No Belonging | Draco Malfoy

Intro

"Quick, Goyle!" Draco screamed.

He adjusted his thin scrawny body and pointed his father's brand-new Nimbus 2000 towards the ground below. A towering, inky black shadow was slowly pounding its way through the garden's dense wooded area ahead. He was not meant to be flying, especially without his mother watching.

He had lost track of time and they had been flying for hours. His father was home from working at the Ministry and any moment now he was about to catch Draco breaking his rules again. Panicking, Draco was only a few feet above the ground when the nearby gate creaked open. Goyle was still hovering above in the grey sky, oblivious of what was going on below. By the time Draco firmly struck his small feet on the rough ground, he had been spotted.

"Draco!" Lucius Malfoy echoed harshly, "What on Earth do you think you are doing?!"

"Umm...I-I was just..." Draco mumbled whilst trying not to make eye contact with his father whose cheeks were deep red with a frown upon his lips.

"How dare you disobey me!" Lucius screeched and grabbed Draco's bony shoulders pulling him strongly off his brand-new broom.

Draco winced in pain as an old scar slightly opened on his right shoulder blade causing a tingling sensation down that side of his figure. As he slowly re-opened his eyes, he was met with a rapid, fierce, angry fist flying towards his face.

"Ahh" Draco cried as he raised his arms to protect himself.

When no flesh made contact with Draco's pale skin, he looked up whimpering.

All he saw was darkness, his father had disappeared.

The whole garden had disappeared.

He was in bed.

Draco frantically wiped his weary eyes expecting his father to reappear at any moment with his threatening fist at the ready. But no, it was all just another nightmare.

A very vivid and true nightmare.

Shakingly, Draco climbed out of his king-sized bed and stumbled towards the light switch, his grey striped pajamas dripping in sweat. When he finally turned the light on, Draco scanned the room searching for any presence before he let out a sigh and relaxed.

He plodded over to his dark, wooden bed-side cabinet and pulled open the top drawer. A comic book laid neatly in its place, hidden away under his socks. Draco carefully picked it up and proceeded to sit on his bed and read it for the 100th time: the pages tearing with wear. The comic was about a superhero who travelled around fighting the villains and saving the victims from danger. Draco wanted to be a superhero, flying around on his broom and chasing the bad guys.

But that could never happen.

He came from a family of villains.