I once asked my father whether or not he loved me. He looked at me startled. A look I had never before seen on his stolid face. He sputtered something about me being an insolent child and sent me off to my room. I was young then and could not know the many secrets the question held for him.

The following day I was presented with the most glorius gifts and the best leather story books one could find. My father smiled pulling me into his lap, a gesture he didn't do many times, and read me all the stories I asked him too. His velvet voice draped over me like a blanket and then I awoke in my room. My father went away for two months. A business trip mother claimed.

When he returned he brought the richest chocolates and the finest wine though I could only have a small taste. He wrapped me up in a new silk robe and pulling me into his lap told me of his trip. I took this opportunity to hug him and hold him snuggling up into his arms.

His eyes were warm and he stopped talking to look at me. Licking his lips he complemented me on how I looked in my new robe. He told me I looked older and to be a good boy and run along. I kissed him lightly on the lips too young to understand the pain the simple gesture brought him.

He left again returning three years later on my birthday. He brought along Snape an old family friend. I supposedly had known him long before I was able to remember so. He was fun but I was extremly jelous of him. My father paid much attention to him and I yearned for him to do so to me.

Growing older I begain to despise Snape. He began showing up more often and him and my father would go off on long business trips together.

I caught them one day together, by then I was almost old enough to understand, my father had Snape pinned against the wall moaning and panting for needed breath.

I stood by watching and ran long before they could catch me. I wanted my fathers attention again, craved it.

When Snape left I called for my father and when he entered my room I pushed my body onto his. Though I thought I was old enough to understand what was going on in the hall that morning It seemed it was not so and I wasn't aware what kind of torture I was putting my father though.

He pulled me away from him and left. Not returning for another three years. When he did get back home he avoided me at all costs and soon I was off to Hogwarts. By the time I was fifteen I understood and set out to win my Fathers attention back.

By seventeen I had finally won seducing him into my bed when mother was out and once he had a taste he couldn't get enough. By then I knew the reasons for my Father's lack of showing me attention.

Once I had asked my father whether or not he loved me and he couldn't say. Now I ask my father the same question and he doesn't have to.