Draco
“Remember what we have talked about so far, Draco.”
Draco stood at the foot of his massive bed, eyes having been roaming his large room to make sure everything needed was packed up and nothing was forgotten when his father interrupted his thoughts. A tilt of his head and a slight turn brought his gray eyes to meet with his father's harder, colder gaze. The eyes of a hard man who expected much, and gave nothing freely. The kind of man who would chose to exploit his own sons friendships.
“Yes, father. I remember.” Of course he remembered. Since meeting Harry in Diagon Alley he had been talked to and lectured. Reminded of his duty to his family at every turn. Befriend the Potter boy, his status as an infant hero would elevate their own status in the wizarding world. Guide him in society, help him make the 'right' contacts. Help him make up for the curse of a mudblood mother. Use him. Train him.
It made him feel sick inside, just as it did every time his father spoke of Evie. Spoke of Pansy, Greg and Vince. Of everyone in his circle of friends. It made him sick to think of how in his father's mind they were all pawns on a chess board to be manipulated into moving as he wanted them to be. An analogy Evie had once made, and one Draco kept trying to get out of his mind. But more and more now... he couldn't. Despite his overwhelming urge to please his father.
“Good. I will look forward to hearing from you. Do your best to influence both him and Evelyn as well. Slytherin will make is easier for you to mold Potter as needed, and Evelyn... well, it would not do for a Malfoy to be connected to intimately with a Hufflepuff. Remember, you are the future of the Malfoy Line. You must always act in a way to bring honor and glory to our name. Do nothing to dirty it.”
Drco had to look away from his father and covered the angry look on his face by moving to his trunk and closing it, giving his father his back, trying to act as nonchalantly as possible. And once he was in control of his emotions her faced his father properly. “And if Evie ends up in Hufflepuff? What then? Am I to abandon her?”
Draco watched as one of his father's sculpted brows rose up. “It'd be best to prevent that from happening, Draco, don't you think?”
“I will not abandon my friendship with her!” Draco rashly replied with before he could stop himself, fists clenched at his side and voice raised to his father. It was only to be exected when the back of his father's hand met his cheek, making Draco see stars briefly.
“Remember your place, son. I will not suffer an upstart.” Was the cold, unfeeling reply from his father, followed by the whisper of the older man's robes as he swept out of the bedroom. “I will send your mother to tend to you face.”
Draco stood there, face turned from the blow still, eyes burning with tears he fought... and failed to keep back as they slowly slipped down his cheeks. Anger and shame burned his cheeks hotly. Anger over his unfeeling father and how he was so lacking compared to Evie's own father, and shame over failing to control his emotions, further proving himself a failure at being the son Lucius demanded of him.
He moved from his spot by the door after a few moments and went to the large bay window in his room, sitting on the window seat and looking out over the garden below, the ever present white peacocks moving about as if they owned the grounds.
All too soon he heard the soft, whispering steps the heralded his mother followed by a gentle hand on his shoulder. A silent touch beconing for his attention, and he gave it. He turned in his seat, looking up at his mother.
Narcissa Malfoy, previously Black. She was beautiful, to be sure. Though to Draco's eyes it was more than that. Since he was a young child, after first learning of Angels, he had always thought of her as such. Even now, at eleven, he still did. An angel, beautiful and just out of reach. Affectionate in her own way, with touches and expressions only he could decipher. He may envy Evie her loving and openly affectionate mother at times, but he loved his mother fiercely. Her love was enough for him.
“Oh, my boy,” his mother said softly as her smooth, soft fingers oh so lightly touched his injured cheek. “Must you anger your father so?”
“I'm sorry, mother,” was Draco's equally soft reply, gray eyes lowering from his mother's dark blue, soft gaze.
“I know.” Draco felt more than saw his mother take a seat beside him, eyes still downcast. He didn't look up until he was wiping the tears from his cheeks. He tried not to wince when she touched his injured cheek with the soft kerchief. “I worry about you. Our world is not kind, and you are my Light. So much emotion inside of you, so soft of heart. Oh no, don't you speak up now. I'm your mother, no one knows you better than I. So don't deny it.”
He had opened his moth to deny his mother's words. To refuse them, but he stayed silent when she pressed her finger to his lips. Instead he lowered his eyes again as she pulled out a small container of cream made by his godfather and applied it to his cheek, the cream immediately causing his skin to tingle as it began to heal.
“Just be careful, my little dragon. Keep Evie close, no matter what. She is a true friend, and people like us? We need friends like them. Do not make the mistakes of your parents and drive her away if she ends up in Hufflepuff, or any other House. Do not fall to the curse of Slytherin. I regret, every day, losing my friendship with my cousin, Sirius. And your Godfather, I know he regrets the loss of Lily Evans greatly, the one true friend he had, young Potter's mother.” Draco looked up at her sharply then, never having heard this before, and was met with a smile from his mother. “Do not let on you know, its for him to share with Potter. As for your father? Well, he and Severus use to be much closer in their youth... a closeness that became lost in a fools war. Yes Draco. A fool's war. All war is foolish, I think that is the opinion of most women. Anything that threatens the lives of your loved ones is foolish.” Draco's eyes closed when, after his mother was done applying the cream, she then leaned in to kiss his forehead.
“I'll remember,” Draco replied with, eyes opening again to find his mother standing already. She touched his shoulder again and slipped the small container in a hidden pocket.
“We leave for the train in fifteen minutes. Be sure you're in the foyer with your trunk and Hephaestus in his cage.”
“Yes, mother.”