𝒜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒽 | 𝒟.𝑀.

74 | ﴾ Dog Fight ﴿

"Hand me that piece. No, not that one Winky you stupid elf, the far one. Look at where I am pointing," a ten year old Draco Malfoy instructed the tiny elf who was helping him to build a magically propelled kite. The elf was named Winky then, but within less than two years it would be gruesomely tortured by none other than her owner, Lucius Malfoy, and would be renamed to Nibbles for reasons that were dreadfully squeamish to imagine.

Draco shook his head with newly formed repulsion for the little creature that had never done him any wrong, staring at him over the edge of his desk with her large green eyes barely clearing the table top.

She scooched her heavily bandaged and burnt fingers over to the item that he was indicating and passed it with a frail arm. She was fond of him, she always had been, and was able to overlook the surficial monster that he was starting to grow into for the sake of his own survival. "Winky is being very sorry, Winky is only ever wanting to be's helpful as being possible. Master Draco-"

"Sssshhh," Draco glared at her as she took off rambling like she tended to do when nervous.

By the time he had reached that age, he'd begun to practice his rude remarks for absolutely everything and everyone as though all aspects of life positively disgusted him. He acted this way on the exterior in order to appease his father, but deep down he was highly sensitive and starving for affectionate attention. His softer personality was being rapidly squeezed out of him like juice from a lemon.

He sat back, holding up the nearly completed invention with satisfaction, cocking his head to the side, "What do you think? Will it fly?"

Winky's ears flattened with glee at being mindfully interacted with, "Oh! It is being so incredible!"

Draco smirked snidely, "I agree, just not quite at that decibel. Must you shout everything?"

The little boy with his legs dangling from his leather, wing-backed chair sat chewing on his tongue in concentration, twisting around tools as he screwed together the wooden bird he'd carefully prepared Sitka Spruce parts for. His platinum hair was feathery and soft in front of his eyes as he didn't expect to see anyone aside from his parents for the majority of the summer, if not the entire thing. Otherwise, in public settings Draco was vividly instructed to slick it back in a manner that unfortunately did make him quite uncomfortable.

Summers were horrible at the Malfoy Manor as they tended to drag onwards. Draco already despised the heat, and then to add to the unbearable climate he was probably the most isolated child in the world. At a minimum during school months he was sent to a strict French boarding school intended specifically for pre-teen magicals, where he could play with the other boys and tease girls through silly charms pranks.

The only person in the house who did not approve of the boarding school was his mother, who was fraught with anxiety the entire nine months that he was there. She was regrettably quite attached to Draco and overprotective due to Lucius constantly threatening the boy's life. She had ergo, arguably disappointed Draco when she made it quite clear to him that he would be attending Hogwarts the following year instead of his first choice which was Durmstrang, effectively keeping Draco as close by as possible.

Caught up in burning concentration he hadn't even noticed that Winky had disappeared until she was back with a little popping noise, wringing her hands nervously.

"Why are you acting funny?" he narrowed his eyes at her, going back to his project.

"Hmm, Winky is being told to gather young Master Draco. There is being guests," she moaned anxiously. She dipped her head at him, looking up with big, terrified eyes which had earned her a primary title as Winky.