The Musing of a Mistaken Identity
By: Lunar Blossoms
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. They all belong to the most wonderful writer J. K. Rowling, who has created such a wonderful world for us FanFic writers to manipulate for our own liking.
It's amazing how your perception of life can change in an instant.
You're brought up a specific way. Your parents tell you and teach you how to act as an upstanding member of society... well, at least their perceptions of an upstanding member of society. If my father ever got my way, there really wouldn't be much left of any society.
God, my father's such an asshole.
And don't try and change my mind. I've known all my life what it meant to be in my family. My pure, untainted family line. God, if a Muggle ever even thought about coming into my father's home, they would be dead on the spot. Quicker than you can say "Quidditch". And it truly is my father's home... the week after I graduated from Hogwarts I immediately moved out. Not that I really actually had any choice in the matter... the place was completely torn apart from the raids the Ministry had preformed on it. Raids they only dare perform after Voldermort had disappeared from the world again. Yes, I've said it. Voldermort.
Go on. Shudder like a stupid git.
Never did really understand why everyone begins to twitch at the mere thought of that name. I hate to admit it, but Granger had a point in Diagon Alley over summer holidays before our second year. Fear of a word really only gives the object more power.
Ah, but now you're wondering, "Did he really say He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was dead? Dead and gone for good?" Of course. I may have been a little lying, cheating bastard all my life but there are some things even I wouldn't be stupid enough to lie about. And I had a hand in it.
Turns out, the change in the Sorting Hat's little song had an air of actual meaning to it.
It took an allegiance between people of the four houses to take down Voldermort, old and new. What a motley crew we turned out to be... kids I'd never thought in a million years could even work together, let alone defeat Voldermort. Of course, Potter was at the head of the group; the Order was backing us up and everyone worked together perfectly. Potter and I actually worked together. And willingly at that.
And it worked. Bloody hell, it actually worked.
It's been over five years since that day. Five bloody years. I don't think the majority of people from school would recognize me anymore. At least, that's what Potter says.
Now, I've probably got the wheels in your head turning again. Yes. You can think it. Potter and I are pretty damn good friends. Hell, I'm even friends with the whole damn Weasley family, not to mention Granger. Although, I shouldn't be calling her that anymore. Old habits die hard, but I just can't picture calling her "Weasley". It just doesn't roll off the tongue right. I'll just have to get used to calling her "Hermione"
Oh, like that came off as a big shock to anyone. I started noticing it in our 6th year, but one could probably say that it started long before then. You could always know when they started to fight in the Great Hall, because the sexual tension seemed to vibrate through the room. I was surprised that they just didn't start shagging in front of everyone in the middle of their argument.
Ron laughed at that comment when I told him it last year at their wedding. Hermione didn't find it quite as amusing and I got the distinct impression that she would've like nothing more than to tell me to "Sod off".
Potter liked the comment too. It was then he told me that if our class were to be reunited at that very moment, no one would recognize me. When I asked him why, he merely chuckled and told me that no one would believe that I could be such a "nice, decent human being". There was also the absence of Crabbe and Goyle.
He had a point. I look back on how I was in Hogwarts and I've come to terms with the fact that I was a selfish, spoiled, jealous, lying, cheating little git. And that doesn't even cover it all, but I don't think there are enough words in the English language. But, now I've changed for the better.
Really, I have.
And it was simply because I made the choice to side with Harry and them, instead of with my father, like he wanted. I'm not even sure I can call him a father anymore. Besides, if he weren't dead, he would disown me. You see, I had been taught that the only way for a wizard to be truly powerful was to keep the bloodline pure. It was drilled into my head so often that I truly believed it. It was the only way I knew how to think and the only way I thought I was supposed to think. It really was. But, my last two years of school, I learned it wasn't true.
Voldermort was a powerful wizard. Truly horrific, but powerful. And he was the one of the things he hated most in the world.
He was half Muggle. A Mudblood, in his eyes.
He reminded me of a Muggle man. From Germany... I think. It was in the 1940's, when he tried to take over the world and create a "perfect" race of people. The only problem was, he was part of what he hated. That Muggle, no matter how hard he tried, couldn't get rid of what he hated. Voldermort could never get rid of what he hated. Because he was always part of it. The Death Eaters didn't know that. My "father" didn't know that. But the whole Order and everyone connected to it knew it. That ultimately was his downfall. Because when his followers found that out, they were horrified.
They left him.
Now, I've heard that's not an easy task to do. Many of them died because they didn't want to serve a "Mudblood" master. When they fled from his side on that day during the final battle, he killed them. But, nonetheless, they tried to leave them. And died for that. They died for their beliefs.
No one should die for their beliefs, no matter how horrible they are.
My beliefs changed that day. I found out that, like race, "Pureblood" or "Mudblood" doesn't matter. It's how you live day to day, and how you treat other people. That's what matters. I just found out a little too late. And I don't doubt that many of the people I knew in school won't give me a second chance.
I don't expect them to.
But they might be very surprised how I live my life now a days. I'm 23 now. I work for the Ministry of Magic. And I bet you 5 Galleons that you would never guess what department I work for.
The Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, under the guidance of Arthur Weasley.
Surprising, isn't it? You would think, after all the teasing I put Ron though about where his father works, that I wouldn't be caught dead in that department. Well, I must admit, the pay is actually quite good, it's just that Arthur has so many children, no wonder they had to stretch every last Kunt. I can tell you this now, Lizzy and I don't plan on having seven children. "Who's Lizzy?" you may wonder.
Lizzy is my fiancé and the love of my life. She was a year behind us at Hogwarts, in Hufflepuff. She knew of me while I was at school, but I had never met her until she started working in The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Apparently, Hagrid's class (no matter how dangerous it got... and it could've, even Harry agrees to it) was one of her favorites. She told me once that she would've become a Muggle doctor for animals if she hadn't come to Hogwarts. A Veterinarian... I think that's what she said.
Yes. Lizzy is Muggle born.
Well, don't look so surprised. I have to say, they first time I met her; she didn't like me very much. Was still stuck in the past, thinking that I was still like my 15-year-old self. But, people change. And she understood that. So, now we're getting married next year.
Amazing how life turns out, huh?
"Draco?" Draco Malfoy heard a soft voice call for him. "Are you going to sit at your desk all day, or are you going to come home to bed?"
Draco looked up to find a pair of warm hazel eyes looking down at him. His fiancé Lizzy, with her arms full of papers and folders, stared at him with her head cocked slightly to the side. Her voice had broken him out of deep thought.
"Oh, Lizzy, I didn't see you there." Lizzy giggled a bit.
"Course you didn't. You were staring into space with the blank expression of a man who had just been kissed." And she didn't mean the good kind of kiss either. She had meant a kiss from a Dementor. Draco rolled his eyes and stood up, straightening up his desk a bit and collecting his things. "What were you doing anyway? I seem to remember you being off over an hour ago." Draco shrugged.
"I was just... thinking." Lizzy's brow scrunched up, as she was confused.
"You rarely do deep thinking like that anymore. What were you thinking about?" Draco smiled, amused by her confused look.
"I was thinking about how cute you look when you're confused." He said, brushing a strand of long, brown hair out of her eyes. Lizzy rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Don't tell me." She said, pouting. Draco's smile softened and he kissed her forehead gently.
"It's nothing to worry about. The front page in the Prophet just sparked some memories, that's all." He put an arm around her waist. "Let's go, shall we?" and they walked out of the office, together.
On Draco's desk, lies The Daily Prophet with a very familiar picture on the front page. It was a group shot of everyone in the Order of the Phoenix, along with those students that fought bravely against Voldermort. Everyone was smiling under the headline that reads:
Five-Year Anniversary of the Defeat of Lord Voldermort: The Story Behind The Heroes.
Funny how life works, isn't it? You would've thought that I, Draco Malfoy, would've been part of those who were defeated by Harry and the Order. But, there I am. My 17-year-old self, waving merrily with the rest of those who defeated Voldermort.
Life is pretty damn good.
Greetings from Lunar! How was it? Good? Bad? ::Puppy eyes:: I hope I did well. I just felt I had to muse over Draco a bit. I really do believe that he's not a total asshole. I just think he's like that because of how he was brought up, so I really wanna see him turn out to be a good guy. And I really think he will, if what the Sorting Hat said in OOTP was true. And it makes sense. Oh, J. K. Rowling needs to publish her books faster, she has no idea how much torture she's putting her fans through.
Well, I hope you enjoyed my spur of the moment fic. Please review nicely, as flames are used to make s'mores and/or just roasted marshmallows (but that's only if I don't have chocolate)