A Story of the Unrefined

~Chapter 2~

Draco's summer started out perfect, or what was perfect by his standards. His father would be gone until late August, only returning a week before school started. If only he had known what that week would entail.

Everyone knew of his father's return, long before they ever caught sight of the man. The house took on an aura of impishness and mischief when his father was gone, like the mice playing when the cat is nowhere to be found. But the moment Lucius Malfoy's boots clicked on the wooden floor of the entry hall, everything stopped. Everyone walked as quietly as possible, praying they were not heard and would not have to face the wrath of Lucius when he was in one of his moods.

Draco sat quietly at his desk, in his own way he was waiting for his father to come. If he had been asked, he couldn't have told them why, but he just knew something was going to happen. Slowly, his door creaked open.

"Draco." His father's voice was placid, but you could feel the underlying malice. "We need to talk." Draco's head rose up and he pulled his shoulders back, but he didn't make any movement to face the man. Lucius walked toward him and placed his hand on Draco's shoulder. He felt Draco's body tense at his touch and he smirked with amusement.

"Are you still afraid of me? Are you afraid of what I could do to you?" Draco made no response, there was not even a movement to acknowledge his father had spoken. Slowly Lucius's nails began to go into Draco's skin, as his grip tightened.

"Look at me, boy." Lucius spat out the words, as if considering that the recipient was nothing but utter filth. Lucius's anger mounted as his son made no move to obey. He grabbed a hold of Draco's face and twisted it toward him. Expecting to see contempt, anger, something he could punish his son for, the look of total passiveness that he received was not what he wanted. He wanted control. He needed control over his son. He needed to feel the power that gave him.

His malevolence boiled over and there was a sickening crack as he made contact with his son's jaw. Draco flinched in pain before he could hide his emotions. His father had turned away and missed the one reaction he wanted from his son. They could hear the call of Narcissa telling Lucius they had visitors. Lucius turned and sneered at his son. He twisted Draco's face toward him once more, and he could see sweat pouring down Draco's face as he tried to ignore the pain.

"Be prepared to come home for break. We will have our talk." With that, he spun on his heel and exited the room. Draco stood and leaned against the door, listening as his father's footsteps echoed down the hall.

Narcissa watched as her husband walked ornately down the stairs. His eyes filled with both mirth and loathing. Narcissa escaped the dinner party hours later to find her son being healed by one of the house-elves. Narcissa shook her head and walked out. It was a hard thing to accept that the household slaves took better care of her son then she did.

Ginny woke early on the first of September. She lay on her bed, waiting for the normal chaos that this day always brought, to ensue. The longer she lay there, she realized that only she and Ron would be going this year. There wouldn't be any Fred and George chasing her down the hallways trying to use her as an experiment.

Only her and Ron, Ron, the brother closest to her in age, the most overprotective of the bunch, at times they seemed so alike and yet, they were always so different. They were always the most picked on. He was the youngest boy, and she was the youngest and the only girl. They both had their private little fears. He was afraid of spiders, and she was afraid of the dark. Their tempers were their most easily spotted differences. While he was quick to spout off and always was fiery and forceful, she was much more likely to hit people with an icy wrath that seemed to stay with them longer.

She didn't really want to go to the school this year. Nothing would be the same. The Quidditch team would be nothing, only retaining two members now that everyone else had graduated the previous year. Her only remaining brother was caught up with his friends, much more than he spent talking to her. She wasn't truthfully close with any of the other ones anyway. She leaned back, and tried to think of one good aspect of going back to school. Slowly, the unbidden thought of Draco flickered through her mind, but she shook her head appalled at the thought. They might have been civil with each other at the end of the year. She might not have considered him an enemy anymore, but they certainly weren't friends of any way, shape, or form.

Ron slowly opened her door. Staying in a position that he could easily run, if he happened to find his sister in an awkward position. He was surprised to find her sitting atop her packed trunk, prepared to leave at any moment, deep in thought. He walked over to her, and sat down on her bed.

"What's wrong, Gin?" She jumped, startled by his voice, but then smiled at him.

"Nothing. I was just thinking." Ron took that as answer enough and didn't press her. He stood, smiled at her, then ruffled her hair. If she had not just been pondering how grateful she was to have him around, she could see herself clearly telling him off for such an act. She pulled the brush through her hair once more and began to pull her trunk down the stairs.