Dreams and Realities

Draco hated apparating. He hated the way it made him dizzy and give him a throbbing headache just because of magic. Funny how this was 'one of the most convenient spell'. Draco arrived at an unknown place. It was dark and gloomy, giving Draco a dangerous vibe. Draco took a step back at the big gate when pushed forward his father. Father just stared sternly at him before knocking... on the gate? The surrounding was silent for a few moments, as though "processing" the presence of Father. Soon enough, the gate flung open, allowing entry to Draco and his Father.

They entered the building and as soon as Draco stepped foot into it, the whole atmosphere seemed to change completely. It was colder, darker, and gave a dangerous vibe. Draco shivered at the cold wind that greeted Draco's small and thin figure. His father ignored him and continued forward. The hallway was long and had many moving portraits of people he didn't know hung up on the walls of them. They walked along a red carpet and occasionally come across a side table with either two or four drawers with a vase of flowers on it. Draco was much behind his father, dragging his own trunk that was far too heavy for him. Draco's small feet carried him, though they started feeling numb.

His father turned around a corner and Draco was alone. He panicked and quickly turned back to his trunk, pulling at it, trying triangulation his pace. Was his father abandoning him and making him navigate the unknown building by himself? Draco tugged at the trunk, tears forming in his eyes. No, Draco was a brave boy, he wouldn't cry, he can navigate by himself. He was a big boy. Yes, yes he was.

Draco huffed. Around this age, most Sacred Family's heirs would have received their own unregistered wand for practise before Hogwarts. But Draco, as once said before, hadn't shown any signs of magic, not even accidental ones. Draco was a strange child. He didn't get other people- kids and why they were so fascinated by magic, the world. It was boring. Everything was. The whole world. His life.

Yes, seven-year-old Draco found his life boring. Useless. His life never meant anything in particular. It only revolved around Severus, who could've gone by his life without Draco; his mother, who loved him so much but she could have another child, right? Draco was just someone in her life that could easily be replaced. Draco wasn't significant, he'd done nothing for her; then there's the house elves. They could find other people to work for, it wasn't that hard to forget Draco anyway.

"Pa- Dad-?" Draco's call faltered. No. Wh- what does Draco call him. What does Draco call his father? The last time he remembered actually calling his father was... Years ago. Properly. Now, he didn't know what to call him. His father scolded him for every word he said, even just one word when he wanted to talk to him. He never once tried to call him by his role. Even when he was being hit, abused. He'd read in books, kids who call their fathers 'Papa', 'Dad', 'Daddy', but it felt too informal and that Draco would be punished for it. Then... "Father!"

For a while now, a Draco hadn't heard his father's footsteps. But, when he heard footsteps, his head jerked up. Right in front of him was his father. An unfamiliar yet comfortable warmth filled Draco's chest, red running up his neck. His father came back for him.

His father, Al though his eyes and gave was still hard, but Draco could see that it had softened a bit - not that anyone who was unfamiliar with his father could see. He rolled his eyes. He slowly ripped Draco's fingers from the trunks handle and picked up the trunk and walked away from Draco. Draco stared stunned at his father's back. His father stopped then. He turned, that same grey eyes looking into Draco's own. "Come on." It wasn't cold. It wasn't angry. It was soft. It was definitely new. That tone of his father he'd never heard before. But, it was now one Draco wants to hear. This may be the only time he hears his father being nice, but it was a nice experience.

Draco dragged his little legs and padded behind his father.

The more they went deeper into the building, the colder Draco felt. All he wore was a suit, a size too big on him yet looked like it fit him with some adjustments of the tie and overlay. He tucked his hands into the pockets of his trousers and shivered slightly.

He tried to keep his pace but it was cold. After the fire incident, Draco hadn't felt cold in a long time. Draco ran to his father. But as soon as he reached a metre radius of his father, it immediately felt warm. His father casted a warming spell on himself but not on Draco. His father was cold. Draco was too. Draco chewed on his bottom lips. How cold was it that his father couldn't handle it but Draco could - slightly?

"F- Father-"

"Get rid of that stutter, boy," His father snapped. He then proceeded to grab on Draco's collar, tugging him forward. Draco's heart skipped a beat as he landed in front of his father's shoes. He grunted, hands landing on his ankle from landing wrong. His ankle hurt. But it wasn't as bad as his father's cold feature. If looks could harm, Draco would be in St. Mungo's.

His father kicked his back before starting to walk again. For another fifteen minutes or so, it was nothing but silence and coldness. They've been walking for approximately forty-five minutes and finally, his father stopped in front of a door. The door stood put from the rest they'd come across. The door was gold, decorated with designs of snakes. His father dropped the trunk by a table and knocked on the door.

Knock-pause-knock-knock-pause-knock.

No one answered. Draco thought he saw a flicker of irritation on his father's face but it disappeared as soon as he noticed. Draco was just above his father's waist and the door handle was right in his face. Draco saw a keyhole and poke it with his finger. He pocked it again. And again. Then his father slapped his hand away, hissing at him. "Don't." A warning. Draco gulped and took a step back.

Knock-pause-knock-knock-pause-knock.

This time, someone answered. It was muffled to Draco but his father must've heard it well enough. Draco was younger, why was his hearing worse? Maybe it was just a fluke. His father's hands landed on the handle and he pushed the door open.

The room as smaller that Draco expected. A lot smaller. Four steps to the left and he'd hit a wall. Seven steps to the left and he'd hit a wall. Ten steps forwards and he'd hit the book shelf behind a small desk. At least Draco would feel cold now since his father's Warming Charm radiates to one metre radius. The desk was as messy as one could be. Papers stacked high. If Draco stood on it, his head might've touched the ceiling. Then seated behind the desk however, looked younger than his father. His features, figure, nothing like Draco had ever seen. He was flawless. His black hair hung around his eyebrows, back hair reaching his shoulders. He looked nice. Harmless. And he was definitely taller than his father. Draco felt like he couldn't move, his eyes just staring disrespectfully at him. "Draco!" His father whispered-yelled. Draco snapped back to reality and hung his head low in embarrassment.

"Leave it, Lucius. He's a child. He's... How old?"

"Seven, sir." 'Sir'. He spoke formally. Must be someone high of status.

"Seven..." The man got up from his seat and approached Draco. He knelt in front of Draco. "Draco, right?" Draco shyly nodded his head. "Look at me, love," Then used two fingers and placed it under Draco's chin, lifting them to make Draco look at him. Draco's pupils dilated for a bit before blushing. They were less than five centimeters apart, noses almost touching. The man smiled at Draco. The most dashing and lovely smile after his mother's. "Hello, love. Nice to meet you." Draco's tongue felt soft and heavy, he froze. All he did was blinking more than one should and his eyes kept shifting about, analyzing the man's features- face.

"You need not go soft on him, sir."

"Leave it, Lucius," The man turned back to Lucius. The black-haired stood up and bent over. He reached out a hand. Draco stared blankly at it. He chuckled. It didn't sound mean or cruel. It sounded genuine. Draco looked back up at him. "Love, I'm Auski Quuere, pleasure to meet you." A smile. Draco gave a small smile and put his small hand on Quuere's, shaking it slowly. "And it's Auski, alright?"

"Sir-"

"I didn't ask you, Lucius." His father gave a nod and stepped back. Draco bobbed his head slightly. "Okay."

Lucius left soon after leaving his son in Auski's care. Auski was no fan of Lucius. He'd never liked Lucius from the day he'd met him. Or even long before. He was a stuck up man who just wanted power. He'd thrown his family aside and buried himself in the social world. It would benefit him, yes, but it'd also affect him — his family. Auski likes the kid, Draco, but his father no.

When the kid entered, he felt like he'd been blessed. The kid was fuc- fricking adorable. Draco's presence warmed Auski. The kid was a hit taller than any average child but was definitely thinner than how a normal child should be. For the next few minutes, he'd observed the father-and-son. He'd seen how Draco cowered under Lucius' commands and shy away. But no, Auski wouldn't allow that. The child had more potential that anyone knew. Auski could feel it. Draco would become someone powerful one day, but only if not under his father's influence of course.

Auski stepped towards the child. The seven-year-old. Then it struck him. The clothing of the child was as thin as it could be and he knew just how cold the building was. Wasn't the child cold? He hadn't felt any warmth radiating off of Draco — Lucius hadn't tried to warm the child, like he was asking for Draco's death. This heartless man. Auski almost swore under his breath but halted himself at the sight of the child's innocent eyes. "Well, Draco, from today, you'd be staying with me. There are other children around here so you won't be lonely. But I'd be here still. Alright," Auski clasped his hands together. "let's show you around!" At the cheerful tone of Auski, the child flinched with widen eyes before bobbing his head excitedly. They'd get along well. Besides, Auski loved kids. Especially Draco. And he thinks that his stay would be an unforgettable one.

Draco toddled beside Auski. Auski had slowed down when he'd noticed that Draco couldn't walk that fast. It was cute watching Draco trying to catch up with him but he wasn't heartless like someone. He'd cast a Warming Charm earlier and caught how the child relaxed and became less tense. But of course, still tense. Like, this was an unfamiliar place to the child, who would be be scared?

Auski is in his early twenties, far too young to be of higher status than even a Malfoy. Auski had overcome many challenges and impossible things just to get himself where he was today. He knew what it was like to be in Draco's place. He never had a childhood. It was just all about trying to survive. That's why he'd set up this place. A place where children like Draco could come to. It wasn't what Lucius thought, A Place for Discipline, it was all a lie. The Sacred Twenty-Eight, these Pure-Bloods were too aggressive and didn't know how to actually teach children properly. They are abusive and that would cause problems later in the future. He'd lied to them, he'd risked it. Those who sent their children here wanted their children to 'submit' to them, but this place was for children. Where they could experience an actually childhood without their bloody inhumane parents. Kids suffer too much these days because of what was set  in the past. Because of their ancestors who thought it was right. He could blame some of them as well, they were raised that way, but Pure-Bloods were too full of themselves and it was about time they realised that.

Auski stopped in his tracks and offered a hand. The child, once again, stared blankly. "Hold my hand, lets walk together, yeah?" Auski offered his best and brighter smile. Draco blushed but grabbed on to his hand and  arm protectively. Auski almost cooed but just grinned. It was going to be a good year.