A Serpent of Poor Faith

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. Characters etc. belong to J. K. Rowling. This is a work of fanfiction.

There are some things you can change. I've never been very religious, but I've always thought that life was about choices. However we ended up on this earth, the end result was us being given more and more decisions to make. The older you get the more important they get, it seems. You learn from the easy choices you made at the early age to make the right choices when you're older. Or, sometimes, you look to those who're older than you to see what choices you should make to achieve the same position.

I've always been one to make bad choices, but that was always something I thought I couldn't change, so I didn't try to do anything about that. I've always been Draco Malfoy. You can't change who you are, right? That's what I always figured. You are who you are for as long as you are. And I started off being me. In fact, I was probably who I am before I even existed, because my parents were planning for me for so long. Looking forward to me.

I was born with silvery hair, which is sort of strange, if you ask me, but not unheard of. I was also born with blue eyes. I've seen pictures of me when I was a baby. I was very cute, the sort of baby who'd just sit there, smiling. And what did I have to frown about? Nothing. I envy the little baby in those pictures, but then, who doesn't envy that past state of blissful dependency? You didn't have to do anything for yourself, and you couldn't even feel guilty for it, or resent it, because you were just a cute little baby.

If I look at pictures of me when I'm older, you can see a clear difference. If I'm caught off-guard, I usually have a frown, or a sneer, or a smirk on my face. My hair is blond, not silver. My eyes are gray, not blue. Not even a little bit of blue, just very, very gray. The silver slipped out of my hair and into my eyes, or something, though I'm sure it doesn't work quite like that. Anyway, the main difference is that I'm not smiling. And what is there to smile about? Everything. I was such a little ingrate. People were being tortured while I was having tea, often the torture and the tea both came from my father, though I wasn't aware of that when I was very little.

Father never talked much about his death-eating activities. He never really came out and said he was a death-eater, but of course I figured it out eventually. We hung out with that sort of crowd, most of the time. Or, we hung out with classier people. When wizards came to dinner, they were always either cruel, or powerful, or rich, or, if they were a close friend of my father, all three.

I'm getting off-topic, though, aren't I? I tend to do that. Anyway, this isn't about dinner. At least, right now it isn't. It's about choices and changes, and how choices make changes, and how changes result in choices, and so on.

I suppose I should start from the beginning. Before I realized anything was wrong. Forgive me if I skip some parts, I have a tendency to go on and on about some things and completely forget others.

Author's Note: Thanks so much for reading! I deeply appreciate any reviews, regardless of whether they're positive or negative, and thank in advance those who end up leaving them. I hope you enjoyed this first bit, sorry it was rather short. :D Have a lovely day!