The Son of the Death Eater

Chapter One

Father said once that Azkaban was a very cold and miserable place. It was one of the few times when he didn't lie.

Azkaban is a very cold and miserable place, especially when those hooded Dementors march near your prison cell, feeding on your emotions and feelings. I heard from one of those short-lived Defence Against the Dark Art teachers in Hogwarts once that anyone who ended up in Azkaban loses their mind within a year. With good reasons, that is, and I can now see the reasons, yes, Azkaban is a very cold and miserable place.

I looked down at my watch. It was one of the few processions I still had with me that the ministry did not steal from me after my capture. It was eight twenty eight. Damn. The Dementors will be making another patrol around my cell in two minutes. They always did and they were never late.

I could hear their footsteps echo from far away. They were coming, and so were some distant memories that I thought I had long forgotten...

A young blond haired boy, no more than five appeared from one of the many rooms in the Malfoy Manor and walked up the stairs to his mother obediently, "You called mother?"

"Yes," Narcissa said softly. She began slowly, "Draco, I want you to promise me one thing. Will you promise your mother one thing?"

Draco thought for a moment before replying truthfully, "Does this have anything to do with eating too much candy because I know I cannot promise you if you tell me not to eat any more chocolate frogs." He was addicted to chocolate frogs.

Narcissa gave his son one of her rare smiles and patted his head gently. "No Draco, I am not making you promise me not to eat any more chocolate frogs. You can eat as many as you want and when you want more just tell Dobby to get more. That is as long as you get your nurse to clean your teeth with cleaning spells every night." Draco smiled in relief. He could not live without chocolate frogs. He could not imagine life without them either.

"So Draco will you promise me one thing?" Narcissa asked again. Young Draco nodded slowly. His mother smiled again. "Will you promise me to be nice to everyone else if I send you to a school? They may not know how to use magic but they know a lot of stuff that you can learn from."

"I am going to school mother?" Draco asked. For as long as he could remember his father hired a tutor to teach him, refusing to send him to a school for some strange reasons Draco could not remember.

"Yes dear. I am sending you to school. You need to be around people your age more. A tutor can only teach you the knowledge in the books, but a school will teach you people skill and stuff from books. I will be sending you to a Muggle school in England Draco in two weeks."

Draco looked at his mother quizzically. He couldn't quite believe his ears. A Muggle school?

Narcissa laughed at her son's expression and repeated herself, "Yes, a Muggle school Draco. But a wizard will be teaching the class. You can learn about math and science and read and write. They don't teach these skills in wizard schools. All they teach you is how to use magic."

"But I like magic. I want to know how to do magic!" young Draco interrupted abruptly.

"In time dear. They don't teach five year olds magic," Narcissa said in a soothing voice, "Don't worry, you will go to Hogwarts when you are old enough."

Draco sighed happily in relief.

His mother continued, "I believe math, science and logic are very important skills Draco and I will not allow my son to be ignorant in them like all the other wizards. So, Draco will you promise me to be nice to those Muggles? You know how frightened they get when they see magic."

Draco looked up to his mother and nodded slowly with a smile. "I promise."

* * * * *

"They can't use magic?" Narcissa finished the sentence. She crossed her arms, "But where, do you propose, can we get our son," she pointed at the poor child in between them, "to learn logic?"

"Tutor. I will hire another tutor," Lucius replied in his matter-of-fact voice. He looked down at his son and asked, "Don't you think my idea is better, Draco?"

Draco remained silent; in fact, he didn't even look up.

"Are you planning to turn our son into a loner with no friends? How many more years are we going to keep him away from children his age?" Narcissa asked furiously.

"Till he goes to Hogwarts," Lucius replied curtly.

"Till he goes to Hogwarts?" Narcissa repeated hotly, "That's another six years! By then he won't even know how to make friends!"

"Oh our son will do fine, what do you say Draco?" he asked his son again.

"Humm?" Draco muttered and looked up with drowsy eyes. He looked at his mother, who though she was angry was able to keep her face as pale as ever, and then his father, who he thought was starting to look like a tomato. He yawned. "May I go to bed?"

"What time is it Lucius?" Narcissa asked, wondering why her son was so tired.

Lucius face softened and looked down at his watch; the redness of his face began to drain out. "Ten."

"Oh my, no wonder you are tired dear. It's an hour passed your bed time," Narcissa cried. She looked down at her son. He was sitting down on the wooden floor and did not replied. "Dear?" she asked again. She kneeled down to discover that Draco was already sound asleep. She laughed softly and looked up, Lucius was standing beside her.

"He's off?" he asked. His wife nodded. Without another word, he bent down to pick up the small figure on the ground. Narcissa stood up and the three began to make their way through the mansion to Draco's room.

"I still don't think he should go to the Muggle school," Lucius said softly, making sure he wouldn't wake his son.

"I think he should," Narcissa whispered back.

"But there are Muggles there! They are so... I will not let my son be educated with inferiors like them!"

"He must learn math!"

"With Muggles? Seriously I don't think that's necessary, a tutor will do fine." The battle continued on...

"Malfoy? Malfoy!" a voice barks.

Waking from my thoughts, I looked up. There standing outside of my cell was a man with black hair. It was Potter. "What?" I asked venomously.

"Oh getting a bit snappy are we?" Potter asked. His lips curled to form a cruel smile, the same one he had when he handed me off to the Dementors at the door of Azkaban. After seven years of his resurrection, Voldemort was finally destroyed by none other than Harry Potter.

How surprising!

Seriously, if I had a wand with me Potter would be in great danger of being hit by the Avada Kedavra spell. Lucky for him and unlucky for me, I didn't have one, they snapped it. Actually, to be exact, he snapped it. As it was, there was absolutely nothing I could do. "Go away," I muttered in defeat.

Potter refused to leave. He mocked instead, "Oh? Is it just me or are you losing your edge?"

I said nothing. He would get tired of it sooner or later. I closed my eyes and stopped listening. You will get bored after a while, Potter.