My Father Will Hear About This!

Written for The Great 2021 Prompt Compendium.
Prompt 45: Write a 750-word fic about Draco Malfoy. (I'll accept between 700 and 800 for this because word counters act up.)

Wordcount: 749

There wasn't much that Draco didn't complain about. He was only five years old, and yet every time he took a tumble, every time the house elf served him something he didn't like, every time it rained when he wanted to play outside, the child started crying and screamed, "My father will hear about this!"

Which was quite a sight actually, seeing him plop down on his bottom in the pouring rain, screeching and waving his fists at the dreary clouds above, as if telling his father that it was raining would do any good.

One morning little Draco was playing on the stairs, which he had been told time and time again that shouldn't be doing in the first place. Malfoy Manor had several grand staircases, with high quality banisters that were perfect for sliding on. So whenever his parents weren't looking, the boy scampered off as quickly as he could, trying to escape the watchful eye of their house elf so he could slide down the banisters.

Snickering to himself, the child stood with his fingers in his mouth, drooling down the front of shirt while gazing up at the banister. He glanced over his shoulder, looking down the corridor on the left. There was no sign of his parents, and so he stood on his tip toes, reaching over and gripping the banister with both hands.

He didn't realize that his wet fingers wouldn't be able to hold on tight, and when he tried lifting his leg over the side of the banister, he slipped and tumbled down the stairs.

Down he rolled, bouncing and hitting every other step, which was thankfully covered in a luxurious emerald green carpet. This carpet was enough to cushion the blow, and by the time the child reached the bottom of the staircase, he was still alive, though he was very much battered and bruised.

Dobby the house elf arrived on scene just moments after the boy came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. He knelt beside the child, seeing the little boy lying face down on the carpet.

The house elf nervously wrung his hands, fearing not only for the child's safety but for his own. Lucius would tan his hide with the business end of his cane if anything happened to his precious son. But then the child began to move, groaning softly as he lifted his head off the floor.

"Is you alright, young master?" Dobby asked, gently placing a hand on the boy's forehead. He brushed aside a lock of hair, revealing a bump on the child's noggin. The area was only slightly swollen, with the tiniest of scratches directly above his left eyebrow. And yet it was enough to make the child scream as though he'd had his leg amputated.

Draco sniffled and whimpered, his bottom lip trembling. He then took a deep breath and shouted, "My father will hear about this! And I'll tell him it's all your fault because you pushed me!"

"What?!" Dobby started and took a step back, his ears drooping and his eyes wide. He cowered in fear, thinking that Lucius would believe anything his son told him. After all, this was his precious Draco. How could the boy ever tell a lie? How could he ever be wrong?

And then he heard it, the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. With a flourish of his lavish cloak, the platinum blond wizard swept through the manor. Only this time he completely ignored the trembling house elf, and with one swift movement he stepped over Dobby, scooped up his son and said, in a rather stern voice, "Your father has already heard about this. Be quiet, you little devil; the entire countryside can hear you."

"B-but daddy," Draco whined, sniffling as he clung to his father. "I just wanted to play!"

"Humph! And on the stairs again, I see," Lucius huffed, carrying the boy upstairs and to his room. "I warned you about sliding down the banister, young man. You could have broken your neck."

"But the house elf - "

"Had nothing to do with it," Lucius snapped, interrupting his son.

Dobby raised his ears slightly, looking somewhat hopeful. Maybe this wouldn't turn out as badly as he thought.

Needless to say, this was not the sort of reaction Draco was expecting. He was used to calling for his father whenever something went wrong, and for the first time his scheme had actually backfired on him.