'Daddy! Daddy!'
7 year old Draco Malfoy screamed in excitement as his dad entered the manor's grounds after a day of work. He loved how the sun would hit his daddy's smiling eyes making the entire scene seem like a dream and he knew he would not trade his life for anything in the world. He watched as his father walked into their house and waited in anticipation for what his daddy would think of the surprise he had in store for him.
He took his daddy to an enclosed part of the gardens where he had had the house elves prepare tea for them both. There were scones, crumpets and a huge teapot filled to the brim with tea. He watched as his daddy's smile grew as they took in their surroundings. As the sun set, the Malfoy boys felt closer to each other than they ever had. Draco had enjoyed being in his father's presence, gossiping as if tomorrow would never arrive and it soon became a tradition where the two boys would have tea while the sun set and they would share their deepest secrets. Draco found out how his daddy had met, and later fell in love, with his mummy and Lucius knew about how Draco had a passion for drawing and he had a journal where he doodled in. Nobody else had a stronger connection than those two.
He loved his daddy.
His daddy loved him.
Draco was 10. It had been six months since his dad had arrived for his tea parties. The first month, he remembered bitterly, he had set everything up and sat there waiting for his dad to come to the table. Once the sun finally retired for the day, he dejectedly picked himself up from the floor but he still hoped. Hoped that next time would be better.
Sadly as the months passed, his hope was slowly leaving him. Was he not important anymore? His mum still showered him in love but it still wasn't the same. Nothing was anymore. After almost a year, he went to the garden with a basket filled with treats. He looked at the overgrown hedges while he sat on the unkempt grass and ate the snacks he had brought but he couldn't watch the sunset as the hedges blocked the view. He never drew in his journal again.
He loved his dad.
His dad... tolerated him.
'Mother I got my Hogwarts letter!'
Draco came bounding down the stairs, only to have an all too familiar cane hit his knees, causing him to crumple to the floor in pain.
'What have I told you Draco?'
'Not to run down the stairs.'
'Haven't I made myself clear?'
'Yes, father'
He limped his way to his mother, head hung low as the joy of receiving his letter seeped out of him. His father doesn't care about the letter. His father didn't care about him.
When he had gone to Diagon Alley, he met a scruffy boy with cracked glasses and couldn't help but sneer. Watching the boy stutter over his words gave him a false sense of superiority allowing him to take out all the anger and pain bottled up in him that was originally directed at his father.
Seeing Harry Potter on the train, Draco couldn't help but wonder why he was such a mess in Diagon Alley. What would father have said if he had been there? Would he have thanked him for defeating You-Know-Who? Or would he have scoffed at his audacity for defeating the Dark Lord? It was no secret that his father worked for the dark wizard. Draco has witnessed many Ministry officials come and question his father's allegiance. He was scared as he would watch his father break down by the fireplace, rocking himself back and forth while trying to stem the flow of tears, thinking he was alone. He wanted to hug him and take some of his father's burdens but he knew it wouldn't be acceptable.
When the hippogriff cut him, he screamed the first thing he could think of, 'MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!' But he knew his father didn't care. His father would label it as another burden. Draco thought that keeping the cast may gain his father's attention and it did, but his father only cared about his reputation, not him.
When he arrived back home, he sat in the part of the garden where he held his most treasured memories and he broke. He cried for his lost father. He cried for his lost love. He cried for his lost childhood.
But he still loved his father.
His dad used him as an asset.
After his father was imprisoned in Azkaban, Draco was forced to take up his position and he finally understood why his father was so strict, why he was so unforgiving. He was scared of love in a world full of darkness. He was scared of his past. He was scared of the future. He was scared of the Dark Lord. But he still didn't understand why he was hit every time he messed up. Why the cane would hit his knees if he had one toe out of line. Weasley's mother had sent him only a howler when they caused the whole car fiasco. If he had done it, his knees would have never survived the punishment. Why him?
Watching Dumbledore fall was like watching his innocence leave him. He may have made many snarky comments at the man but he would...will never kill anyone for the wrong reasons. He wasn't a monster...or was he? He bullied vulnerable students for no reason apart from escaping his abusive household. He tormented Potter and his friends just because he was jealous. Jealous of the family that they had, that they had created. He was becoming his father.
Because he loved his father.
His father used him to discipline him
Watching the Dark Lord announce Potter's death hit all of them. He heard McGonagall and the female Weasley's screams reverberate in the silence and watched in awe as Longbottom stood up to the most powerful dark wizard since Grindelwald. He couldn't help but feel the raw fear in his bones, thinking that the entire Wizarding community is in danger and that's when it hit him. His father was so strict because they had more at stake. If he had crashed a car into a tree, their already fragile image could have been shattered. If he had shown any remorse, Voldemort would have used Draco as a tool. He already did because of his father's slip up but if his father had publicly shown his love, he would have gone through a lot more danger and suffering. Draco finally understood his father's motives, and he forgave him.
He loved his father.
His father cared about him.
It had been five years since the Battle of Hogwarts. He and his father sat in their secluded part of the garden, eating in comfortable silence when an earsplitting crash echoed throughout the estate. When they rushed back in, they saw that the ministry officials had broken into the manor for an unauthorised raid. It was soon evident that the current minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt, had no idea what was happening. Even after the ministry's complete transformation, there were still a handful of corrupt politicians. After a few minutes of his father arguing with the officials, it soon escalated into a brutal duel and Draco, not knowing what to do, cowered next to the table.
'I love you.'
'Avada Kedavra!'
He heard the unmistakable thump of a dead body behind him and turned to see his father falling, gracefully, to the floor, with his last words etched in the form of a loving smile on his face.
Suddenly, time slowed down. Draco's chest constricted in the most painful ways possible. His guts started rebelling in his own body and his mind went into overdrive as he finally understood what just happened. His dad sacrificed his life for him. The curse was for him and his dad took it. At that moment he finally understood.
He loved his father.
His father loved him.
He was buried in the same garden where Draco shared so many heartfelt moments with him. The hedges were trimmed and the grass was mowed to perfection and a variety of flowers were planted around the grave. Draco held back tears as his father was lowered into the ground as he had to be strong for his mother. She knew what happened and she didn't blame Draco. She knew how much her husband loved their son and all that he sacrificed for his safety.
Every month, Draco Malfoy went to his father's grave with a basket of savouries and would sit next to the grave watching the sunset and on the sixth visit he uttered the words that he wanted to utter since his father had died.
'I loved you only two times...now and always.'