Born into it - Draco Malfoy x Male Reader

Chapter 1.

It was a calm autumn day, leaves lightly spinning around the pavement near the large manor. There were light drops of rain against the tinted windows and the house on the hill looked regal as ever. Even in the dull weather the manor looked quite impressive. The home itself had been in the Silvertongue family for years and no one was prouder of that than the current owner of the house.

After a long day at the ministry, Alaric Silvertongue had arrived home. The flying car had been parked in the driveway and he had rushed inside, even managing to forget his briefcase in the car. He had met an old friend that day, a thing that didn't happen to Alaric all that often. At home waited (M/N), Alaric's son and his doting wife Vesta. (M/N)'s father didn't have an awful lot of friends, always being busy and all, so the young boy was a bit taken back when his father came home with the exciting news.

(M/N) was busy enjoying dinner with his mother, when his father entered the room. He was barely even out of his fancy coat by the time he made it to the dinner table. (M/N)'s father could be described in many ways, but it normally wasn't in the most positive of ways. He knew they came from a prominent full blood family and he was rather proud of that. Some people might have called him arrogant, perhaps even snobby, but the head of the Silvertongue house didn't seem to care one bit.

When Alaric finally did take off his coat and sit down, he was beaming with excitement. His normally monotone face now held a smile and the grey streaks in his hair seemed a strange silver. The man seemed much more alive. When Alaric turned to (M/N)'s mother, he leaned on the table in front of him, grinning only wider.

"You remember my old friend Lucius, don't you dear?" Alaric spoke, though before Vesta could even answer, he continued. "The one who married Narcissa. You remember Narcissa, I know you too were close," He urged, running a hand through his now much messier hair.

The two continued to go on and on for a bit, reminiscing back and forth of their time at Hogwarts. Both (M/N)'s parents had been in Slytherin during their time and even though (M/N) was only seven years old, he knew full well of the responsibility that rested on his shoulders. Because he was the Silvertongue heir that was going to continue their name, their proud Silvertongue name. One day he'd have children of his own and they'd once again carry on the name. It was the way it had always been, and it was destined to stay that way. (M/N) knew that.

"Well, I bumped into him, just earlier. They've got a son now, about the same age as (M/N)," Alaric explained casually, (M/N) perking his head up from dinner. He was usually not one for listening in on his parents' conversations, so he had been casually eating while they talked until his father brought up his name.

"It's your lucky day, son. We've been invited for dinner tomorrow, at the Malfoy manor. Last I was there I was barely in my teens," Alaric chuckled softly, casually eating while talking. Vesta looked curiously up. (M/N) usually didn't come along for dinners like that, so even Vesta was taken by surprise for the moment being. "So, we'll bring (M/N) along? I mean, we could always get a sitter, even if it's a little late," She urged.

Alaric quickly shook his head. "No, no, he's coming along, there's no doubt about it. He can meet Lucius and Narcissa's son. Uh, Draco, his name is," He explained. "That way (M/N) can make a new friend for when he goes to Hogwarts. He'll know good families to associate with."

(M/N) looked up, curious at his father's words. He knew some wizarding families were better than others already now. Every proper fullblood wizarding family knew there were certain guidelines to life. Such as not associating with mudbloods or even worse, fullblood wizarding families that did. (M/N)'s father had always taught him that they were a disgrace to being fullblood and as the naive seven-year-old he was, he believed him. Even then, the (blonde, ginger, ravenette, brunette) didn't speak. He had always been taught to be quiet if not spoken to and that carried on even when he was just at home. Besides, the boy didn't have much he wanted to say anyways.