Disclaimer: I don't own the characters.
Just to be with you
Oh, it's you again? Well, take a seat, please. I suppose we'll start from where we left off last time. I'd like to thank you again for the lovely flowers. They really seem to brighten up the room.
What's that? Oh, you'd like me to start from the beginning? Well that's alright, I suppose. It's not exactly as though I've got anything better to do.
From the first day that I saw his blinding smile, I knew I was in for it. When I met him again on the train that first day to Hogwarts, I offered my hand. It was refused. I won't lie, it hurt that he was so quick to judge, but I'm really not what I seem.
Others see my façade as a Malfoy, the perfect son, the perfect leader, and the perfect death eater. I suppose that's the way life goes. What they don't know is that I'm absolutely petrified to allow people in to see the real Draco. Contrary to popular belief, my parents loved and raised me well. No, there was no abuse, physical or emotional, at home, and my parents are still smitten with each other. However, no matter what goes on at home, a Malfoy must always present an image of superiority and wealth to those beneath them. This apparently means everybody, according to my parents.
It was not a shock to me then, that when I first arrived at Hogwarts people reacted the way they did. Slytherins were already fearful and respectful of me, a mere first year. The other houses were threatened and hostile. But with him, impossible as it may seem, I truly believed it would be different. It's my own fault, I should have known better than to expect the innocent, courageous, and perfect being that he is to love me. Sometimes I wish I could turn back time, and do things over. Refuse my parents wishes for me to present my Malfoy mask, or to behave differently during our first encounter at Madame Malkins.
The connection we shared during our school years was so strong; I must admit I'm surprised we never really crossed the line between love and hate. If there is such a line.
It seemed to get worse every year, my heart would beat faster when he walked past, and I would grope at straws to draw his attention. Albeit, it was more of a childish pulling on pigtails kind of attention, but boys will be boys. It makes me laugh to think about it now, but I would do anything to be close to him. It's the only thing that I ever yearned for with my entire being.
My life would mean nothing without his presence. I shaped my life around him; completely unawares I was doing it until it was too late. I woke up in the morning just to see him at breakfast, and attend class just to antagonize him. I was there when he broke down, the pressure of the expectations of the wizarding world finally becoming too much. What I would have done to have been able to hold him close, and be able to absorb some of the pain myself. He was like a dream, an elusive dream.
The pain I felt when I saw him collapse on the battlefield was all-encompassing. I'd like to know what it must have looked like, death eater Malfoy crying over a fallen hero of the light? Over a Potter? I've been wasting away since that day, my very essence seeming to blow away with the wind.
Now I'm here, in this room, with you, telling you my story. I think it's my time, now. But please, feel free to continue to tell my story. I don't mind.
All I ever wanted was to be with him. And now I will be. I'll see him once again, and maybe, just maybe this time, he'll be able to see the truth.