There was a slight knock at his door, but he knew it was coming, the tiny foot tapping on the rosewood floor was enough for him to know it was his mother, and more then that, she was worried to death. He was sprawled on his bed, still two sizes too big for him, and no matter how many times he had told her, he had grown out of the "Littlest Dragon" bedsheets. His room was inspired by the book, but it was showing the wear that most rooms do after 16 years without someone touching it, he only spent time in it during the summers, and of course, the time he spends in his room was minimal, even then The night outside echoed every sound that was made that night, and the garden was silent except the massive amount of crickets inhabiting it, but Draco never seemed to mind. It was a good sleep track. And of course, the walls were colored green, very much in line with how Narcissa and Lucius how they wanted their little boy to grow, which was into their very own house, that they may or may not have showered hundreds of thousands of galleons on.
"Draco! Answer the door sweetie!" she said in a voice that was all too willing to compromise.
"Told you, you can come in," he mumbled into the pillow, right in the middle of trying to take a nap.
She walked in with about as much confidence as she had if she were a mouse, and moved across the piles of dirty clothes to sit on the perfectly kept sheets.
"Draco sweetie, we need to talk," she rubbed one of the little dragons on the bedspread.
"I thought we already are,"
"Can you sit up to talk to me?" her eyes flashed a dangerous color.
"I don't know. Can I?"
She smacked him. Hard. Right on the bum. It was reminiscent of the spankings he got when he was little.
"Ow! Alright, alright. I'm here," he flipped over and sat up, his hair disheveled.
She started to fix his hair, "Draco honey, you need a spell that actually works for your hair. Not that wacky one you're using,"
"You wanted to talk?"
"Yeah, let's talk. So you know, me and your father, right?"
"Yeah, why bring it up?"
"OK, and you know Veela right?"
He gave his mother a look, "Yeah, duh. Nearly gave me a heart attack fourth year."
"That's good," she was somewhere else, "so I brought this book, and I think, well, just read it."
He gave her another look, and flipped to the page that felt right to him, "Hmm, interesting, there's words. And pictures."
"Page 394,"
"Flashback much?" Draco flipped the pages, stopping now and again, "So what? It's just a family chart. An empty one at that."
"I enchanted it. Can you put your finger on the square at the bottom of the page?"
"What's it gonna do?" he looked to her, accusingly.
"Nothing, just put your finger there."
"If you don't tell me…"
"Just do it!" she laughed, "It'll be very informative, and you'll like it. I'm sure."
He sighed, knowing when to give up when it was something his mother was this adamant about. He placed his finger on the small square on the bottom of the page, feeling the frigid cold fingers of the enchantment start wrapping around the fibers of his fingers, penetrating every pore of his appendage until he could feel the little droplets of essence that were contained in his finger drip out onto the page. The words spread onto the family tree like little blips of ink falling from the air around it.
And then it struck him. The words in the parental spot were not Narsissa and Lucius Malfoy, but rather…
"Aha! That's enough!" Narsissa ripped the book out of Draco's hand.
"What is this? Some sick practical joke? And give that back! I didn't read all of it!"
"No. I suppose you didn't," she passed it off as a lighthearted grin.
"What does this… If you think for one minute this is funny…"
"Listen sweetie, me and your uncle have been wanting to tell you this…"
"Uncle? What is going on? This is so unfunny right now."
"This is not a joke, dear. This is the truth. And I know it may hurt…"
"May hurt? This is more then hurting, Mom. This is to hurting as hurting is to a chocolate frog."
"What do you want me to say? What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to say nothing and get out of my room! I want you to just get out of my life!"
"You don't mean that Draco!"
"Test me! You want to see me angry?"
"You already are! What do you want me to say?"
"Nothing! Get out!"
"We need to talk!"
"We already did talk! Out!"
Narsissa got up in a huff and a few small tears, and strode out of the door, slamming it along the way. And then the waterworks started, Draco started crying helplessly, repeating the mantra "You're fucked," to himself over and over again. He willed himself into a world that was inhabited by Potter. He was so goddamn lucky, and to think! People thought he was was some poor orphan boy. But he knew better, he knew what kind of life Potter led. The amount of love that was poured into that man's life was something he was eternally envious of.
His new mantra was "I'm not him" as he bawled his eyes out into the sheets he despised. This could all be very simple to solve. Just be over it already, he told himself, but no. He was too stubborn. He willed himself somewhere else, to Hogwarts. Somehow he knew Potter felt the same way, when he is sad, he thinks of the same place, and that's where it seems they can't fuck up. It was almost a refreshing feeling, surrounding himself in the dreamlike landscape of Hogwarts.
He gasped, and reached for his wand. He didn't want to deal with the real world right now, and he knew the exact right spell. He learned it last year, in Charms. It was Flitwick's little charm to get himself to sleep when he needed to, and in the most luxurious setting as well. He put it to the bridge of his nose, and thought about Hogwarts, and everyone who would make him happy right now.
"Unifordo"
OH HAI U GUIES. WUT UP? OK, so I know this chapter seems short now, but I had to split it into two. This mofo had the ingenius little idea to include extra little scenes not in the original fanfiction that don't really have any significant influence on the plot, and I figured the next chapter will be the first /FREAKED/ chapter. You excited? You should be.