Draco Lucius Malfoy knew a lot of things. He knew that purebloods were better than other wizards and witches, and that mudbloods were the worst of them all. He also knew that his father told him these things, and that's why he must believe them..

It wasn't easy being a Malfoy. There were expectations and pressure. You get hated on by pretty much everyone. But you still have to wear it like a crown, changing yourself to such an extent that you aren't yourself anymore. As Draco stared at his silver eyes through the mirror, he didn't know who he was.

A large pop resonated from behind him and he turned to see Dobby, their house-elf. "Mrs. Malfoy w-wants you d-downstairs for breakfast."

Draco relaxed his face into a sneer, then approached the flight of stairs. He ran his hand down the polished wood railing and made his way down the spiral slope. His fingers trailed around the end of the railing where a wooden serpent's head was carved. In fact, the whole railing was made to be seen as a serpent slithering down the stairs, just another reminder of his family house. The serpent's eyes were inlaid with rubies that made Draco's heart thump every time he looked in to them. There were emeralds and diamonds bordering it's scales.

Draco walked, back straight, and an impassive expression on his face, to the dining room. The twinkling lights from the large chandelier above the polished long table hurt his eyes, but he forced himself not to flinch. Malfoys must never show weakness.

"Good morning mother." He nodded at his mom, Narcissa Malfoy, then at his father, Lucius Malfoy. "Father."

They both nodded back to them, and the three sat in the respective seats; Lucius at the head, Narcissa on his right, and Draco at his left.

"Dobby!" His mother's voice rang out, her long blond hair not budging out of their bejeweled clips. "Bring our breakfast."

Dobby scurried into the dining room, head bent down as he carried 5 platters of food on his bony shoulders. Mippy, the other house-elf helped him serve the table.

Draco looked at the food appraisingly. He used a fork to lift up the end of what looked like a flat circle with brown corners.

"What is this, Dobby?" He asked.

"Pancakes, sir. It's a m-muggle breakfast." Dobby stammered.

His father rose from his seat, smoothing down his immaculate platinum blonde hair, and glared down at Dobby with his cold silver eyes. "You dare serve us a muggle breakfast? Go punish yourself."

As Dobby hit his head repeatedly against the walls, Draco couldn't help but flinch. Blood began to run from the side of his head, and suddenly, the young Malfoy didn't have an appetite.

Lucius Malfoy looked at his son, who was as impassive as ever, picking at his food.

"Son." Draco's head shot up. "We received your Hogwarts letter today."

Draco's eyes widened in excitement and his father cleared his throat. "We will buy the necessary supplies from Diagon Alley in a few days."

"Yes father."

"This book," Lucius Malfoy flicked his wand and a large book came flying to land in front of Draco's plate, and continued speaking, "will explain everything you need to know about Hogwarts. Don't bother reading the other house's sections." The glint in his eyes told Draco exactly which house he was to be concerned with.

"Yes father."

"I presume you will study it today." Lucius Malfoy's eyes seemed to pierce through Draco's, looking into his soul.

"Yes father." Draco stood up. "May I be excused from the table to study?"

Lucius Malfoy gave one curt nod. "You may."

Draco picked up the book and made his way out of the large dining room.

Oh how Draco wished he wasn't under-age and could do magic. Countless possibilities flew through his mind, many of which included playing pranks on his father. Sadly, he knew he would be punished for it harshly. Draco's hand fluttered to his back where an old scar lay, stretching across his skin. He had earned it at the mere age of seven, when he, who was at a height of curiosity, had dared to ask aloud on why they should hate muggles, since after all, both muggles and wizards were mortal. His father, whose resemblance Draco shared, seemed to attack the boy through his glare alone, settling on giving his heir a permanent reminder that such questions were never to be asked let alone considered.

The bleeding had only stopped when his more soft-hearted mother helped heal the gashes with her own magic. Both his parents were average wizards and witches. Draco had more magic than them both combined. That also meant that it was harder to control, which was why Lucius Malfoy had placed a resisting charm on Draco which prevented him from having any more 'accidents', many of which involved destroying the many valuables placed carefully along the mansion. The charm was a constant pressure at the back of his head, to the point where it was almost painful, but still bearable. He had grown used to it over the years and barely noticed it anymore.

When he would go to Hogwarts however, that charm would be released, since Draco would learn better control over his magic. Since the acceptance letter had arrived, Draco will be given that escape. But that wouldn't be for another two weeks, so he was still stuck with his parents for now.

When he arrived at the Malfoy Manor's library, Draco didn't even bother to spare a look for the tall countless shelves filled with books, and instead sat down at a worktable. He took some parchment from the pile and a quill with a bottle of ink for his notes of the large book.

He turned it over and began to read, just wanting to get it over with.

"Hogwarts a History, by Bathilda Bagshot."