Draco protests as I dump him in the bath, kicking and flailing. I ignore him. He has to be clean today, he has to be perfect. Nobody must ever suspect that he is anything but perfect.
My boy screams as I pour soapy water over his head, the alkaline solution burning his eyes. I cannot believe how grey the water has so suddenly become; how could I have allowed him to stay this filthy for so long? My nose crinkles with distaste as I scrub him, determined that by the time I finish, he shall be sparkling.
You might, perhaps, be wondering why I am doing such an unpleasant job myself when I could easily someone else to do it? But I cannot stand the thought of some mangy house-elf touching my pet, their incompetent, coarse fingers scratching at his delicate skin. If they aren't careful, they may even break him and what would I do then?
I will not have another pet taken away from me…
By the time I have finished, Draco's skin is pink and sensitive to the point where it is painful to my touch. But, at least, he is clean.
He is still sniffling as I dress him, puppy-dog eyes glaring at me, full of hurt and resentment at the ordeal I had just put him through. The clothes I put him in are new and stiff, ones I have saved for an occasion such as this. Draco stands as still as a tailor's dummy as I fasten buttons and tie laces, never taking his eyes off me all the while.
Finally, I turn him around and take a brush to his hair, no longer a dull-grey but a bright, snowy blonde. Just like me. I smile to myself as I admire my boy, deciding that I like him like this, pretty and new.
"There," I say proudly. "Now you are rather pleasing to look at. Doesn't that feel nice?" Draco doesn't seem to agree and a growl rises up from his throat. "None of that, now," I admonish sharply, cuffing across the ear. "You are to behave yourself today. We're going out."
He frowns. "Out?" he repeats uncertainly. "Out…" Draco cocks his head to the side, silently asking me to explain.
"Outside," I point to the window. "Away from the house."
Draco looks alarmed. "Away?" he whispers, glancing nervously into he garden. "To people?"
"Yes, there will be people there."
Draco gave a long moan of distress and buried his face in the front of my robes, wailing ardently. "No! No! No!"
"Control yourself, boy!" I snap, quite angered by Draco's outburst. "You'll have to face people one day and it won't kill you to start now."
With a snarl, Draco pushes himself away from me and runs away, leaving me with a ribbon in my hand and a scowl on my face.
I find him wandering the house lost and confused. He isn't used to having so much space around him…
Suddenly, I start worrying; what if I'm doing the wrong thing? What if he isn't ready to be introduced to the outside world? He knows of the dangers that are out there, that's why he was so scared when I told him. That's why I keep him here, I have to protect him from that.
I watch him from the door, my precious boy flitting about the drawing room in state of panic not unlike that of a caged bird or a trapped mouse. He is so beautifully innocent and yet, at the same time, completely feral.
"Draco." He turns, wild eyed with fright. I crouch down and hold out my hand to him and he comes to me, teary-eyed and whimpering. I wrap my arms around his shivery little body, drawing him close to me and telling him I love him.
"I'm sorry Father, I'm sorry," he cries. "Don't send me away! I'll be good…I will…"
"Hush Pet," I tell him, smoothing his newly washed hair away from his anxious face. "I won't send you away, but you must stay close to me when we go out and do exactly as I tell you. If you wander away from you, I might never find you again, do you understand that?"
Draco hesitates, then nods slowly, "Yes Father, I understand. I must be good. Not bad."
I smile, "That's right. Now turn around and let me tie up your hair. You cannot go out looking anything less than a gentleman."
"A gentleman…" Draco repeats quietly to himself, as I tie the ribbon into a bow. "I'm a gentleman…"
