Memories
Draco Malfoy awoke, a petulant cry wailing through the air. It was the eve of his 6th birthday, and the nightmare he had moments before still bit sharply in the corner of his mind. The monster, with six, slimy legs, and his daddy's face.
He clapped two hands over his mouth, but it wasn't enough. He heard the angry voices: the shrill, distressed one of his mother, and the thunderous tone of his father. He lay back down, pulling his cover over his head, pretending to be asleep, knowing it would be useless as his door slammed open, and the cold attacked his skin. His father ripped the cover off, seething, yelling.
The blow came before he could mentally prepare himself for it.
It's strange, what goes on behind locked doors.
When Draco was nine, he had gone to a muggle school for a short burst of time. This was because he father was travelling, and his mother had fallen gravely ill.
Over the short, two-week period, he made a friend: a shy girl, by the name of Lilac.
Lilac was the polar opposite of him, looks and personality.
For the way his white-blond hair shined, her ebony locks seemed to attract shadows. As his grey, predatory, narrowed eyes swept the class, her light brown eyes merely rested dreamily on no fixed point. When he glared, dripping with scorn, she smiled sweetly.
Draco was quickly isolated: his proud, cocky demeanour and arrogant smile, not to mention scathing insults when he was approached, quickly made him deemed cold and distant.
Sometimes, when he saw the other children playing, he wished nothing more but to smile and laugh: to be accepted, included. Then, he would remember his father's strict instructions in the letter.
~They are beneath you, son. Don't pity the muggles, they are a plague to be...
The letter had continued several pages. So, every time his control wavered, he remembered the harsh words: and his guard was up again. He would glare at the curious yet welcome glances, and they would fear him again.
He took to staying in the library: a place deemed far too uncool for anyone. Anyone, except Lilac, that is. The girl was dreamy, shy, loving and accepting girl. There seemed not a bad bone in her body.
This got her no-where, as the other children in the class teased her mercilessly: tugging her plaits and stealing her lunch.
The observations only confirmed to Draco what his father told him every night: muggles are like animals. They are vermin.
One day, as he sat alone, she approached. He glared, and spoke harshly to her, but she only smiled.
"You look sad, Draco. Sad, and lonely. Sometimes, I wonder, if that is only because no-one has tried to love you "
His father found out about their short friendship, when he returned. Draco was being home-schooled once again, when he found a newspaper on their table.
On the front, was a large picture of Lilac, with the caption ~MISSING~
The girl was never found.
Draco never had bedtime stories. As a child, his dad would sit by his bed, and merely talk to him. One night is still in his memories, even now.
His father had babbled for some time. Then, he suddenly stopped, and narrowed his eyes.
"I love you, son," he said, gruffly, "even if it doesn't seem it. I really do. I only treat you badly, because I need to prepare you for the world. The world isn't fair, son. All you can ever have left is pride. Don't let the world drag you down into the mud."
That was the night Draco began to believe everything his father said. The raw emotion in his voice, the way he said it, it simply had to be true.
And, thus, a monster was 'born'.