9th July 1988

"Why hasn't he written back?" I stormed for what had to be the fiftieth time in the last few days. "It's been over four days and he hasn't replied!"

"Even if you say it a thousand times," my mother sighed as she watched me pace up and down the length of our small kitchen, "it is not going to change a thing."

I ignored her and continued my pointless journey, muttering incoherently beneath my breath. I desperately wanted to apparate straight to Wiltshire and find out what was going on. But then again, I was pretty certain that my interference would not be tolerate by either of the Malfoy parents so soon after their son's return.

"Oh for god sake Severus!" snapped my mother, slamming her hand down on the wooden surface of the table. "Your pacing's giving me a headache! Draco's probably been busy settling in, getting back into a routine…that kind of thing. Stop being so paranoid!"

"Paranoid?" I whirled angrily around to face her. "You've certainly changed your tune! 'If I had my way he'd be taken away from you and your equally stupid husband for good' you said! And now you're perfectly comfortable with the fact that Draco has been back home for several days and has not been in contact with me, with us!" My hands, by this point, were being waved around dramatically. "How can you not be concerned?"

My mother's dark eyes narrowed and she folded her arms moodily across her chest. "I never said I wasn't concerned," she muttered, fingers drumming on the table in a most irritating fashion. "I merely suggested that, perhaps, Draco has had other, more important things, on his mind."

I glared at her. "You called me paranoid…"

"Your are!" she insisted. "You always assume the worst-"

"Can you blame me?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing! "You've seen how they treat him! You've seen the bruises on Draco's body!" My mother lowered her head as I ranted at her. "Of course I assume the worst! The last time Draco was left to the mercy of his idiotic parents, they allowed a paedophile into the house!"

I saw my mother shudder slightly and her long, dark hair fell in a heavy curtain about her face. For once, like me, her conscience was hurting.

"I won't go," I conceded grimly. "I won't interfere, but I am going to write again and if I do not receive a reply before I leave for Hogwarts, I'm going over there to find out why."

My dearest Draco,

Are you okay? How is everything? I hope that you are settling in well and that your parents aren't trying to push you too hard. I am starting my new job soon, but I promise to try and drop in on you before I leave.

Please please write back so that I don't have to worry about you even if it's just to let me know that you've received this letter and that you aren't dead…

Don't forget: Keep the envelope in a safe place so that you know it's there for when you need it.

I remain, as ever, faithfully yours,

Severus Snape, 'Sir'.

Glasses perched on the very tip of his nose, Lucius' grey eyes scanned the two letters that were set of before him with a contemptuous sneer. The bloody nerve of that wretched, interfering man!

'I think it would be a good thing,' he read with pursed lips. 'to remind your father that you are your own person and not simply an extension of himself.'

Lucius read this with a derisive snort; as though Draco would have the nerve to remind him of anything! True enough, Lucius had been shocked at how wild Draco had been in Diagon Alley, but that was simply due to the fact that they had been in public and he had known that the consequences of disobedience would be less severe than they would be in private.

But Draco was home now, back where he should be and Lucius would quickly put an end to any thoughts of rebellion should they arise.

"Stupid man…" he muttered to himself, carefully refolding the first letter and slipping it back into its envelope, before turning his attention to the second, much shorter one.

"Drivel," Lucius thought dismissively. "Nothing but pointless drivel."

He was about to tear the useless thing up and discard it entirely, when one sentence caught his attention- 'Don't forget: Keep the envelope in a safe place so that you know it's there for when you need it'

Folding his glasses and placing them on his desk, Lucius sat back in his chair; Now, this was interesting…

Pulse racing, palms sweaty, Draco walked as slowly as he could down the endlessly long corridor to his father's study.

He had not seen his father since the incident with the door as Draco had been permitted to rest for a few days, providing he ate what the house-elf brought him. But this morning, breakfast had been accompanied by a message from Draco's father;

"Master requires Master Draco to visit him in his study at eleven thirty," Dobby told him as the boy ate his porridge. "And Master Draco is to look presentable."

And so, after Dobby at fetched the appropriate clothes from Draco's rooms, the morning had been spent making the young Malfoy look presentable for his father. That meant the black robes with the silver clasp which Draco had received for his birthday, a clean, white shirt, black silk trouser and a tie…Draco couldn't tie a tie for the life of him and had fumbled around for a good quarter of an hour before the house-elf came to his rescue.

Unconsciously biting his lip, Draco approached the forbidding oak door at the end of the passage-way with ever increasing reluctance. He knew that he wasn't in trouble, the little boy reasoned as he hovered outside. So it was completely ridiculous to be afraid…unfortunately, his shaking legs did not seem to comprehend this logic.

Draco took a deep breath, steeling himself, and knocked once on the door.

At first, there was no answer but Draco could not bring himself to knock a second time. Then, eventually, his father's voice came filtering though the wood, "Enter."

Hands pressed flat against the dark wooden panels, Draco pushed hard and let himself in.

His father's study was the only room in the Manor that the house-elves were not permitted to clean and no one- not even the minister of magic, or his mother or anyone in the world- was allowed to even set a foot in there without Draco's father's permission. Draco himself had only been in there a couple of times- once just after Severus had gone away and the other during the period in which he had stopped talking…Draco didn't really care to remember that.

The boy's blue-grey eyes scanned the little room curiously; the waste-paper basket was overflowing with discarded documents and letter, the bookshelves were filled to the point of bursting and there was not an inch of space left on the antique desk- an extremely large piece of furniture which was as old as the house itself- that hadn't been already covered with parchment or spare quills or books or bottles of ink and all manner of other things that were essential for Draco's father to have around him at all times.

Draco took in a deep breath; the room smelled of old leather from the books, pine from the furniture and a comforting blend of cinnamon and fireweed honey from his father.

Like its occupant, the compact study was enticing yet forbidding, fascinating but incredibly dangerous…and the power contained in such a small space made Draco give a little shudder of nervous delight.

Lucius watched- his pale face expressionless- as Draco crept into the room, pushed the door quietly shut behind him and stood with his back against the wall- hands clasped behind his back, head bowed- and waited to be told what to do.

'He always looks so miserable…' Lucius thought with a frown, taking a moment to watch his son. He found it almost impossible to imagine that the pathetic little creature standing before him was the same happy, vivacious boy that Severus was always going on about. 'When was the last time I saw him smile?'

Clearing his throat, Lucius gestured to an ornate chair on the other side of the desk. "Sit down," he said to the waiting boy.

Without raising his eyes from the carpet, Draco obeyed silently and shuffled onto the seat- feet dangling an inch above the ground..

"How're you feeling?" enquired Lucius, feeling that that was as good a place as any to begin. "Better?"

Draco gave a faint nod, studying his hands.

"You certainly don't look as terrible as you did," the elder Malfoy continued uncomfortably. "It's probably because you're eating again…" his voice trailed hopelessly off.

Man and boy sat with a wall of silence- as dense and as immovable as one made of brick- between them. Hands hidden from the other beneath the desk, they both fidgeted uneasily.

"I think," Lucius said finally, "that there are some things that you and I need to discuss. Yes?"

Draco made no response and continued to knot his fingers together.

"Draco, look at me." Leaning forward, Lucius snapped his fingers right in front of his son's face, making the little boy flinch. "I am trying to talk to you properly," the man continued, once he had Draco's attention. "And I need to know what is going on in your head so that I can determine the appropriate way forward."

Lucius sighed loudly as Draco stared, blank eyed, back at him; this was ridiculous! What in Merlin's name did Severus see in the boy?

"Talk!" Lucius commanded. "Tell me your thoughts! Why are you so bloody unhappy? Why won't you look at me? Damn it Draco!" The little boy cringed as his father's hand was slammed down upon the dark wooden surface. "I am trying to help you! Talk to me!"

All fidgeting ceased the second his father had raised his voice and Draco sat frozen in his seat- heart pounding, mind buzzing.

"I-I…umm…" he stammered. He had to talk. Father had told him to, He had to obey…disobedience resulted in punishment…but his throat refused to work and besides, Draco didn't even know what he was supposed to be talking about. Draco's eyes flicked pleadingly to his father's. "Please…" he managed to whisper. "I-I don't…I don't know…"

This was not how Lucius had wanted this meeting to go; Draco was supposed to be appreciative of Lucius' efforts to make him feel better and there he was, looking as frightened as he did when he was in serious trouble.

Lucius- as a rule- detested having to tip-toe around people, but it seemed as though they would never get anywhere unless he kept his temper in check.

Taking a moment to calm himself, Lucius spoke carefully to his son, "I am not trying to test you," he assured the boy. "It's just…" Unable to find the right way to phrase what he wanted to say, the Malfoy patriarch sighed heavily. "I'm your father, Draco. It is my duty to ensure that you are okay and to find out what the matter is when you aren't."

Draco's blonde head drooped so that his chin touched his chest.

"And you obviously aren't," Lucius continued, hands resting on the desk in front of him. "It was completely irresponsible of me to leave you in the care of your mother and I have no idea what she did to you to make you hide away-"

"It wasn't Mother," whispered Draco into his collar. "It wasn't her fault…she didn't do anything."

This information did not please Lucius in the slightest. If Narcissa wasn't the cause, that meant it was something else. And if it was something else…

"Then what?" Lucius pressed, almost afraid to ask and earnestly dreading the answer he would receive.

But Draco just sat there- biting his lip and looking down at his hands- the picture of unhappiness. "I can't," he managed to whisper eventually. "You said…in your letter…it's not to be spoken of again."

"Draco for god sake! Just say it!"

The little boy raised his eyes slightly to meet his father's; expression pleading. "Father please…he's there, in my room…"

Lucius' whole body went rigid; this was not happening! Draco had not just said that, it was completely ridiculous! As far as Lucius Malfoy was concerned, That never happened and He never existed.

"Everyone kept saying that he'd gone, that he'd never be able to…to do what he done again," Draco continued fretfully. "And…and it said in your letter that he'd gone, but-"

"No!"

Draco froze and shut his mouth instantly. Lucius' face was livid and his grey eyes dangerously stormy.

"No," he repeated through gritted teeth. "No 'buts'. That is over and never to be brought up again."

Draco stared up at his father disbelievingly- not understanding. He had thought that his father had wanted to know what the problem was... and now he wasn't allowed to talk about it!

Not knowing how on earth he should continue, Draco sat stiffly in his seat- eyebrows knitted together in confusion and fiddled restlessly with the cuffs on his shirt, not daring to speak another word until he knew precisely what he was permitted to say and what he wasn't.

Lucius thought long and hard about how this should be handled; his initial response was, naturally, to dismiss the boy's fears as ridiculous. After all, William Southard couldn't possibly be in Draco's bedroom, Lucius had made sure of that. But on the other hand, nothing positive would come of doing nothing, especially as this had been the cause of Draco literally starving himself for three days...

Coming to a reasonable conclusion, Lucius sat forward and spoke slowly, taking his time. "If we talk about this now," he offered, looking his son directly in the eye, "you must give me your word that we will never discuss this again, do I make myself clear?" He noted the hesitation that crossed Draco's expression. "It must never interfere in your work, in our lives or anything else. If I allow you to talk about it now, it must never even be thought of again. Understand?"

The little boy nodded hesitantly- not really understanding but at the same time realising that there was no room for compromise.

"Very well." Lucius spoke as though he were in a meeting; dealing with adults and political issues rather than his own son who was having serious problems. "I shall begin my making something quite plain; William Southard is not in your room. I shan't go into the details, but I have ensured that he will never go near you again."

Draco opened his mouth to protest, "But Father-"

"I don't know what went on in your bedroom," the elder Malfoy continued over his son, "but whatever it was, it wasn't real. It was all in your mind."

"But I felt him!" Draco protested, forgetting his manners. The outrage he felt at the suggestion that it had all been in his head made him bolder, less cautious. "I swear I did! He was talking in my ear- whispering things- and I felt him! I'm not making it up, Father! I wouldn't!"

"I never said that you were making it up!" Lucius snapped back, annoyed at his son's tone. "I said that it is in your head! He no longer exists, therefore he can neither whisper things nor touch you. Why don't you go up and see for yourself?"

The thought of even setting foot into that room again turned Draco's blood ice-cold and Lucius noticed, with tiny pang of guilt, how white his son had suddenly turned.

"If it makes you feel better," said Lucius with a sigh. "You needn't go in there again. Your mother and I were discussing it anyway and we both agreed that, now you're getting older, you ought to have a larger room. You'll be working hard from now onwards and will be spending a lot of time in there. I don't want you getting ill from claustrophobia."

Draco's expression brightened considerably at this news- deeply relieved that his father wasn't going to force him into going back in there and hugely grateful for the consideration.

"I was thinking," the man continued, "that you could move into the West Tower. It is quite a walk, but you will have both space and peace to work in. Of course, you will have to allow more time to get from there to where you need to be in the mornings and any other time you are required but I will tolerate a certain amount of lateness until you get used to the distance."

The little boy- unable to contain himself- grinned widely, showing gaps where milk-teeth had fallen out. "Thanks," he murmured shyly. "I-I'm really grateful."

Unused to having such delight aimed directly at him- particularly from Draco- Lucius coughed and shifted in his seat, before nodding brusquely, "Good. I'll have the house-elves send your things up to the tower sometime during the day."

"Thank you Father."

"Yes. Well...it's only right. Anyway, that isn't the only thing I have to talk to you about." Lucius drew himself up and raised his chin, noticing how his son's brilliant smile faded somewhat. "As I am sure you are aware, during the next few years, you will be studying and preparing for the entrance exam which will allow you to attend Durmstrang Institute of Wizardry. You are going there, so I suggest that you get any notion of Hogwarts out of your head now."

With a small sigh, Draco nodded half-heartedly.

"The exam will not be simple," continued Lucius firmly. "You will be required to be competent in many areas and be able to use a wand confidently. In retrospect, it is probably a good thing that I am taking responsibility for your education from now on as, this way, I will make sure that you know what you are supposed to and ensure that you do not fail."

Those last three words were spoken with such force and conviction that it actually made Draco shrink down in his seat- the notion of failure instantly erased from his mind.

"You will work hard, you will do precisely what I tell you to and you will be punished if you fail to obey. However, it will be worth it in the end."

"Yes Father," Draco whispered automatically- seriously doubting it; how could being sent to a foreign school where he didn't even want to go possibly be worth it? But what choice did he have? His father had already made his mind up and Draco knew as well as anyone that when Lucius Malfoy had made up his mind about something, not even rampaging hippogriffs could sway him.

"We start tomorrow," said Lucius curtly, picking up his glasses and fiddling idly with them. "If you want a head start, I suggest browsing through the books that your mother purchased. Breakfast is at eight, although you may have five minutes to be late." He waved a hand imperiously in the direction of the door, "You may go."

Deeply relieved that he was being released- his legs were beginning to ache terribly from dangling in the air for so long- Draco was about to slide from his seat, when his father stopped him, "Draco,"

Suppressing a sigh, Draco sat down again. "Yes Father?"

"A letter for you, before I forget," Lucius picked up one of the many envelopes which littered his work space and held it, unhurriedly, out to his son. Draco reached out with one, small hand, and took it from his father's fingers. His heart skipped a beat as he recognised the handwriting which adorned the front.

Unable to mask his delight, Draco's fingers traced his address before turning it over. His grey eyes flicked questioningly to his father's face as he noticed that the seal had already been broken, but Lucius simply stared back unashamedly with a very faint shrug and Draco knew better than to mention it.

As Draco read, the tightness in his chest was relieved considerably but it was replaced by an almost painful yearning. He longed desperately to back at Spinner's End with the people who were kind to him, who treated him like a child instead of a pet and, most importantly, who he could feel comfortable around without having to worry about behaving like a perfect Malfoy...

Draco bit his lip and read it over again- as though, by never taking his eyes off the paper, he'd be automatically transported back...'I don't belong here,' the little boy realised unhappily. Why couldn't he have stayed where he was wanted and where he fit in, instead of the cold, impersonal Manor with his cold, uncaring parents? They didn't really want him- at least, not in the way that Severus and his mother and father did- and Draco didn't want to be here, so what was the point?

But, stealing a glance up at his father, Draco knew that that would never happen. As much as he hated it, Draco belonged here, this was his life and no amount of wishing would ever change that.

An overwhelming sense of hopelessness washed through the young boy's small body, making him shudder and grip the paper so tightly in his hands that it almost ripped. Tears burned his eyes, making it almost impossible to see anything, but Draco blinked them back fiercely. He wouldn't cry! Like Sir said, he had to be strong to survive and Draco was determined not to give in. If this was how things had to be, then he'd simply have to make the best of it.

'I'll show Father how good a Malfoy I can be!' he promised himself with a resolve that surprised even him. 'I will not let them break me!'

Lucius watched with interest as his son read the letter; happiness changed quickly to despondency then to utter helplessness and then a look crossed Draco's face- one which Lucius had only even seen once before on his pitiable son; an intense determination coupled with a fierce stubbornness. The same look that had appeared in Diagon Alley...

Steel-grey eyes narrowing, Lucius pursed his lips; this would not do. Any form of wilfulness would not be tolerated. But, the man thought with a thin smile, let Draco test his boundaries; let him see just how far the chain will stretch. Children, of course, are curious...but they learn quickly that if they touch a boiling kettle, they will always be burned.

"I presume," said Lucius, "that a reply is expected?"

"Yes," Draco looked stoically up at his father- almost challenging. It took all of Lucius' self-restraint not to drag the little brat over and slap the impertinence out of him immediately.

Instead, he gave his son a hard look before picking up a quill and a document he had been working on. "Do it, then. The house-elves will have your room ready in an hour."

Bowing quickly, Draco half-walked, half-ran to the door, wrenched it open and sped straight to the library- heart pounding with terrified excitement at his own audacity.

With a secret smile- which could easily have been mistaken for a smirk- Draco sat down to write his reply.

Dear Sir,

I'm alright, thank you. Better than I was, anyway. When I got home, Dr Southard was in my room-Father says it was all in my head, but I'm not so sure- and I could hear him and feel him and everything, but I did what you told me to do and I ran away. To your room, I mean, not out of the house. Father says that I can stay in the West Tower rather than my old room, so he shouldn't bother me again.

I don't need Mother to protect me from Father because I decided that I can look after myself. You said that I should remind Father that I am my own person, so that's what I'm going to do. I figured that I'm stuck here and there's nothing that I can do about that, so I may as well make the best of it. I'm going to show him how strong I can be and that I can stand up to him, like I did the other day. I'm not going to be weak or scared anymore because there isn't any point and nobody cares anyway.

We're starting studying for Durmstrang tomorrow. Father says it's going to be really hard but it'll be worth it in the end but I don't really understand how it'll be worth it when I don't even want to go to Durmstrang...I want to go to Hogwarts, with you, and you don't even need to take an exam to get in there! Why does Father want me to go to Durmstrang so bad?

Please say thank you to your mother and father for having me. I had a really really good time!

Please visit soon!

Draco.

A/N: First of all, Thank you so so much to everyone who has reviewed for the first time! It's so nice to hear from new people :) And of course, cookies to all my loyal readers!! Your time and words are always deeply appreciated!

And this chapter is dedicated to my friend Simone (harry potter princess H) who- somehow- managed to get me Alan Rickman's autograph! I heart you Monee!!

Please keep up the good work guys and I promise to update soon!

Oh by the way, I have just got a laptop (Yay!) which has a web cam and I was thinking about doing a video blog or something to that effect :) My Youtube name is (predictably) LadyLilyMalfoy, if anyone wants to go check it out...

Huggles and Ice-cream! Lily xxx