Children Will Listen

Children Will Listen

Careful the things you say, / Children will listen. / Careful the things you do, / Children will see. / And learn. / Children may not obey, / But children will listen. / Children will look to you/ For which way to turn, / To learn what to be. / Careful before you say, / "Listen to me."/ Children will listen. / Careful the wish you make, / Wishes are children. / Careful the path they take-/ Wishes come true, / Not free. / Careful the spell you cast, / Not just on children. / Sometimes the spell may last/ Past what you see/ And turn against you.../ Careful the tale you tell. / That is the spell. / Children will listen...~"Children Will Listen/Finale" from Into the Woods

Draco Malfoy ran about the Malfoy Manor searching every room, looking under every table. Where could he be? He neared the downstairs parlor, the only place he hadn't looked. He entered the room and spotted whom he was searching for immediately. Dobby the house elf stood behind a large vase, but was clearly visible due to his massive ears sticking out at the sides.

"Found you, Dobby!" he called contentedly. "You're behind Mummy's vase!"

Dobby gave a hearty laugh, "Well done, Master Draco!"

"Alright, now you count and I'll hide," Draco said smiling broadly.

Dobby closed his enormous brown eyes and began counting, "One... Two... Three..."

"Draco!" Narcissa's voice was magically amplified throughout the manor; "Your father will be home soon. Dobby get back to the kitchens quickly."

"Yes, ma'am." Dobby called, before giving the young boy a warm smile and disappearing with a snap of his fingers.

Draco stood sulking for a moment and then headed for his mother's sewing room. "Why do we always have to stop playing when Father's on his way home? It was my turn to hide, and I had the best hiding place!"

Narcissa smiled down at her son and set aside her embroidery, "Come here, love." She patted her lap and Draco climbed into it, "Your father feels that Dobby and the other house elves are better off working then playing with you. Also you're getting to be such a big boy, you shouldn't play such childish games."

"But I like those games and Dobby is my friend."

"I know, my sweet, but your father feels you should start playing with children your own age and species. You know Gregory and Vincent? They should be the kinds of friends you should have."

"I don't like those boys! They're so big and stupid. And they keep asking questions about Father," Draco pouted and crossed his arms in front of him. "Always the same thing, 'Does your father really know You-Know-Who?)' 'Has he heard anything from the Dark Lord?' 'Is it true he owns some of His personal things?' They never want to play or even talk about anything other than Mudbloods and the Revolution. They're just boring!"

"I know they aren't the most interesting people, but they will be great allies in the Revolution," his mother told him soothingly.

Draco slid off her lap and looked rather serious for a seven-year-old, "What is this Revolution?"

"Something your father will tell you about when you're older."

"Why do I need to make friends with Gregory and Vincent now, if I can't know the reason why until later?"

Behind them, the fireplace roared a brilliant green and Lucius Malfoy walked through the flames, "I think you're old enough to know now, son."

~o~

Lucius led his son into his study. "Sit, son," he gestured to the stiff armchair across from his large, regal desk. "I realize you're old enough to know the truth. You're mother may not see it the same way, but I refuse to think of you as a weak child."

"I'm not weak!" Draco said trying to sound like a grown-up.

Lucius chuckled dryly, "I know, son. Now, you remember the story of the Dark Lord, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me."

Draco stood, and fixed his posture as straight as possible, just as he had been taught to. He recited the story his father had told him for as long as he could remember. "...And then when his righteous crusade was nearing completion, he was stopped by a diabolical family of Mudbloods. Through using unnatural and unknown magics, they caused the Dark Lord to disappear and become a shadow of his former self. But one day soon, he will return and finish this, his most noble of goals: to rid the world of Mudbloods." Draco finished the grim tale, that secretly scared him, and Lucius looked at him with pride. With a nod from his father he sat back down.

"Good, son," he said. "Now what do you think 'rid the world of Mudbloods' means?"

Draco sifted uncomfortably and swallowed hard, "To... to kill them?"

"Yes," his father nodded. "No need to fear, my boy, we are Purebloods. We are the true wizards. Mudbloods are unnatural, frauds. No better than house elves." That last sentence struck Draco like a fist, but he tried not to show his uneasiness. "Then there are Half-bloods they are Mudbloods with actual wizard heritage but they also have Muggle blood as well. These wizards (if you can call them that) have mixed blood and therefore have no business in our world. Wizards marrying Muggles, I shudder at the thought. Harry Potter is a Half-blood, filth, but a powerful bit of filth. He weakened the most powerful wizard of our time. The question is: where is he and on what side will he align himself to?"

Draco was quite confused by his father's contradicting statements, but tried to mimic his father's aloofness.

"The Revolution, Draco, will be the second uprising of the Dark Lord. When we will make the wizarding world see that true power lies with those of us of pure breeding. We will turn the wizarding world on its ear. The Dark Lord will rule, and I will be on his right hand. And you will carry on the Malfoy name to more power and riches then anyone could ever imagine."

Draco sat and watched his father; he was doing something Draco had rarely seen, he was showing emotion. "Why do I have to be friends with Vincent and Gregory?"

"Who? Oh, Crabbe and Goyle's brats. First, Draco, Malfoys do not have 'friends'. Friends are for the weak and brainless. 'Allies', however, can prove much more useful. They can help raise you higher. And if they fall, it's no skin off your nose."

"Fall, sir? How do you mean?"

Lucius looked at his son coldly; "Die, son, if they die. Get killed."

Draco gulped visibly, "Why does anyone have to die?"

Lucius stood quickly, his chair falling back as he did so; he was obviously annoyed at his son's miscomprehension. "Have you not heard a word of what I've been saying? What do you think the Revolution will be? A card game? We're talking war here, son, war on the Mudbloods! Both sides will undoubtedly suffer some casualties. But we will not be of those casualties."

"How can you be sure?"

"We are Malfoys, Draco. We are one of the most pure and therefore one of the most powerful families in all the wizarding families. There is no doubt that we will prevail."

Draco didn't like the idea of fighting or of war, but he felt it best not to let his father know that. And with all his father's talk of breeding, he felt a bit like a dog; but he felt it best not to let him know that either.

"Son, do you understand?" Lucius walked towards him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, sir. I do," he lied.