Slytherin was probably for the misunderstood. For the lonely. For the broken. Because as far as Draco Malfoy knew, it was. Every single Slytherin, be it a young first-year or any other year, was misunderstood at some point. They were ostracized from every other house. Just because one person made one bad decision. Voldemort, they said sneeringly, was from Slytherin. So all Slytherin's were essentially evil as well. Fools, the lot of them. They were automatically labeling 11 year-olds as evil.
There were two types of Slytherin's. The broken and the proud, and the broken and alone. Most of the younger Slytherin's fit in the latter, but eventually over time they became broken and proud. There were the few anomalies who stayed broken and alone. Such as one Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. Although Blaise stayed around with Draco's group, he was usually silent and quiet about his thoughts. Draco considered himself to be broken and proud. He knew he was broken, but wearing that arrogant facade was what kept him sane.
Every Slytherin knew what it meant when you were in a group. It meant that you were scared. Lonely even. The formations of a group were simple. You trusted them and they trusted you. You knew where their boundaries were and they knew yours. It was that very foundation that kept Slytherin alive. The pillars that held them up were eachother.
Slytherin's were cautious. For good reason too. There used to be openly kind Slytherins, practically a legend they are, but they were ultimately taken advantage of. Slytherins were typically rich, spoiled brats. It was the image they had to uphold. And the one thing people want with rich, spoiled, and slightly naïve brats was money.
Almost all of the pure bloods in Slytherin had been held at ransom before. Some more than others, but still held hostage against their will. Some weren't saved fast enough, while others had the grace of being saved much too fast. Theodore Nott, for example, was the formerly mentioned. He had been taken, but his father couldn't find him fast enough. He was tortured to the point of not being able to breathe. Draco remembered being terrified, seeing Theo in that state, his blood oozing out of his body. He was pretty sure that his heart had stopped in his shock.
Draco also had a period of torture once. It was with Pansy and Blaise, when they were 8 years old. He remembered the feeling of fear and confusion. He wasn't aware of why he was held hostage. His captors were kicking him into the ground, asking him where his family heirlooms were. Not that he knew back then, but they obviously didn't believe him. He also remembered being stabbed in the leg. Blaise was knocked out with a rock to his head, and Pansy was given illegal pleasure potions. Those sick men had just sat there, leecherously watching her. He saw how infuriated his father was when he found them. His father had Crucio'd them to no point of return, then finished off with a few Avada Kedavra's.
Then there was the incident with the awful werewolf. Remus Lupin. Disgusting. Just the thought of him made him feel repulsed. That man had brought out a Boggart for one of his damned "lessons". Draco saw the way he mirthfully watched as they struggled with the class. His eyes gleaming with something similar to revenge. Draco had all but declared that he was going to leave as soon as one of the more innocent first years stepped up. The rest of the Slytherin's had gladly ditched the class along with him, ignoring Lupin's protests. Draco had gotten a mouthful of Snape and his father, but he could tell how relived they both were. Snape, for the protection of his students. His father was a different matter entirely. He had never seen such a proud look in his father's eyes.
Potter. Draco didn't hate Potter. On the contrary, he was awed by him sometimes. Not that he would ever openly admit it. Potter was everything he wasn't. Strong, proud, reckless. Potter was, quite honestly, the ideal Gryffindor. However, Potter was just a tool at his disposal in the end. Potter and his bloody idealism could go rot in one of his godfather's cauldrons for all he cared.
The next time he saw his father, Draco knew. He knew that the end was near. His father was broken beyond compare. The way he slumped to the ground after a particularly hard fight, and the egoistic pride gone from his eyes. There was no going back now. He had to get rid of Potter. And it wasn't just for his childish whims anymore, this was for salvation. Atonement. To finally be able to let his father rest in peace. He wouldn't be a coward this time. This time...he would give up everything for the peace his father deserved.
AUGH. This is the most choppy thing I have ever written. But this was a short little thing I typed during my Health class's drug seminar. So no editing whatsoever. I usually type these in class, so anything I type in class never really gets edited. But I'm gonna take a nap now, so review and favorite. Goodbye and go eat tofu?