Be proud of your blood. I can't even begin to fathom the atrocious number of times I've been told this, by my father, mother, peers, pretty much anybody who's ever been of any use to me. This also means, however, knowing that those with lesser blood than you are worthless little pests in our world. Ever since I was a young boy I've believed this to be, without a doubt, true, seeing myself in a grand light while everyone else bows before me. I'd duel with all opposing until they had no choice but to deal with the fact that I'm just better than them. I mean, it's not my fault that I was born into the uppermost class of wizards, and it isn't their fault that they were born as the lesser beings. It's just something you need to accept and live on with accordingly, right?
Unfortunately, as I mature and get a right mind of my own, I'm seeing more and more that what I've believed all my life is not the case.
My name is Draco Malfoy. I am pureblood, a student attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and am placed in the Slytherin house. Those who know me always think of me to one extreme: they either admire and love me, or they hate my guts and would love to find me dead. This reality is one that I created myself as a younger student at Hogwarts, and truthfully, I hate myself for it. Though I'd never let it show, I'm extremely unsatisfied with my life. All I really have ahead of me is an opportunity to be a servant of the Dark Lord, truly an honor but something I've discovered I don't really want. I cannot have what I really want in this life, though. I can never have that. The reason? The cursed blood status that runs every wizard's life. The thing I once thought to be my blessing is now a bloody curse.
As I look back on my life, I see that everything I've done is all because of my blood. Because of my blood, I am a Slytherin. Because of my blood, I curse at and mock a good portion of the students at Hogwarts, and am therefore brutally hated by so many. Because of my blood, I've ended up with that horrid beast Pansy Parkinson. I'll admit it, my blood has formed my life, and it's already ruined me.
Speaking of which, I'll now stop complaining about my life, and I'll get on to my point in narrating this to you.
I guess I can say that my realizations started about the time that I started dating Pansy. This happened during my fifth year, just at the age when everybody really starts maturing and finding out who they really are. Let me tell you, a younger Draco was perfect for such a velociraptor-like girl. I'm serious when I say that Pansy would rip apart anybody she felt like doing so to. I was sort of like a less catty version of Pansy when I was younger, so you can see why we started becoming romantically involved.
The girl adored me. While she became a vicious monster of sorts around anyone from Gryffindor house, most specifically that Hermione Granger, she was as cuddly and loving as a kitten around me. Sure, I felt the same as she did when we first started going out, but after time she just seemed so… Hard to hold a real conversation with; she was very clingy, and it became increasingly annoying.
But I kept acting like everything was perfectly fine.
What I realized was that something that seemed annoying to me was how relentlessly mean she acted. My realizing that was so confusing; after all, wasn't that how I treated people, too? After pondering this ridiculous scenario for a few days I just decided to dismiss it as myself being hypocritical and that I'd just have to deal with it. It was always easiest to believe that any bad situation that occurred was only due to things I could change if I so wanted.
It turned out this was not nearly the end of my worries.
-END OF CHAPTER 1-
