Disclaimer: Er. I don't own it..
Pseudo Angels
Chapter 1 -------------
It had either been that or Azkaban. Draco had known that when he'd done it, that was the only reason he'd done it. But it was an empty sort of triumph that he felt as he proved his own innocence by selling Voldemort's followers to the ministry, one by one.
He'd been hailed as a hero by the entire wizarding world. They'd needed a hero- the Daily Prophet took Draco for a likely candidate and published a few articles about how his bravery as a spy had led to Voldemort's downfall. The public ate it up. The articles had failed to admit that Draco had been on his way to the dementor's kiss had he not given the information. They'd edited out the picture with his forearm in view, conveniently forgetting to mention that he was marked as a death eater. They'd omitted the fact that most of the names he'd told the ministry were those of his friends and relatives.
Omitted the fact that he was a traitor.
They'd made him look good, and by the time they were finished, there was hardly a witch or wizard in Europe who didn't believe it. They half believed it themselves.
The only one who didn't believe it was Draco Malfoy himself. It would have been funny, almost, had it been anyone but himself. Harry Potter himself had taken Draco aside and gave him a speech about how wrong he'd been, how he shouldn't have judged Draco so harshly. He'd practically licked Draco's feet, begging for forgiveness. Draco had wanted to tell him to go to Hell.
But he hadn't. He was actually rather proud of himself. When a random first year Hufflepuff or Gryffindor came running up to him, congratulating him, trying to be his friend, he hadn't told them to go to Hell, either, tempting as it was. He'd been civil to everyone. He'd even agreed to let Harry help him with his Arithmacy. The boy had been practically falling head over heels in an effort to become friends with the Malfoy. Draco really didn't know why, to be honest. Maybe he thought if he became friends with the blonde, his old position as hero would return at least a little. Fame by association. Draco didn't really care. He'd tried hard not to laugh at the hypocrisy of it all and left for potions class.
It had been the same day that Professor McGonagall had stopped him in the hall and offered him a house switch to Gryffindor. "We see that you may have. changed.. since you first came to our school," she had explained.
He'd been close to ending the civility record right there-it was so tempting to shoot back a cutting remark about how she'd been the one who changed. How no teacher in the entire school had bothered to learn anything about him before he'd 'changed'. But he hadn't. He'd just shook his head and walked away, seething. And when he returned to his common room and found that nothing had changed and no one spoke to him, he still didn't regret it.
Pseudo Angels
Chapter 1 -------------
It had either been that or Azkaban. Draco had known that when he'd done it, that was the only reason he'd done it. But it was an empty sort of triumph that he felt as he proved his own innocence by selling Voldemort's followers to the ministry, one by one.
He'd been hailed as a hero by the entire wizarding world. They'd needed a hero- the Daily Prophet took Draco for a likely candidate and published a few articles about how his bravery as a spy had led to Voldemort's downfall. The public ate it up. The articles had failed to admit that Draco had been on his way to the dementor's kiss had he not given the information. They'd edited out the picture with his forearm in view, conveniently forgetting to mention that he was marked as a death eater. They'd omitted the fact that most of the names he'd told the ministry were those of his friends and relatives.
Omitted the fact that he was a traitor.
They'd made him look good, and by the time they were finished, there was hardly a witch or wizard in Europe who didn't believe it. They half believed it themselves.
The only one who didn't believe it was Draco Malfoy himself. It would have been funny, almost, had it been anyone but himself. Harry Potter himself had taken Draco aside and gave him a speech about how wrong he'd been, how he shouldn't have judged Draco so harshly. He'd practically licked Draco's feet, begging for forgiveness. Draco had wanted to tell him to go to Hell.
But he hadn't. He was actually rather proud of himself. When a random first year Hufflepuff or Gryffindor came running up to him, congratulating him, trying to be his friend, he hadn't told them to go to Hell, either, tempting as it was. He'd been civil to everyone. He'd even agreed to let Harry help him with his Arithmacy. The boy had been practically falling head over heels in an effort to become friends with the Malfoy. Draco really didn't know why, to be honest. Maybe he thought if he became friends with the blonde, his old position as hero would return at least a little. Fame by association. Draco didn't really care. He'd tried hard not to laugh at the hypocrisy of it all and left for potions class.
It had been the same day that Professor McGonagall had stopped him in the hall and offered him a house switch to Gryffindor. "We see that you may have. changed.. since you first came to our school," she had explained.
He'd been close to ending the civility record right there-it was so tempting to shoot back a cutting remark about how she'd been the one who changed. How no teacher in the entire school had bothered to learn anything about him before he'd 'changed'. But he hadn't. He'd just shook his head and walked away, seething. And when he returned to his common room and found that nothing had changed and no one spoke to him, he still didn't regret it.