Anyway, I love to write about Draco because he's got such a variety of sides and unexplored depths to his character.
I'm writing this story for two reasons.
1.) I'm sick of reading (and writing, lol) stuff that has Draco being physically abused at home, gay, (I hate when he's gay) a death eater, Hermione lover (even though I write those) or a fluffy person at heart. (Which I tend to write as well.)
2.) I love writing about him and I need a break from the sequel to All Things Fall Into Place. So, the point of this really long authors note is just to tell you what made me want to write this story in the first place.
This story is just Draco, all by himself. A one man show if you would. These are his feelings, (the ones I think he could be feeling) misc. thoughts and emotions.
If you want to read another great Draco story, check out badgrrrl's "Psst....Do You Wanna Know Draco's Secret?" It's in my fave stories. The idea of Draco secretly liking Muggles comes from that. That story rocks so much, it's really funny.
And oh yeah, this is a one chapter thing, it won't be very long at all. In fact, the story will probably be shorter than this author's note, lol.
Invincible
As I sit here, writing my stupid essay on vampires for the stupid Defense Against The Dark Arts class for that stupid werewolf, I wonder. Where would I be if life were different? If stupid Harry Pot-head the boy who lived a curse only once, had just shaken my hand that first day, would he be the hero he is now? Probably. But would I be so hated? Yeah, probably.
Being a Malfoy is not the easiest thing in the world. Or as Muggles would say, it's not a "piece of cake". Malfoys, since the beginning of time have been respected and above every other wizarding family. We are rich, conceited, cold-hearted, mean and cruel. It's in the very blood flowing through our veins.
I may be all those things mentioned, but for some reason, my blood isn't as tainted as my fathers. I may carry some Malfoy genes, but I'm not the person I pretend to be.
It's all a facade. Always has been. I'm catty because he tells me to. I hate Harry Potter, Mudbloods and Weasleys because he tells me to. I worship the Dark Lord Voldemort because he does. I walk with an air of confidence because I have to.
All of that is expected of me.
Sometimes I wonder if I even have any feelings all my own. Or does he control everything? I wonder where he ends and I begin.
I am his son, his heir. But he doesn't treat me any differently from the house elves. Except he buys me clothes.
He treats my mother with some respect, but not the respect she deserves. She's almost always scared, but like me, pretends that she's something she's not. Except with her, she pretends she loves me and my father.
I've never felt love and I've never known anyone to show love. That is the only thing in this life that leaves me completely baffled and confused.
I wonder if maybe Father only married my mother so she would produce an heir for him. A boy. If I had been a girl, would he have killed me? I think that he would have. Lucius Malfoy does not have a caring, loving bone in his entire body. He thinks that I don't either. He thinks we are a lot alike, he and I. But we're not. It's not exactly day and night or good and evil, but there are subtle differences that he'd see if he just took the time.
I do have his cold, gray eyes. The calculating ones, the surveying ones, the chilling ones. That's the only thing that I have that resembles my father. That, and the burning tracking devise on my forearm.
No matter how much he wants me to be, how much he pushes, I will not be my father. Not ever.
I am a Slytherin, I am a Death Eater in training and I am a Malfoy, but I am not a bad guy.
He has big plans for me, he says. He owls me once a month with them. They all, more or less, include the same things. That I WILL become a Death Eater. That I WILL worship Lord Voldemort. That I WILL kill Harry Potter when we hit 18.
But what he doesn't know, is that those are not my plans. I have higher expectations for myself. I value my self worth even though sometimes I question it as well.
I don't plan to kill Harry Potter, I don't plan to become a Death Eater or worship Voldemort.
I intend to kill Voldemort. I intend to renounce the Death Eaters and I intend to become the Minister of Magic. I will be the next Cornelius Fudge. In secret, he's my hero. I also have great respect for Arthur Weasley, Ron's father. He is a Muggle loving fool, and in secret so I am.
I have always had a fascination with all things Muggle. Just like him. When I heard that Ron Weasley and Harry Potter flew a bewitched automobile into the Whomping Willow, I yearned to do that as well. For the first time, I was seriously jealous of Potter.
I am jealous of him now. He's got good friends, a family who don't expect anything of him and a godfather who's on the run. He gets good grades without trying too hard. Every teacher (except Snape) loves him. Every member of the wizarding world (except Death Eaters and Voldemort) love him. He's famous. He's got absurd luck, almost like invincibility. I envy that. I wish I were invincible. But in truth, I'm nothing but a Malfoy. A Malfoy who will be killed by his father when he finds out what I've been doing...what I'm planning.
I don't envy Potter's fame, not really. Because, in my own right, I have fame as well. Draco Malfoy, resident Slytherin bad-boy and Potter hater.
Sure, I make good grades too, but not without working my ass off. All Potter has to do is pretend his scar hurts and he gets excused from pretty much anything.
I may get respect from some people because of my surname, but I don't get respect from people just because I am who I am. Potter does. He's well respected across the continent. He doesn't pretend to be someone he's not. He doesn't have to. He can be himself. I envy that as well.
I wish I were invincible. Then I wouldn't feel my father's cold words. He drives them into my scull and from there it spreads all over my body, like being plunged into an ice bath. Ice baths are not fun. I've been in more than one in my life.
Apparently, they're good for you. But I ask you, how can a thousand icy daggers being plunged into your skin be good for you? Because that's what it feels like. And when you get out, you're numb all over. Sometimes, I wish I were numb all over all the time. Then I couldn't feel anything...in my heart.
I wish I were invincible because then I wouldn't care if the whole of Hogwarts hated me. They do. Most of them. But they're also scared of me. Perhaps fear is to my advantage. Because if they're scared, they'll stay away. And if they stay away, I won't have to bother with them.
I'm mostly a loner. During the holidays, I spend time in my huge bedroom which spans the whole third floor of Malfoy mansion. I read Muggle magazines, watch Muggle movies on what they call a VCR and I read Muggle novels. My father, of course, would strongly disapprove of my Muggle fascination, so he doesn't know about it. All my Muggle things are kept in the corner of my room with an invisibility charm warding people off. Lately, I've added more and more charms as I learn them just to be safe.
I can't risk my father finding out. It could get really ugly.
He's never beaten me, but he's always mistreated me. And been mentally abusive. I suppose that's what you call it when someone berates you by yelling and screaming and making fun of you. Sometimes, mental abuse is just as bad as physical. Sticks and stones may break my bones, and words can always hurt me.
There's a lot of emphasis on words in my mind. I work hard to enrich my vocabulary. Because words cause a lot of pain. And leave no visible scar so you can't get in trouble.
I have no visible scars. I don't have an ugly lightning bolt on my forehead. But important scars are never visible anyway. They are beneath the surface, lingering, causing you pain for the rest of your life. Holding you back.
When Hogwarts is over, I'll be glad. I intend to learn an invisibility charm as soon as I can. I'm reading up on them already. I long to be invisible. To wonder around aimlessly, just looking, watching and listening. You can't be seen, but you can be heard. I'm seen now and not heard. Not really.
For some reason, I sometimes wish I were born a Muggle. Not a high society, aristocratic, pure blood wizard. If my father knew that, he would beat me. And not just verbally.
We have dungeons at Malfoy Mansion. They are dark, dank and freezing. They span below the entire house. There are about 30 cells, each very tiny and most of them occupied. My father sometimes threatens to throw me in one. He hasn't yet, but I know it's not an empty threat. My father doesn't make empty threats.
I wish I could vanish expectations from the face of the earth. No good comes from them. All they do is let people down when the expectations aren't met. My father expects a lot from me, his son, his heir, his predecessor. His mini-me.
My favorite Muggle movie are the Austin Powers movies. They are stupid and funny. And for the hour and a half you watch them for, you don't have to think about your life. Your pathetic, horrible, miserable life.
I've never thought of taking my own life. Well, okay, I've thought about it. But I've never go so far as to try it. I have too much to live for, to look forward to.
Once I'm out from under my father's thumb, I'll be free. Free to be me. Free to be myself. Free to do what I want.
And I know that one day, I will. That day may not be today. But someday, I'll be me.
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I kind of liked that, it wasn't horrible, lol. I tried to get the thoughts to flow together well, but I'm not sure if I succeeded. If you liked it, review and let me know!
