nothing i wont do anymore

the boggart in the closet

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry 1996.

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Draco Malfoy could be called many things. Privileged, pure blooded, pompous even. But disloyal was not one of them. To his school 'friends' yes, but not to his family. Now or ever. No matter the cost.

They had always been close, the three of them. That's something you just have as an only child. And of course, they adored him- he was their pride and joy. The sun rose with him in the morning and set with him in the evening.

Their closeness was not just out of love but out of necessity. After the Dark Lord's first fall, they needed to be safe now more than ever. Lucius had been exempt from the imprisonment other Death Eaters had received- a snake in the grass, slithering right between the cracks of the Ministry's very foundation and back to his family. Narcissa was in a state of constant worry- what if Voldemort was to return and direct his fury towards her family like he had done with the Potter's? Lucius had reminded her they were no tractors. That and their boy was born in June, not July.

But she was protective nevertheless. Draco enjoyed holding his mother's hand as a boy and often found any excuse to walk with her. Whether it be walking through the grounds in summer to cut some fresh flowers for fathers return or a trip to Diagon Alley when he knew if he asked her exactly four times with his best manners she would always relent and pass him a chocolate frog to enjoy on the journey home. One squeeze was almost like their silent 'I love you'. Sometimes he would squeeze her hand twice just so she knew for certain.

But the evenings were Draco's favorites. It was their own special hour, the one after supper and before father returned home, where his mother would tell him the most wonderful stories- of wizards and princes, dragons, soldiers who used their wand like a sword to save their families from certain peril. He drank up her every word and decided he liked her best when her eyes lit up in the way that they did when she was reciting a story or looking at his father.

And then they would play- he the knight and her the wicked wizard or dragon, chasing him around the drawing room, climbing on the sofa where she was ultimately slain by his princely might before he collapsed into fits of laughter in her arms. And she would laugh and kiss his head and remind him that she loved him the most.

Sometimes his father would be in the doorway watching them by the time they had sat up, and Draco would stand like a proper wizard, like he had seen his father do a hundred times as his mother went to him, kissing his cheek and taking his hand. Sometimes Lucius was tired and he beckoned his son over with a nod and a wave of his hand to wish him goodnight before sending him up to bed. But sometimes, if he had left early or had enjoyed a firewhisky before coming home he would scoop up Narcissa who squealed in mock protest and become the evil half blood wizard himself, taking the pure blood queen and rushing away with her. This was the game Draco loved the most as he chased him, immersed in the battle completely, determined to impress both his father and mother with his power and might as he vanquished the blood traitor.

But one night when he was six- almost seven years old he chased after his father as fast as he could, stretching out his arm with all his might eager to catch him by the hem of his shirt. He could hear his mother laughing from where she was 'trapped' in their bedroom. He was so eager to get to her that he didn't notice the bunch in the hallway run until he had fallen half way down the stairs because of it.

But Lucius had seen the entire thing- too far away to catch the boy but not quick enough to draw his wand and stop it. Narcissa had appeared in the hallway at the sound. Draco remembered feeling alarmed that her laughter had turned to screaming. He remembered her hands were cold as she held onto him, talking softly and holding him tightly as his father yelled for assistance. A cut on his head and bruising over his arms and shoulders was the worst of that incident, but suddenly there weren't any more games of dragons, queens or knights at home anymore.