3A/N: Comment and Review! I love reading them all, but maybe review using an account? It makes it easier for me to know whether the criticism should be taken seriously :)
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Draco's Pov
Malfoy Manor
"Draco," Lucius Malfoy said smoothly as I took a seat in front of my father. "How are your lessons going, son?"
Clearing my throat quietly, I bit out, "Fine, father."
The Malfoy matriarch was behind me, a delicate hand on my shoulder. It was meant to relax me, but if anything, it merely tensed me further. Her manicured nails were practically digging into my skin, despite the suit I sported. Signature black as usual. I could say the same for the man opposite me. The Malfoy patriarch eyed me as a viper would, stalking its prey before the final move. Whirling around, I frowned once I studied my mother intently.
Her posture was stiff, her shoulders raised, and her lips set into a straight line. The wavy blond locks fell from her shoulders, the immaculate styling missing.
Was this another one of my father's infamous lectures, which she dreaded?
'My mother and I' I corrected the mistake silently, knowing I was probably correct.
She wouldn't have such cracks in her calm façade otherwise. Her right hand hung loosely beside her as I reached out to hold onto something.
The motion didn't go unseen by Lucius Malfoy.
A sneer formed on his lips as I instantly straightened, bracing myself for his harsh wording directed towards me.
Instead, he began shrugging off his jacket, leaving him in his tailored robes. His sneer never left his face as he hung up his jacket. I watched as a nonverbal command left my father as my mother gave a tiny nod, her face void of emotions.
"Mother…?" I asked hesitantly as she gently let go of my hand.
I wasn't quite sure what I saw in her eyes, but she bent low to whisper, "My strong dragon."
Smiling at her, she kissed my forehead, lingering for a moment before standing straight. She left the room in a couple seconds, and I couldn't stop the wave of loneliness that engulfed me.
It clashed with other emotions— I could feel a flare of panic spread across my body in flames.
'Stop it,' my mind hissed to me as I inhaled sharply through my nose. I was scared of my father slightly. Wasn't every kid? Though it was different this time, we were in his study. He rarely allowed me inside.
I could see why; papers were neatly stacked on top of the desk, and multiple drawers were situated in the corner. A floo at the right with an emerald bowl filled with powder. A coffee table surrounded by a couple couches. No specks of dirt were visible anywhere. Everything seemed so perfect and sharp. Nothing was out of place. Who in their right mind would allow a child to wreak havoc in such a room?
"What have you learned with your private tutors?"
His sharp voice brought my attention back to him as my mind searched for something suitable to answer with.
"Etiquette," I said, loud enough for him to hear me as he nodded, satisfied with my response.
If he was asking me about my progress, why couldn't he have done so in my mother's presence? Judging by the way his eyes fixed on me, I knew there was more.
This was just the beginning.
"Our lesson today is one of great importance," my father announced, occupying his earlier seat once again. His eyes hardened as I tried my best not to waver.
I knew that look. I had seen it before.
Once in our gardens, and once in my room.
I closed my eyes momentarily, refusing to dwell on those moments. They were…lessons. As my father had put them. Mistakes, he ensured they wouldn't occur again.
As was this one. Pushing away the building fear, I swallowed a lump in my throat. I might as well forget any chance of escaping. There was no point. If not today, tomorrow exists. He had an entire selection to choose from, and no such luck was on my side.
I watched as he cocked his head to one side before standing up once more.
"Do you understand what benefits come along with being a Malfoy?"
Instead of having an abusive father? I could see none.
Though, unless I'd like to be bruised tomorrow, I knew I had to keep my mouth shut.
I shook my head, and he growled, his eyes flashing with rage.
Scratch that; maybe a bruise or two wouldn't hurt me.
His hand shot out quickly; I didn't even have time to register the hit. I gasped softly. My hands clutched the chair, my grip intense. To the point where my pale skin started losing color. I didn't think that was possible. I closed my eyes, pained. I knew a mark would remain for a couple days, and there was no harm in a little swelling too.
I kept repeating these words to myself, hoping I would find some truth behind them.
"Stand."
I couldn't disobey him, and my legs moved by themselves, lifting me from the chair. My eyes met his as he sneered at me. "You reply to me with words."
Of course, he was insulted by my gesture. I gazed at him, clouded with shock and fear.
"Yes, father." I shook slightly, though I forced myself to remain still.
He began circling me slowly as my head hung low in disappointment. Not at him, but at myself. Was there going to be a day where I didn't make a fool out of myself?
I felt my lashes grow heavy, no doubt with the tears threatening to spill.
I couldn't cry— not in front of my father. Not in front of the man I admired yet feared. The man I wished to become someday.
"The Malfoy name holds power," Lucius murmured. "Wealth, acquaintances, respect, influence— anything one could ever dream of."
I knew there was much more, but it seemed as if he were in a rush. The drawl in his voice was gone, replaced by a tone that indicated he was in a hurry.
As time flew by, I felt a heavy burden settle on my shoulders. The rules, laws, and traditions made my head spin around in circles. There were so many ways to mess up. Although if every pureblood learned them— maybe minus the slap— and followed through, I could do the same. Or at least I hoped I could.
I observed him intensely, watching as he paused his lecture on the Sacred Twenty-Eight. My fingertips tapped against the wood in a rhythm, keeping the silence at bay. His brows were furrowed, as if he were remembering a distant memory or thought. Frowning at him, I waited endlessly for my father to continue on with the incomplete lesson.
"Son, do you remember the incident regarding the flower?" A cruel smirk danced upon his lips, and I shivered. I paused with my miniscule movements and stared directly at him.
I didn't think I could ever forget. One could wonder how an innocent flower could cause harm, but that person was definitely not me. It would never be me.
"Yes,"
It happened fast, giving me barely any time to react. His hand was at his side, his fingers twirling the wand; now his hand was extended. The wand was directed at my throat, and my father's eyes darkened.
It was always the eyes; I knew the storm brewing between us was a warning.
My eyes widened, and I automatically stepped back just to meet the wall. With my heart racing, my mind screamed at me internally to do something. Anything.
'He will not hurt you, Draco,' I chanted over and over, my palms sweating.
He wouldn't hurt me. He is my father.
'But he's already hurt you before,' my mind argued as I swallowed nervously.
He wouldn't hurt me. He is my father.
'That didn't stop him!' my mind practically yelled back.
Seconds passed by, and he hadn't moved. Not yet. His eyes were sealed shut, though I could still decipher his emotions from his entire demeanor.
Tense was the only word I could use to describe everything. There was no better way to put it.
His lids peeled back slowly, and he regarded me silently before he lowered his wand and stepped back. I fought hard to stifle the sigh, which almost escaped as my father kept his wand delicately on the table. His eyes slipped shut once again as my father massaged his forehead.
After a couple moments, he inquired softly, "Are you scared of me, Draco?"
I froze, locking into an intense staring match with him as I struggled to speak. Yes, I did carry a little fear once it came to him, but there was absolutely no way he didn't know that. It was painfully obvious.
Though, I wasn't going to admit it so simply.
'Lie, Draco.' My mind hissed. 'Use your brain for once. Remember what mother taught you, use it to your advantage.'
Licking my dry lips, I opened my mouth but no words flew out.
I started to shake my head before attempting to speak again, "I…of course not- no."
But it was weak. I was just trying to convince myself. I knew he knew I lied. Arching an eyebrow at me, he averted his gaze to stare at the flames roaring in the fireplace. Finally, he turned his head to peer at me.
There was no denying that he knew I had intentionally lied to him.
He didn't seem to care, though; he nodded absentmindedly as he settled down on his desk. "Fear is good, son; remember that." The Malfoy Lord mumbled as he removed a couple papers from the bundle and studied them. He continued to mutter words under his breath, though I couldn't hear him.
His words floated around me, though I couldn't pay attention. My mind focused on what had just occurred, and I couldn't help but stare at him.
His head snapped back to mine, and I quickly averted my gaze elsewhere. What had just happened? Extremely baffled, I watched as his attention returned to the sheets. Wringing my hands together, I edged towards the exit of his study when his voice filled the silence.
"I have some pressing matters to discuss with your mother right now," He stated, gathering the reports into a pile. "You are not to disturb us for the next hour. Perhaps an hour and thirty minutes at best."
Ah, so he did have something of value to discuss with her. I'd barely paid attention to their conversation, zoning out pretty quickly once I realized I had no part in it.
I nodded at the order as I reached out to the doorknob, pulling it open slightly. Just as I was about to close the door, I peeked through the small gap and studied my father. Not five minutes ago, he had his wand at my throat. I didn't even know the reason for that. Now, his expressions were calm and poised, and his eyes were focused on the reading material. His earlier words repeated themselves constantly in my head. Fear is good, son; remember that.
I knew I wouldn't have been able to put on a brave face, but was I really that scared? It seemed as if he were testing me. Studying my movements and expressions to determine if I feared him. Was it really that important to him?
My father snapped his fingers, and I watched as a house elf appeared. I recognized the elf as Dobby; he was my father's personal elf. Despite that, he'd allow me to use him occasionally. They all looked similar, though, with their wide eyes and large ears. It didn't matter which one reported to me.
"Master needs Dobby's help?" Dobby asked, staring widely at my father as I rolled my eyes.
My father spoke in a harsh tone, and I could see the irritation seeping into his eyes. Feeling slightly disappointed due to the fact that I couldn't hear their small conversation, I winced as he gave a good kick to the elf's side. Dobby's face contended in pain as he yelped softly. He disappeared rather quickly after that; if I had any say, it was probably to escape my father.
I considered leaving, but before I could rethink anything, I pushed the door wider. My father's face shone with shock before it turned into one of confusion.
"Before I leave, could you ask the house elves to deliver some of those pancakes we ate to my room?" I asked hesitantly, biting my lip as he frowned. "Mother asked the house elves to report any stolen sweets." I finished gloomily.
A memory of my mother reprimanding me popped into my head, and I grimaced. I hated seeing her disappointed features etched into her pretty face. I had practically begged for forgiveness, and she had merely waved it off. Until she started to conspire with the elves located in the kitchen.
My father raised an eyebrow at me before smirking. "Your mother caught you?"
At my dejected 'yes', he chuckled, "Cissy was always such a Slytherin. And I suppose I could allow you to have two more. No more than that." He warned me as I grinned widely, showing my blatant approval and happiness.
As I exited the room with a soft click, I couldn't help but continue wondering what had caused the abrupt change of heart. Although it would be a lie if I said I wasn't grateful. My shoes clicked against the marble floor as I reached the parlor.
The clouds were a dark grey, a pure indication of heavy rains approaching, and I sighed. My earlier plans for Quidditch would have to be put on hold for the time being. Staring at the fireplace with a sense of longing, I knew it wasn't possible.
My parents hadn't allowed me to visit him for more than a year now, and I wanted an answer to that. Slumping down on a leather armchair, I scowled once small rain drops started to hit the walkways of Malfoy Manor, the leaves shimmering with water so soon.
A/N 2: Forgive me for the late update. The Word document deleted a good 500 words before for some reason, and I was a little sad that my effort was gone. Also, I don't really know if I've written Lucius correctly. He was a strict parent when it came to blood purity, though he clearly had some good qualities. I think that may be one of the reasons Draco kept boasting about Lucius. If you have any recommendations, they will be greatly appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to read this chapter!