Falling had been a fear of Delilah Avery's since a young age. As a child, her cousin had pushed her out of a tree and she landed in one of her mother's many rose bushes. Some would think it was the thorns and the small cuts in her skin that would scare her. However, Delilah had a different outlook as she did on most things. Falling was the cause that led her to hurting herself. Falling is what led to tears. Falling is what led to him.
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A son of a father who was a supposed follower of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Tucked away in his giant mansion. Never truly feeling a parent's love. Never learning what it meant to be good. Draco Malfoy had fallen from the very beginning. He wasn't bred to be good. He was bred to do what he was told, and to look down upon those who were different. Draco's fate had been sealed once his father and mother devoted themselves to the wrong side. He would never fall because you can't fall if you've already hit rock bottom.
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