A/N: Thanks to all those who seem to be enjoying the story, and special thanks to those who r&r.
He was now sitting in his bed. His earlier conversation with his friend seemed a million miles away. He was agitated at himself for even bringing up her. He wondered if Blaise had seen through his façade to what his true thoughts were. He doubted it. He keeps them hidden, even from himself, he always did. He never slept much anymore. No! He slammed his eyes shut in an attempt to stop his train of thought. He knew what was keeping him up at nights, he knew all too well. He wouldn't allow his thoughts to go there, not yet anyway. He was going to attempt to slow his impending fate anyway he could. He knew it was a losing battle, but what other choice did he have? He was completely against the wall. Why couldn't he be in control of his life for one minute? He resented everything about his current predicament. He knew he needed to get some sleep, he allowed his thoughts to wander anywhere but his chosen fate. As he lay in his bed the beautiful deep green bedding with the black and silver frame engulfing him. He allowed his thoughts to go to her. He had made up his mind he could no longer just play with her. Oh how he wished he could just carry on with only that simple pleasure he had always gotten from that. He had no idea how this way going to turn out, but then again he knew he didn't have much if anything to lose after this year was over. He had this feeling as if everything around him was slowly slipping away, he was becoming vulnerable. Not a quality his current situation needs. He was always more vulnerable than he allowed people to see. His soul was ripe and for the taking the second he was born, and it was. It was taken, his life was never his own. He found that out rather quickly. His mind drifted off to sleep.
"Potter doesn't seem to be interested in my friendship though father."
"Well of course why would he the way you behave sniveling little brat. I should have known better than to ask you to do something worthy of the last name I so generously bestow upon you. Simple fucking task, gain his trust. You're my son." The tall blonde man sneered down at the young boy of eleven.
"I tried telling him about the weasleys though father, just like you said! But-" The young boy pleaded. The tall snarling man cut him off in anger.
"But what failed to deliver on yet again another simple task Draco."
"He was already friends with one!"
The man growled, "Who else?"
The blonde boy looked up at his father with confusion.
"Dear Merlin you're dumb who else has the Potter boy made friends with?"
"This girl Hermione." The boy offered quietly he had grown to envy the girl she was smart and bold from what he had seen.
"House?" The man demanded.
"Well she's in Gryffindor." The boy offered.
"Wonderful, last name?" The man sneered down at the young blonde boy who was almost his spitting image.
"Granger." The little boy stated with confusion as to why his father needed this information.
"I don't know any wizard families by that name. She must be a filthy little mudblood!" The man spat out the last word as if he had tasted something bad and needed to get the taste out of his mouth.
"A what?" The boy asked.
"Someone who is born to muggles and has magical powers, these children are a disgrace Draco. They are trying to take over our world. They are the scum of the wizarding world. Magical learning should be kept within all magic families. It is bad enough most of our world is now half blood. There is a reason you were born Draco, trust me you shall find out soon enough, but in the meantime you must act a certain way. You have to trust everything I say. You must obey me. You must hate this girl and anyone like her. You my son are a pure blood slytherin. You are better than her and all those like her. Any chance you get you must make her place known; make her feel less than you because she is." The man said this all to his boy without ever breaking eye contact, even to blink.
"But father," The young boy hesitated "I-I well she's really smart and she has these eyes they remind me of chocolate." SMACK.
The boy was struck hard across his face with the top of his father's walking stick. He fell straight to the ground with a loud thud.
"Don't you ever say anything like that again! Were you not listening to everything I just said? You would bring disgrace upon your mother and me. Not to mention much much worse if things go how I hear they're going to come the next few years."
Draco awoke that morning; his mind always failed him in his sleep. It would relieve childhood memories. Not exactly the happiest of dreams. He was a strong willed young man, but when it came to certain things he always felt powerless. He always assumed that's why he felt the need to be so strong in every other aspect of his life, because he was forced to be so weak in those. He controlled what he saw that he could control, even if he wasn't in control of his own life. He would be control of his new conquest. He would have this final thing, perhaps the memory of finally doing something he knew he wanted , on a carnal level of course, would help him in the rest of his planned out to be miserable life.
TBC