Disclaimer: Not mine.

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The Malfoy family had always prided themselves on maintaining their appearance in every way possible; how they appeared physically when they went out in public, the social and political reputations of their family in the Wizengamot and with alliances, and even their betrothals and familial roles were all carefully tailored to give the best possible impression of the House of Malfoy in the public eye.

Every single member of each generation had been brought up to stringently abide by these rules and act accordingly. Malfoys were notorious for digging their heels in and using traditional means to achieve their plans, such as the traditional courtship rituals used when a member was looking for a spouse. They could never be accused of impropriety.

When Lucius Malfoy had noticed the beauty and intrigue of the younger Slytherin Narcissa Black, he had followed proper channels by notifying his father the Lord Malfoy, and then contacting the Lord Black with an initial request. The two had only begun courting after the two families had agreed upon a betrothal contract and worked out the specific details.

For Draco Malfoy, his parents were the epitome of class and wealth; other families looked up to his parents as examples, they went to them for all manner of advice, and his family was the perfect family unit of a pure-blood House.

He remembered once as a young child when the family of three had been walking through Diagon Alley and came across a harried woman with a young child screaming for sweets. The mother had simply shouted back and dragged the child away, and Draco had never been more appalled at such behaviour in his short life.

The moment struck him deeply when he witnessed the identical sneers of disapproval cross his parents' faces. He'd made a small vow to himself - as serious as any six-year-old could be - that he would never act in a way that would earn that look from his parents. The very idea of receiving such a look from the two people he respected more than anything made him feel sick.

From then on he'd emulated his father's stately behaviour and followed his mother's advice the best he could. He knew one day he would be the Head of the family as Lord Malfoy, and made sure to act similarly to the current Lord. After all, surely his father would be the best example to follow?

Draco had been convinced his family was utterly perfect in every way possible and felt no qualms in proclaiming such statements to the other children he interacted with. Vince and Greg weren't all that smart so they'd immediately agreed with his words, as had a young Pansy who'd seemed determined to become close to him and went along with whatever he dictated.

He'd never quite understood why the young Blaise just gave him a small smirk whenever he said as such to him. Draco never saw the Italian boy that much, but whenever he did he had the urge to become better than him; Blaise had always had a somewhat indulgent smile on his face when he looked at Draco, as if he were simply humouring him. It had infuriated him.

It was because of a young Blaise Zabini that Draco made a second vow at nine to prove that he was better that everyone else in every way possible. After this the blonde boy became even louder and more pompous, and began putting on airs like his father every day.

Unfortunately for Draco, his parents' indulgence had given him a very warped perspective on what it meant to act in such a way in public. He saw a few other children but he rarely left the manor at all; he'd had a sheltered childhood that did nothing to prepare him for the real world or how to interact with others. He had no way of knowing that such behaviour wouldn't do him any favours.

The meetings his father had with his associates in their home were just more proof for Draco that his family was highly respected, and he couldn't wait to show off his family status to anyone who would listen (not realising that his father's 'associates' were not the best people to be in league with).

Narcissa and Lucius had hardly ever scolded or corrected him and he grew up assuming that his behaviour was totally normal. Going to Hogwarts, he'd been excited that he would be able to prove that his family was better than everyone else, and having everyone else respecting him immediately was going to prove all his ideas right.

After all, his father had assured him often of the inherent superiority of pure-blood families, and school would be the best opportunity to prove him right. Mudbloods were useless and unwanted, and they were destroying the magical world. The Dark Lord who his father had worked with was right; their world was no place for those from tainted families. He was better than others because he was a Malfoy and his father had been a very close associate of the Dark Lord.

Unfortunately, all of Draco's childish assumptions about his family started to crumble into nothingness the day he started Hogwarts.

Despite not knowing how his behaviour was usually considered, he was well aware of the things that he would usually say about his parents and his House - he'd just assumed that saying those things was acceptable.

His beliefs first took a hit when he encountered the other first-year students and they all got into the small boats together to ride across the lake. Greg and Vince were normal as usual but the other boy with them was incredibly annoying. His name was Zacharias Smith, and the arrogant ponce hadn't shut up about how his family was descended from Helga Hufflepuff.

The more the other boy spoke, the more doubt crept into the Malfoy's mind. He usually spoke in this way too, but this boy was so aggravating to listen to. Did other people think he was this irritating? He wanted to believe it was only Smith who was so annoying, but the memory of a younger Blaise with a condescending smirk on his face flashed in his mind.

His behaviour was modelled on his family's, so was it his family that was the issue? He had seen a few glances from the other wizarding-raised students that he couldn't quite understand, but he had assumed they were just respectful of his family. His family were famous for their wealth and status, so Draco simply wrote off the looks as wary praise and carried on as normal. His father would have told him otherwise if his behaviour was a problem.

When that stupid little mudblood girl had started on about Gryffindor it was pathetic; she'd been so focused on praising the crazy old man in charge instead of thinking about herself. The girl hadn't shut up and kept trying to push her own ideas onto everyone else. She clearly had no concept of appropriate behaviour; this was why the mudbloods were ruining things like Father said.

Though what was more annoying for the young Malfoy was that he'd noticed a similarity between the two of them. He'd always been steadfast in stating his opinions and pushing them onto others without considering if they were wrong. The girl was pitiful in his opinion though; her ignorance of basic wizarding culture was too obvious and her superior tone wasn't going to help her fit in.

He'd already been wound up from dealing with Smith and then he'd been faced with more evidence that his behaviour wasn't so perfect after all. This girl was receiving some rather disgusted looks from the other first years for acting in a way that he had also done before.

Draco had always been told to maintain his composure in public by his mother, but he'd been so conflicted that he nearly said 'mudblood' in front of everyone. If it hadn't been for another girl interrupting them he would have made a complete mess of things.

The other girl bore a startling resemblance to his mother which made him immediately suspicious, though he begrudgingly admired her poise as she stopped their argument. He had wondered if she would be in Slytherin with her subtly coercive speech, and he'd decided to keep an eye on her.

Realising that the girl was actually Rose Potter, The-Girl-Who-Lived, and his cousin was a startling revelation. She was nothing like what he'd heard, and when she went into Ravenclaw it put a new spin on her statement about not everyone following in their family's footsteps.

Potter was a mystery; she acted like the perfect pure-blood princess, was vastly intelligent, and probably should have been in Slytherin. He wasn't stupid, and he knew full well that the little study group happening was her idea. She had managed to combat some of the inter-House rivalry under the guise of learning. She should have been a Slytherin.

He'd wanted to be a Slytherin because his family was in Slytherin, no matter if the stupid hat thought he should be in Ravenclaw. He'd grown up knowing that Malfoys were Slytherins and there had been no question as to where he'd be Sorted.

When he'd overheard some older Slytherins saying that he was the son of a Death Eater he nearly said something in retaliation about their families, but their comments about pure-bloods being killed by the Dark Lord made him wary. Surely that wasn't the case? His father had told him that their cause was to cleanse the magical world, but killing off pure-bloods was counter-productive. He all but ran to the library and began hours of research about the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who.

Knowledge about the Death Eaters was common in their world because of the war, as was the list of victims. Three entire families from the Sacred Twenty-Eight had been wiped out in the war - Fawley, Shafiq and Prewett - as well as others that were reduced to just a few members, like the Bones', Longbottoms, Crouches, Lestranges, and Slughorns. Not to mention the Blacks, his mother's family. The Potter family wasn't on the list, but they were just as well respected and were now down to just his diminutive cousin.

His family was listed as suspects in these murders - and they were murders - and Draco had felt his stomach drop at the list of respected pure-bloods who'd been killed for no apparent reason. They hadn't all been blood traitors, and some had been neutral - so why were they dead?

Finding out that your family were probably murderers was a nauseating experience.

His father had always focused on the 'great' parts of the family history, but what about the rest? The library had certainly been informative in that respect.

His father had apparently narrowly escaped prison by claiming that he had been Imperioused into doing things for You-Know-Who, and suddenly the memory of his father bragging to his friends about being able to completely resist the Imperious Curse took on a whole different meaning.

The House of Black was all but decimated by now, with any remaining members having married into other Houses, or in Azkaban and insane. Or had been in Azkaban. The recent release of Sirius Black, now Lord Black, had caused quite a scandal at the Ministry when it'd been discovered that he'd spent a decade incarcerated without a trial when he was in fact innocent.

Draco remembered during the summer that Lucius had been very irritated at home, and he wondered if perhaps his father had wanted Black to remain in prison. Draco could tell from the family tree that he would've been in a position to inherit the Black estate if Black had had no children, but what his father hadn't seem to take into account was Rose Potter.

Potter who was Black's goddaughter.

When Draco read that he knew full well that he would never inherit the title of Lord Black. If Sirius Black was so close to Potter, who also had Black blood, then Draco wouldn't even be considered for the line of succession unless everyone else died. He honestly hadn't cared, he'd been more concerned about why his parents had lied to him.

After his insane aunt Bellatrix Lestrange died and Professor Snape was arrested and convicted, the letters from home turned frantic and disturbed, and Draco had been struck with how his parents' grace seemed to have fled them.

Also by how unsurprised Potter seemed.

'How' was a question that he couldn't answer, but he knew his cousin had had something to do with everything that had happened recently. Not that he could ask her as the two hadn't even spoken in class. Draco could - in the back of his mind, at least - admit that he'd been avoiding the blonde girl; he had no idea how to speak to the girl after learning everything he had. "Hello, there. I just thought I'd introduce myself. My name's Draco Malfoy, I'm your second cousin once removed, and apparently my father used to work for the man who murdered your parents and made you an orphan. Do you want to be friends?" Yeah, that would go down perfectly. Not.

On the outside, Draco Malfoy had been the same confident person as always, but internally he'd been having a meltdown about how things had deteriorated so quickly. He'd still loved his parents deeply but Hogwarts had shown him how other people interacted with warmth and laughter; he'd seen pictures of parents hugging their children, and how his actions - his family's actions - were isolating him further and further.

He'd had Vince, Greg and Pansy, but there was no-one he could speak to about things on a more serious level. He wanted to have an actual friend that he could bounce ideas off and have fun with.

For once in his life he wanted to be like everyone else.

He'd thought the Yule break would be enough of a reprieve, but when he met his parents off the Hogwarts Express he'd noticed just how cold they looked. Like dolls. They'd been smiling but it looked fake and rehearsed, and the closest he got to affection was a hand on his shoulder.

Not far away he'd seen Potter disregard any etiquette whatsoever and fling herself at two men who grabbed her in a crushing hug between them. Draco had never been so jealous of anyone before, and he'd had to swallow the lump that rose in his throat at the sight.

Yule had been the same as usual, only Draco had been able to tell how formal and impersonal it was for the first time, and he'd had to utilise every bit of skill he had to maintain the smile on his face as he went through the motions of the holiday. He'd sat still like a good Heir, thanked everyone politely, and acted as if he were overjoyed, all the while he was trying not to cry.

His life had gone from blind reverence towards his family to feeling disillusioned with everything, and he didn't know what to do.

Watching his father be sent to St Mungo's had been terrifying, not only because Lucius' illness was a complete mystery, but also because Draco couldn't tell if he was upset by this development at all. He'd lived his whole life desperately trying to get approval from Lucius Malfoy and he'd thought his father loved him, but thinking about the few small pats to his head and the patronising smiles, he knew that to Lucius Malfoy he'd always been an Heir, not a son.

Upon that realisation Draco no longer felt any need to gain his approval, and realised that he genuinely didn't love his father at all, or even like him - apathy was the only thing he could bring himself to feel when he thought of the man who'd sired him.

Over Yule he'd realised his mother seemed just as much a pawn to Lucius as Draco was, and his love towards her was reaffirmed. He knew that she'd only acted the way she had because Lucius made her, and when Draco looked closely he'd seen the buried hatred toward her husband that lurked in his mother's eyes.

Having your father and all his friends arrested and sentenced to Azkaban the day before school started again was a strangely liberating experience, even if it confirmed that the man who raised you willingly became a murderer.

He and his mother sat in the stands with blank faces as the Head of their family was sentenced to life in Azkaban with the other Death Eaters - who were all coincidentally sufferers of the recent mysterious illness - and was dragged out never to be seen again.

His mother had been cleared of all charges after it was discovered that her marriage contract gave Lucius complete control over his wife's actions, and Lucius had forced her into compliance by threatening her with never seeing Draco again.

Draco had never hated his father more when he heard that.

The two Malfoys made a hasty exit after the trial and returned to their home. Malfoy Manor was tall and imposing as ever, decorated with cold and dark colours, surrounded by extravagant peacocks, and lacking in any warmth whatsoever.

There was so much to do; Draco would have to take up the mantle of Lord Malfoy, the family's assets would have to be examined, and they would need to make sure that there weren't any obscure stipulations for the Head.

The mother and son ignored all their duties and sat down together. Soon enough Narcissa was holding her son tightly and stroking his hair, whispering soft words as the boy curled up in his mother's lap like he'd always wanted to.

The manor finally felt warm.

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Sorry for the delay. I was studying for my exams. Anyways, hope you liked it. This is one of my favourite chapter in the book.

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