Starting Spark

The (Terrible) Holiday

Draco's P.O.V

I woke up to the sound of my mother knocking lightly on the door, "Draco, honey. Dinner's ready!"

I didn't realise I had been sleeping all along! 

Well, it was a long trip so you can't really blame me for sleeping. But what makes me rather curious is the fact that my father nor my mother woke me up. Well, my mother probably opened the door and found me asleep so she didn't disturb me. But what's puzzling me is the fact that my father actually didn't decide to wake me up, just to disturb me for fun.

Did my mother somehow convinced him to let me sleep? Well, this sure is very rare. I hardly ever see him take order from anyone around here, since he's the boss of the house.

"Draco!" My father yelled from downstairs, obviously annoyed at me being slow. I grumbled before getting off my bed and putting on my shoes.

"I'm coming!" I shouted, trying not to sound like I'm annoyed or anything, down stairs when my father called me the second time.

Can't he just wait? I thought angrily to myself. I can literately feel myself bursting, I'm still fond of the fact that I haven't yet imploded. But I know it's anyminute now.

As I reached the bottom step, my father was already standing next to the wall that was on the left side of the staircase. You know what I mean? The staircase ends at a certain point, and the handle could be resting on the wall, or resting on a supporter. Well, in this case, the staircase in my father's house, the handle is rested on the left side. Well, my left his right.

Well, either ways, he was leaning on the wall. Tapping the non-existence watch he has on his hand, "You're late." he said sternly.

I had so many things that I wanted to shout at him. So many insults that I want to throw at his face. I can already feel the angry pain boiling against the surface of my cheeks, but in order to save my life, I had to keep quiet.

You see what I go through every single day? My father tortures me, and I hide my anger and sadness. I hate him. No, 'hate' isn't strong enough. I despise him.

Anyone in the right mind, except my mother even though I don't think they married because of love probably was force to, could ever stand my father's existence. I mean, who could ever want a bully around that said awful things about other people in their face, when he himself looked like an old, constipated ballerina.

I know I'm not suppose to call him that, but I couldn't really care less. If I can't say it out loud, I should be able to have an opinion of my own. Aloud or not, I have to be able to have my own opinion. 

End of story. 

"Get in there and sit down." My father hissed at me, as he pushed me forward.

I immediately fell forward, because of no awareness, thankfully my hand was there in time to support me. I don't know what would've happened if my hand weren't there to save me in time.

I stood up, patted myself clean and went towards the sink to wash my hands.

Just wait until I come of age, I thought angrily to myself. He won't be able to torture me like this anymore when I am 17. I'll move out of here, and everytime I come back here, I'll make sure he's useless and let's see how he likes that.

I turned around, and found a seat that didn't make me have to look at him, and sat down. Even though I know I can't really see my father's face, but I can tell he's smirking. 

Oh how I hate his triumphant smirk. Oh how I just want to whip it off his face. I hate him so much, you can't even explain it with words.

"Draco," He said, calmly, "fill up my goblet, with those wines."