didn't respond, ignoring her until he reached the first step.

"Draco Malfoy you will come over here and look at this with me this instant!" she screeched. Draco rolled his eyes and started sulking towards his mother this time, upset with himself that he followed orders so faithfully.

When he sat down on the black leather couch next to Narcissa, he noticed a picture of a dreamy blue eyed baby with ice-white hair and very chubby cheeks.

"Is that me?" Draco said, crushing the urge to smile back at the chubby baby in the portrait.

"Frowning even back then, not much has changed after all." She sighed and turned the page. The photo he saw next kicked him in the gut with disbelief and longing.

"father?" he said, shocked, looking at a picture of a blond, happy-looking man with hair only up to his shoulders who was sitting on his favorite chair in the living room- bouncing what looked to be a three year old Draco on is knee. The anger, resentment, and fear that usually lingered in his fathers eyes wasnt there, and the pure love that he felt between the man and his son sent a warm sensation through his body. Draco peered over to the leather chair he knew to be his fathers- staring at it so intently as if trying to register the memory.

"Draco?" Narcissa said softly as she reached out to touch his shoulder. As soon as he felt his mothers warming touch on his shoulder, he snapped out of his trance and slipped himself out of her grip.

"Can I go upstairs now?" he said coolly. Narcissa sighed, giving up once again on getting her little boy to be happy again. "Very well, go isolate yourself in your room for another whole day." She snipped. Narcissa was a very loving and kind-hearted mother, but she was still the sister of Bellatrix- and she had picked up on some of her cruelty while growing up.

Draco released a low growl from the back of his throat in response to his mother's sarcastic outburst. He sneered and sulked back up the marble stairs to his room.

He paced around in his room for a bit, the images of those moving pictures of his family before there was pressure and resistance were pestering him. Draco could feel the familiar urge to start crying- but he hadn't cried in three years, and he wasn't about to cry over some silly childhood memories, no matter how much he missed them.

He needed something to get lost in, quickly. His ice blue eyes darted around the room for a distraction, and they fell on a large dusty book that he knew to be his favorite wizard novel to get lost in. he picked it up, wiped the layer of dust off it, and weakly smiled when he saw the familiar title written in warm gold letters. The Adventures of Warwick Pendleton, it read.

This book was 770 pages of brilliant tales of adventure, mystery, murder, and true love. Draco didn't particularly fancy reading about the latter- but every once in a while his mothers love for romance would settle in him and he secretly enjoyed it. Narcissa saw it in him, and Draco would deny it until death- but truthfully, Draco was very romantic. Much like his father.