I have always wondered what my father sees when he looks at me. It has been over ten years since I've seen him happy, but in those ten years he had descended into alcoholism and fought his way back to sobriety. It would be too simple to say that he sees failure when he sees me. It would also be too simple to say that he sees his own father in the way we interact. Isn't it simply the fate of all Malfoy men to fall into the trap of wizarding aristocracy?
My father and mother supposedly love each other. Their marriage, like all those before them, was arranged. Over two hundred years after the height of the Regency era in England, and pureblood wizards still held fast to their beliefs regarding marriage and propriety. Marriage was always simply an economic contract. In the case of my parents, my mother's good name and credibility would help reestablish the Malfoys to prominence. My arrival would solidify this new line.
Is that what happens to the men in my family? After leaving school and becoming of age, is it simpler to just follow the traditions set forth for you? My grandfather and father both married women that were selected and approved by their parents. The courtships lasted exactly one year. The men proposed with their paternal grandmother's engagement ring. The women accepted and after an engagement period of another year, the wedding was held in the gardens of the Malfoy Manor. The wedding was never large, limited to only fifty of the closest friends and relatives.
They produced one male heir and that was the end of it. Eventually somewhere the father would become discontent with his station and would grow distant and cold. His indifference would always be clearly understood by the male heir, who looked for some way to escape, but found it easier to follow a thousand years of tradition than to find the courage to defy it.
What would happen if I fell in love with a witch who wasn't a pureblood? Would that be the way to escape this cycle? If I were to find some strength of character to escape from the confined future mapped out for me, would I be welcomed by the men in my life? Would they deride me for my actions and then behind closed doors be eternally grateful that someone found the way out?
As I stood on the day that was supposed to be yet another in the short list of days that were to be the happiest of my life, I couldn't help feeling an uncomfortable sense of resolution wash over me. I somehow knew I would end up as my father had. So I stood awkwardly, beside my father, in a slightly younger, more modern version of the grey dress robes he was wearing. My mother stood on his other side, also in dress robes that bore the family crest. We stood silently, posing for the family portrait that no one would take. No one really approached us, save the few Slytherins whose families were acquainted with ours. The Potters and Weasley clans nodded a curt acknowledgment but carried on their merrymaking as Rose Weasley (a Gryffindor prefect and bludger) and Albus Potter (the Head Boy) were both graduating.
After wallowing in self-pity covertly behind this mask of detachment that Malfoy men all perfected, I noticed that she had begun to walk over. Olivia Fletchley was the Head Girl from Ravenclaw, and she was one of the few people that ever bothered to really speak to me. She had introduced herself to my parents before I even realized she was standing before me. My mother was instantly smitten with the affable girl. My father remained as aloof as ever.
Olivia was always incredibly well liked. Most pretty girls are, regardless of personality. This one actually had something to substantiate this general affection. Olivia wisely spent a few minutes of socializing with my parents and exchanging pleasantries that were too common at this sort of thing. Each answer she gave endeared herself even further to my mother.
"How did you meet our boy, dear?" Mother asked curtly.
"Cassie introduced us. She was a prefect in my house and asked for me to keep an eye on him." I cringed at this revelation. My older cousin tended to coddle me for being a lonely yet self-righteous brat. Mother knew I was painfully shy, something she blamed on my father for not being around. My father found this all to be new and disappointing. While he knew that he had crippled me socially with his war history and his absence, he hadn't expected that this was public knowledge. He clearly hadn't read the society pages. It was fairly common knowledge that I was a bored, silent loner, who drifted through the halls of Hogwarts as if I was bidding my time for something better. I was.
Mother saw the confusion in my father's eyes and quickly turned to, "what are your plans for the future, Miss Fletchley?"
"I'm actually going to be working at Obscurus Books. Editorial Assistant. For the time being, at least. I'd really like to expand the amount of accessible wizarding plays. I find wizard theatre to be something that could be thriving, yet doesn't. I think it has a lot to do with the traditions of the publishing world," Olivia stated firmly. I watched as my mother's eyebrow rose in surprise. Most levelheaded young people took entry-level positions at the Ministry upon graduating. The best and brightest quickly rose through the ranks, but here was a young woman who intended to work somewhere else entirely.
I glanced at my father, whose confusion seemed to be growing by the minute. He was unsure of this solid young woman. He was also unsure of his son. It was then I was certain that I was not the boy he was. I may have hinted at growing into a cocky son of bitch, like he was, but I simply wasn't a younger version of my father, but somehow that fear of becoming like him was too overpowering. It was easier to continue the cycle, wasn't it? All the posturing and play-acting in his presence was not at all what I was.
My mother noted the awkwardness between my father and myself and quickly corrected the situation by asking my father to join her on a walk around the castle. She sent us off toward the greenhouses, while she dragged my father off to have another one of her talks with him.
"So Malfoy, what are you going to do with yourself?" she asked as we walked away from the festivities and from the tension that was always lingering in my family. I cast a quick look over my shoulder to catch a rare moment of affection between my parents, as my father pressed his lips against my mother's temple. It was off-putting, especially considering the circumstances under which we had just parted. Father was unpredictable in that way.
"Scorpius-" Olivia prompted. I cleared my throat and thought about the right answer.
"I haven't truly decided. Probably end up working for my father," I shrugged. I realized I didn't have an actual answer to her question, and that dealing in my father's business was less and less an option, since the Ministry had continue to seize some of his effects to repay for war damages.
"That's a shame," she sighed. That wasn't the response I had expected. She walked up a few feet before sitting under a tree. I joined her and continued the conversation.
"Why?" I asked, still irritated by her response.
"I always thought you had potential to be something great. It's always the quiet ones, innit?" she joked.
"I always fancied myself the silent brooding type," I retorted. She laughed and rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.
"Don't flatter yourself."
We laughed at this for a while, before I realized she had placed her hand over mine.
"I'm sorry I never asked you out," she smiled as she traced my fingers with hers. I snatched my hand away awkwardly and angrily.
"Wait, you ask me out?"
She shrugged at my amazement. "Like you'd ever ask me."
Suddenly I felt bold. "It's not too late," I smirked, using the only charm Malfoy men ever exhibited.
"Well then." She was challenging me. Her bright blue eyes shone in the dusk as she waited for my response. In her eyes, I could see that she already knew what I was going to say. It was exactly what she wanted me to say.
"What are you doing next week?"
She leaned over and kissed me gently. It was unexpected but very welcome. When our lips parted, I couldn't stop the silly grin that had now replaced my miserable trademark pout.
"I believe I'm having coffee with you, Wednesday afternoon, at that new cafe in Diagon Alley."
Here I was, on the day of my graduation, with the entire world ahead of me. A beautiful girl had invited me to spend time with her. She was a girl that surely would've disappointed my grandfather, had he been alive. But Olivia is the only person that made me happy. She was my only true friend throughout school, and she would always be that true.
As we returned home that evening, my parents continually teased me for the self-satisfied smirk that was upon my lips. My mother had nothing but praise to offer to the young woman who inspired this swift change. My father was left completely speechless at the whole scene. He never asked what Olivia and I spoke about, nor did he inquire into the plans I mentioned for the coming week. He looked at me as if I were a piece of a puzzle that didn't quite fit. I was flat where I should've been round. I was simply off. I did not fit easily into the long unhappy tradition of Malfoy men. I couldn't.
Perhaps I would see the answer to those questions that never ceased in my mind. I had a date with a beautiful woman who was not at all what Malfoy men expected. I already liked her well enough. I could even see myself loving a woman like her. She may be the way to break this long history of self-abuse and self-hatred. She may not. It doesn't matter. Olivia was my choice, and I would enjoy every minute of this. Hopefully, in time, my forefathers would understand this. Someone had to do it.