The Change

Some call me ignorant, I never notice anything further than my own pointed nose. Some may say I am the definition of high class, I walk around thinking the world should fall to its knees in front of me and be lucky if I gave them a second glance. When I was younger I looked up to my father greatly, I never questioned, never thought, I was like a house elf doing his bidding; believing what he wanted me to believe. I was the model son. Until the end of my 5th year that is. In my 5th year I stopped thinking the world ended a diameter away from me. It was the 1st time I noticed someone other than myself. She was beauty personified, she wasn't the striking beauty that made you glance twice, no, her beauty was a lot more intoxicating. You looked at her and all you seen was her. She pulled you in, taking your breathe away; and when her big brown eyes glanced my way and she looked straight at me, piercing me, I swore she could see right through me. When she looked away I felt almost empty. From then on my body would prickle when she walked into a room or near me, sometimes I wouldn't even notice her but my body reacted the moment it sensed her presence, betraying me.

I could never act on my desire for the youngest weasley, she was the forbidden fruit and it repulsed me, the fact that I wanted her but worst of all, It repulsed me because I could not have her.

I was brought up believing that feelings and emotions were weaknesses, so from an early age I hid my emotions behind a brick wall which soon became my heart. I had no real friends, only people who were afraid of the Malfoy name. I became stone, a blank canvas, portraying no real thoughts or emotions of my own; I was my fathers puppet but then she came along an all she had to do was look at me, actually look at me, not at my name, but at the man that I was and my once air tight stone wall began to crumble. I knew that in that moment she really saw me, I wasn't just a clone of my father, strutting around the school interrogating people, I was a man, just a man and it was I who was finally brought to my knees in front of her.

After that I went after Ginerva weasley, I made her life hell, she made me feel, if only for a moment. She made my mind and body work in ways it never had before. So I taunted her, called her names and every time she cried a bit of me died with her. I believed this to be my punishment, for letting myself be reduced to a ball of nerves, I wasn't like other people, so I couldn't let my emotions take over. My punishment for my moment of weakness was to have her look at me with her usually big, brown shining eyes, which for anyone else would have held laughter and innocence but when she looked at me now all I could see was revulsion and hatred. I ached for her but I could not confide in her, her life would be in danger if I did and I couldn't have that. So I carried her around with me, it was my burden, my punishment. I seen her with other guys and my stone walls would break once again. How could she look at another man when she should be with me? I would begin the process all over again, each time, the battle within myself raged but my head always ruled. I couldn't be ruled by desire and normal human impulses, I was different, I had a destiny, I couldn't run to her, hold her, kiss her ... have her.

As the years passed, I had many woman, most were repulsed by the tattoo which adorned my right forearm. To me, it was my burden, a remembrance of the price I had to pay. The tattoo reminded me of what I had sacrificed for the greater good. Reminded me of the life I had left behind. Even now, when I wanted to run to her doorstep and hold her, cry in her arms but then I would feel the burning on my forearm and know that she could never be mine, not completely.

I had made my choice. I became a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. She changed me, without even realising it, she made me a better man. I knew it was a silly ideal but I wanted to change so that one day, when she looked at me she wouldn't see the face of a deatheater staring back at her, she would just see me, like she did, just once before. I hated Potter, thou I changed sides, I still couldn't bare to look at him. He had my Ginerva, he was her hero and you could see the worshipping looks she gave only when looking at him.

That soon changed

As the war raged on in the wizarding world, I had a few fleeting glances at Ginerva. Although she did not no it, I was always there, watching her, protecting her; I caught many of the deatheaters sending lustful looks in her direction and they were soon punished for looking and desiring a 'filthy mudblood lover'. It was the only way I could protect her without blowing my cover. Although I saw her, she never saw me, I was accustomed to living in the shadow, until the final battle.

T he end of the war was near, you could sense it in the air. Potter lead the Order of the Phoenix and I stood shoulder to shoulder with the deatheaters, waiting for my signal to turn my wand against them. The tattoo on my arm burned and I knew the time had come to finally declare my allegiance to the Order of the Phoenix, I turned on the spot and started hexing any deatheater that I found, stunning them, knocking them to the ground. The surprise in their eyes was almost worth the years in isolation, having no one to confide in in case they learned of my treachery. Finally I could let the world no that I wasn't the monster that they all believed me to be, that I had never been their dark prince, not for a long time anyway. Potter was facing Voldermort, as should be. That was his destiny, the boy who lived, my destiny, I now realised, was to lock up as many deatheaters as possible, I wasn't the hero, and I was OK with that, I was comfortable in the shadows, I didn't need to be bathed in light.

That's when I seen it, from the corner of my eye, flaming red hair flying across my vision. I ran to her, my Ginerva. I kneeled in front of her, she was groggy but at least she was still alive. At that moment, she opened her eyes and she looked at me, really looked at me, like she had done only once before. And I knew that all the years of lying and secrecy was worth it, because in that moment she knew that I wasn't a monster and she knew that I never had been. This was why I had changed sides, so that when this moment did come, she would know that I had done everything that I had done, for her.

I stood up, my back to her as I lifted my wand to the thing that had tried to kill her, I was so revolted to think that someone wanted to harm the beautiful woman who was lying at my feet. I hexed the deatheater who was making his way towards me, wanting to hurt her. I needed to protect her. I bent down and lifted her into my arms. My only mission now was to protect her, keep her safe, I couldn't live in a world which Ginerva wasn't a part of. Potter could go and save the world , but I was content in knowing that I had saved her. Even if, after today she did not look at me, I had accomplished what I had wanted to since that day at the end of my 5th year. I took her to my mansion and I lay her in my bed as I draped the covers over her, keeping her warm. My father had long since died and as the only Malfoy heir I had been left the estate and everything that had once been my fathers. Now that the battle was near its end, I began to think about what I wanted from life now that I was free. I realised that all I wanted, all I ever wanted was laying in the bed in front of me, I wanted my life to be with her, I wanted little red headed children with pointed noses and freckled faces. I wanted it all, but only with her.

The next morning I got an owl from Potter, we had won the war. Voldermort was dead, at the hands of the boy who lived.

It has been 15 years since that day and I still lay awake at night staring at the beauty laying next to me. She was my one and only love and she was finally mine. We were wed a year after the finally battle and since then we have had 3 beautiful children, 2 boys who are the image of their father with there mothers warm and generous heart and my daughter who is a miniature Ginerva and I love them all greatly. After the battle Ginerva informed me that she had always known from that glance in my 5th year that I was destined for better things and that from that moment she had always believed that I would be a better person, she had loved me, always loved me from that first moment. Looking back on my life I wouldn't have changed a thing, everything that we have went through has made us the people that we are to day. Potter may have won the war and saved us all, but in the end she was the one who saved me from myself and I could never thank her enough for the life that she has given me.