Also Known As

Every action has a reaction. Every story has two sides. Usually you side with whoever tells that story better. So maybe you should give the other side a chance. This is the story of Draco Malfoy. The real story.

Disclaimer: If I owned any of this, do you think I would post it on a fanfiction site? Even if it was a really awesome site?

A/N: I know there are probably hundreds of others just like this, and they could even be better. But give this one a chance. Please? And if you hate it, go see if you can make a better one. Then review.

1

First year

A Malfoy

Draco Malfoy softly closed the door, and called down in a calm voice "I`ll be down for dinner." After that he threw himself on to his magnificent four-poster bed and started angrily punching the pillow. He got in hundreds or thousannds of jabs, all so rapid that he couldn't count them. Finnally he flopped down on his back to stare up at the ceiling, trying to calm down. Why isn't anything I do good enough? He thought desprately.

That afternoon, he had been playing quiditch with Crabbe and Goyle. Both Crabbe and Goyle were idiotits, and a bit heavy for a fragile broomstick. Parkinson the Pug-face had come too, but she was only there to watch and make woey comments that disgusted Draco. He hadn't wanted to be alone with those three, so some other neighborhood kids had been invited too. And no one passes up the chance to see Malfoy Manor.

It secretly hurt Draco that the only reason other people came was for the manor, and not because they could care less about him, but he acted like he was fine, swaggering about and bragging for his families manor. Because a Malfoy never shows his feelings, always keeps them bottled up. Until he sees a pillow Draco thought with a guilty smile.

So they were all playing well enough when someone had the bright idea that they should all team up on a single person. So, like a good Malfoy, Draco voluteered.

He played as Beater, Seeker, Keeper, and Chaser all at the same time. It wasn't exactly easy. Yet by some miracle he won. Draco actually cuaght the snitch before too many goals were scored. He won nine to one. He saw his father watching, and for the first time in a long time, Draco was glad his father saw him do something.

But did his father congratulate him for winning against everything? No, Lusius simply said disdainfuly; "I would have been quiker than a real game many more points than 40 coukld easily have been scored while you sat idleing"

Draco didn't get mad. He just said "yes Father", and waited to be dismissed. Like always. Lusius had slapped him across the face, for his 'tone'. Like always. But this time it was in front of his friends. Not that Draco cared. He was a Malfoy.

Oh yes, he was a Malfoy. No Mudbloods, filthy half-bloods, no muggles, stinking weasleys. A pure-blood Malfoy.

Draco wished he wasn't sometimes. What was so wrong with mudbloods? It was kind of cool, actually, to be born with magic without ever having magical family. But even the thought of that made Draco guilty. What an awful, un-Malfoyish thought. Draco groaned, rolled over, then got up and started punching the pillow again.

Better it than his father.

A/N: Short, but I wanted to have just a bit to explain exactly why he has to hate any one without pure blood. Poor, poor Draco. ;) Anyway, review!