-- disclaimer -- It's tad stupid if I say that I own Harry Potter (which I don't-)
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Pride of Pure Bloods
A boy walked into the study. He looked around at the fine furnishings- solid
wood and expensive decorations all around the room. A fire was blazing in the
fireplace. The boy stared at the painting of his family that hung above the
fireplace. Lately he spends most of his time staring at this portrait. His eyes
scanned the family portrait- his eyes landed on his father's face. Proud,
straight-backed and with cold gray eyes, attired in black silk, his cloak trailed
down to the floor and were clasped with a diamond pin with solid silver framing
around it. His fair hair and pointed pale face stared at the boy who merely
continued to stare back. Although pictures are supposed to move- the boy watched
his father's changing expression- which mostly shows arrogance, pride
and boredom. The boy's eyes went down to his mother's face- his
mother's expression was that of equal pride and superiority as she stared
haughtily with her chin high as she sat on the arm chair as her husband stood
behind her and her son next to her. Her hair- straight and blond, her features
were attractive- her garments, like her family, were made of the finest materials.
Delicate and elegant hand in silk gloves on her lap as they held a folded fan.
She wore elegant diamonds around her neck.
Then the boy's eyes finally landed on his own image. A smirk forming at his own lips as he surveyed his portrait. Like his parents, he stared back, haughty and bored. His sleek hair was slicked back; he was wearing black velvet with a high collar with the same diamond and silver brooch on the collar. He watched his portrait smirk a little and back to looking haughty and bored.
Pride.
Draco pushed his hair away from his face as he sat in front of the fire in the study. He then, slowly lies back onto the carpeted floor, glancing up at the portrait. He closed his eyes for a while and opened them; he saw his family portrait looking down on him. He throws his head back and laughs. He loves doing this- seeing his family look down on others. His family had looked down on everybody else- and only talked to the finest, and people with the purest blood. He had been taught, since childhood that ancestry matters more than anything else. Nothing could beat his- his mother's side alone is worth seven centuries of proud pure bloods. Draco smiled contently- as he sat up, still on the floor but his back leant against the vintage couch behind him, and edged a few feet away from the fire.
Pure Bloods.
He smiled contently into the blazing fire. He had been pampered like a little prince ever since childhood- his relatives, equally proud and, of course, with a magnificent evidence of pure ancestry in their lineage- were all very proud of him, his aunt Bellatrix, like his mother, simply loves him and thinks that no other boy had inherited all the traits of a proud pure blood. His parents, of course, are too, proud of their son. He had always looked up to his mother and father- especially his father.
His mother loves calling him perfect- and how he had inherited all his father's traits- looks, cunning, and judiciousness. He enjoys his mother tracing his jaw line with an elegant and delicate hand, as she continued to praise him. Draco smirked into the fire- it also pleases him to see his father pleased and earning him a smile. What he loves most, is how his parents had long taught him to be aware that in him is the embodied traits of all proud pure bloods- hence, being the pride of pure bloods, Draco- since childhood- had dedicated his life into being a respectable figure that would someday take over his father's. Although Lucius had already made it clear that he was somebody to fear- Draco had always seen him as somebody who demands respect and a figure to be pleased, more than to be feared.
Draco scowled, as a face swam into view, untidy black hair and green eyes. "Potter…" he growled, feeling a hot surge of fresh anger and disgust. Lucius says Potter is a disgrace- although a pure blood by birth; he does have muggle blood in him too- but they do not consider him as a pure blood. Draco watched the fire lazily. One time, he had tried mentioning their names to his father and mother- he said how much people in school look up to them, especially Potter. Draco was highly satisfied with their reactions. His mother stiffly said that their names are not to worthy to be mentioned under the roof of their manor, and his father had said that the only family that is worthy to be called pure bloods are them- the Malfoys.
He glanced up at the portrait again as he got up. He looked at the carved names down at the bottom of the solid silver frame- Lucius, Narcissa and Draco. Then under their names was carved-
Malfoy.
Malfoy- a name that commands respect, a name of a true proud pure blood, a name of to be feared and to be pleased. He is a Malfoy. Draco smirked as he remembered what his mother used teach him.
"All proud pure bloods say: Toujours Pur."
"They will get out-" the boy told himself, as he walked out of the study with one last look at the portrait, "My father and the others will- The world will see and recognize the power of proud pure bloods." He said contently as he shut the huge mahogany doors behind him.
- a/n - a little twisted... but just the way i like it... ^^