Wavering Loyalty

Draco Malfoy sat in a plush lounge chair across from a crackling fire, head bent down in shame. His father standing in front of the fire, glaring at his son biting back rage.

Not but an hour ago, Lucius Malfoy dragged his unconscious, curse-marked son off of the school train. He healed his son, removing only the scars from his face, leaving his body as a patch work of minor cuts and bruises.

"First, who did that to you?"

"Potter, the mudblood and those filthy Weasleys."

"What did you say to provoke them?"

Draco hesitated. He knew that he couldn't lie to Lucius, but he also knew the truth would make him furious.

"I told Potter he chose the losing side and that mudbloods and muggle-lovers will die now that the Dark Lord has risen," Draco whispered, staring intently at his shoes.

"Fool of a boy! What the bloody hell were you thinking? You confirm their suspicions of this families ties with the Dark Lord and you weren't even able to protect yourself from their simple curses!" Lucius' eyes were livid with anger, and his words were harsher causing Draco to sometimes flinch at the heavily spoken ones. "You are never to insult Potter like that again. I should remind you that hate for the boy who defeated our lord is a hero among most of society. It is less that tasteful to go around antagonizing him."

Lucius paused and eyed Draco. "Stand up," he snapped while grabbing his wand.

"What? Why?"

"Obviously your school isn't teaching you enough self defense; you are going to block my curses until I see fit."

Draco complied and grabbed his wand. In the Malfoy manor the ministry could not sense any magic going on in its boundies... for safety reasons.

Lucius threw every curse imaginable at Draco short of Unforgivable, for the single reason of he wanted to teach his son, not harm him permanently physically or mentally. About every ten or twenty minutes, Lucius had to heal Draco of all of the curses he failed to block, which was quite a few. After a rigorous hour, Draco was nearly able to block them all, and Lucius was satisfied. For the moment anyway.

He dismissed Draco and told him after he had dinner, they will practice for another hour. Draco left his father's drawing room completely exhausted. Sure his father can heal flesh wounds, but he could not help fatigue. Slowly he made his way across the manor to his room. As he passed the lounge, he paused, glancing at the piano.

Draco always enjoyed playing ever since his mother taught him before his Hogwarts education started. At school he hardly ever got to play on a decently tuned one, and his skill decreased as he grew tired of returning every time he played. Draco had half a mind of playing but decided to take a hot bath before dinner and another hour of his father throwing more curses at him.

^ v ^ v ^ v ^ v ^ v ^ v ^

A week after Draco arrived home, Lucius bought him a tutor.

"...Do you expect me to stay home all summer to teach you what you should already know? I have a job you know, life doesn't revolve around you."

Mr. Hillman was the instructor's name. He was an elderly fellow, with bright white hair, but his eyes looked young. Draco learned things he would never learn in Hogwarts. Like the Dark Arts. Mr. Hillman knew practically every thing there was to know on the subject. He used to teach at Durmstrang and had taught the Dark Arts there, and had only retired last year.

"That's why he's your tutor, Draco," Lucius remarked sharply, after Draco had commented on his vast knowledge. "My son can never have second best."

Draco sighed. Of course he was a Malfoy, and Malfoys must be the best. This was something Draco felt he lacked in. He was never the best. Always some one was ahead of him. His father never was proud about his accomplishments; only the fact that he was his son made him proud.

'Selfish git', he often thought after review Lucius' behavior. Everything had to be about Lucius. If he bragged about Draco, some how it was his doing, even if it truly wasn't. And if he failed, it was his fault. Always.

What made him truly mad was the fact that his father was all Draco had. Sure his father was hard to deal with at the best of times, but he was the only one who had ever really cared about his well being. Even if it was for purely selfish reasons.

His mother on the other hand was never around. And when she was, friends normally surrounded Nacissa. Well not really friends, more like people she wanted to impress. His mother made him dress properly at all times because neither Draco or Narcissa knew when she would be home; and when she arrived, she didn't want her 'friends' to think her son was an improper slob. After fifteen years, being neat and proper had borne its way into Draco's head and it was a hard to break habit. His roommates teased him about it, but he neither cared about them or his annoying habit.

The only thing that please Narcissa was that he still played the piano and his marks in school were decent. Draco remembered when Lucius mention to her that he was getting Draco a tutor.

".... But his marks are fine! I don't understand why he has to have this extra help; he's stupid."

"I know he's not stupid! But Draco is ignorant! His school teaches defense against the Dark Arts, and yet he can't protect herself from simple hexes. It's not her fault Dumbledore can't teach properly."

Draco decided the worst part of that conversation was how they talked like he wasn't there, but he was standing next to his father. This wasn't the first time that had happened. It seemed like almost every time it was only the three of them it occurred. About his school marks, his attitude, his social life, love life (or lack thereof) and of course, his future.

His mother wanted him to settle down, start a family, get a nice job as something proper and quiet, yet that still holds the Malfoy name in power.

Lucius though wanted him to become a full time Death Eater, as soon as possible. Lucius has been a Death Eater since the Dark Lords early years. The Dark Lord wanted some one with social power within his circle, and Lucius' hatred of muggleborns and muggles in general had made him perfect for the job. Draco wanted follow in his father's footsteps, and now that He was back that was not only possible, but most likely.

With the Ministry of Magic, or at least the minister, not believing the Dark Lord had returned it was the perfect time to start recruiting. Almost every Death Eater's child was to join.

When Draco heard this, he was ecstatic. But his father squashed his hopes practically immediately.

"How would it look if I just pulled you out of Hogwarts? It would be suspicious. And besides, the Dark Lord doesn't want some under-qualified wizard right now. Wait a few years when you can truly help him."

This talk with his father downed Draco for a while, but then he saw some logic in his father's lecture and he had new vigor in his lessons, to prove that he wasn't "under-qualified".

One Saturday afternoon in July, Lucius cut one of Draco's lessons short.

"You are going to meet some one very important, get your cloak," was all Lucius said after Mr. Hillman left. As Draco got his cloak, he wondered who could be so important to interrupt his teachings, and he fell upon one answer; Voldemort.