Prologue
Fate is a bit funny. Some think it’s set in stone, while others believe they write it themselves. Now if you asked what I think- I would tell you that I believe fate is always changing. One small action, one small word, one small thought, changes the way life is played out. It’s why no one, neither you reading this, nor Merlin who existed in a world of magic, knows the real future- knows their fate. I want you, my dear readers, to go on to read this story knowing everything that happens, whether it be as big as deaths or as small as steps, changes the course of fate.
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Draco Lucius Malfoy. He is a 4-year-old boy currently wandering the long corridors of Malfoy Manor. He is unaware of the significance of fate. Unaware of the different futures his life may hold. Some include the mark of a familiar snake, others include love from a lightning bolt, and some with death taking the poor boy in an endless amount of possibilities. After all, toddlers get into accidents all the time. Along with children running down the stairs or even falling out windows. Even adults who didn't watch their backs well enough. Death can take people at any time, and this boy is no different. However, it won’t do any good to crush mere children with thoughts like this.
Draco is bored. He’s been wandering the halls in hopes of finding something interesting. Mother is busy reading a new book she had gotten just yesterday at a shop in Hogsmeade. Father was in his study doing whatever grownups do there. Draco wouldn’t know, but he doesn’t care to find out. It’s not like he found the thought of getting old and wrinkly appealing- not that he would ever say that to his father’s face. Maybe he could go watch the albino peacocks. Their feathers always looked the best around this time of year, so with an activity in mind, he picked up his pace.
Maybe it was because he remembered that if he fed them right they would sometimes let him get close enough to touch them, or maybe he was just an impatient little boy, but his pace turned into a run. He liked running. He wasn’t allowed to do it because father said that it isn’t how a Malfoy should behave. They were supposed to be elegant and prideful with their chin up in strides. Though Draco didn't understand why they refused to run. It was a lot faster than walking, and besides, he was sure people liked to feel the slight breeze on their face just like he did.
If he had gone any slower he would have passed by a room slightly agar with no mind to the low shine that peaked through, however with his speed the light sent a quick glare into his vision. He immediately stopped his running and turned his head back curiously to the door. It seemed like the low shine was the only real light coming from the room that seemed to be very dark. He turned back fully and took a couple of swift steps until he met the door. Peeking in, he couldn't tell what the light was shining off of, so he opened the door a bit more. Walking inside he could see that, even though the room had no light, it seemed to be very small. It was no bigger than a train compartment.
Confusion showed on his face. He didn't know any room to be this small. Even the closets were bigger than this. It was bare of anything besides a single silver key hanging on the wall. That explained the reflected light. He was sure he had never seen this room, which was shocking considering that Draco had explored every nook and cranny of the mansion.
Though nobody needed to know that also included all those secret passages that he had seen Father use on days when he followed him. It wasn't his fault that Father had always seemed to be thinking of something. Draco just wanted to know why his father always seemed so wound up. He remained Draco of his wound-up snake toy sometimes.
Before Draco could continue with his thoughts he heard quick footsteps approaching. He recognized them as fathers. He didn't know what had come over him to seemingly make him hide behind the door. Probably the fact that this room seemed weird and his father's steps were fast enough to seem agitated. He didn't want to get in trouble, because then how would he feed the peacocks?
So he placed himself flat against the wall and made his breathing as light and infrequent as possible. Which he thought was pretty impressive considering he had just been running down the halls a few moments ago. To his relief, Father hadn't slammed the door open and squashed him into a pancake. Instead, relief left Father’s lips as he found no one in the room.
Lucius was supposed to have kept the door locked, though he would never admit to his mistake. Not even after what happened that day. He would say that Draco had somehow opened the locked door and had foolishly entered. But we’re not there yet.
Draco watched as his father walked up to the single key hanging on the wall. He mumbled something that sounded like a spell in Latin, but from what Draco saw nothing seemed to happen. He then pulled out his wand and placed it so it pointed to his left palm, before saying another spell. This time the effects of the spell were apparent as a cut formed across his palm. He held his hand above the key and squeezed his hand into a fist, which in turn forced the blood to seep out and begin to drip. It seemed to burn and sizzle up as soon as the first drop touched the key.
After what Draco would guess was 5 minutes of just staying quiet, and just watching his father’s blood continuously drip and evaporate off the key, Lucius withdrew his hand. He cast a quick healing spell and then walked back a few steps.
Draco watched in awe and curiosity as the wall crumpled down like sand. It seemed to flow like a waterfall before disappearing as it hit the ground. When the last of it disappeared, he looked onward at what the wall had been blocking. He quickly shut his eyes as he seemed to be blinded, before slowly cracking his eyes open to let them adjust to the unexpected light.
Color. So much color. So many different shades. Draco had never seen so many colors in his whole life. It was wonderful and bright. The giant room had walls that seemed to be made of shattered pieces of glass, and it took on a sort of dome shape. Each piece of glass had its own color that showed bright with pride.
It took a while before he could let his eyes look away from the sight. However, when he did he noticed his father had moved to stand in front of a platform that he hadn't noticed. It was showered in the reflection of colors and seemed to positively glow, though that wasn't what caught his eye. No. His eyes lay upon what seemed to be a sphere placed on top of the platform. All the colors seemed to be aimed at it, but the middle of the sphere seemed completely black. It reminded Draco of an eye.
Lucius didn’t seem as amazed as Draco was. He held a bored expression on his face as he moved past the platform. He held up his wand to each piece of glass and said more spells in Latin that seemed to make the light even brighter.
Draco couldn't stop himself from walking closer as his father’s back was turned. He kept his steps light and swift as he got closer to the platform. Looking around as he went, trying to take in the wonder of it all.
As he approached the platform it seemed to tower over him, but he wanted to see the colorful sphere up close. So he reached up to grab onto the edge that was just barely low enough for him to touch. He used his fingers to lift himself a bit as he jumped. It took a few tries, but he eventually got his elbow to stay on top. Using it as leverage lets him get up onto the surface.
His eyes locked onto a sphere that was now only inches away. He let his hand wander toward it and found that it was cool in temperature, despite all the light that surrounded it. It also seemed to be made of glass. He took it in his arms and cradled it in his lap while looking down to admire it.
Being distracted meant he didn't notice his father’s spell stop. As Lucius finished casting spells he turned around only to find his son holding what should have only been touched by one other person besides himself.
“Draco!? Put that down this instant! What are you doing here?!” His yelling startled Draco, who still sat at the edge of the platform. Before his father could reach him he flinched back, causing him to fall off. Bringing the glass ball with him.
The last thing he heard was the sound of shattered glass before the world went dark.