A Malfoy is taught to always be proud; chin held high, always be sure of what you're doing, never hesitate. Well, I'm sure father would be proud of me now, as I sit on the cold stone floor, in hiding, as I have for the past few months. Nothing left to do but to think about the consequences of my actions….
I shouldn't be saying that; it wasn't specifically what I did that has caused this mess, but what I was forced to do: what was pushed on me. What was I supposed to do when my family was threatened by the life of an old man (however powerful he may be)? I wouldn't stand down, and let my mother and father die because I was too much of a coward to do something that would come eventually. I had my Malfoy pride.
But I wasn't sure. And that is why I hesitated. And this is why I am here.
The moment replays in my head over and over again: I couldn't say those two simple words, and fulfill my task. I wonder where I would have been now if I had. Surely, I would not be sitting on this floor. I would likely be basking myself in the Dark Lord's praise for having killed one of his greatest rivals. And I keep asking myself over and over again: why the hell didn't I do it? Why did Snape have to do it for me?
I wasn't sure. I didn't want to become the murderer of Albus Dumbledore. I still don't, in all my logic, understand why. Surely, as a Death Eater, I would have to kill and torture countless souls, and I was fully prepared for that; why was this any different?
Many would likely think that Snape and I would have gone back to our Lord. This is not the case, however. I still don't quite understand why. Snape has completed what the Dark Lord so profoundly wanted, why wouldn't he want to go back? The Dark Lord would surely commend him. I would likely get punished for my hesitance -both by our Lord, and my father- but I wouldn't expect that to be so significant.
It's strange, sometimes. I know this is what I want: to serve under my Lord, to please him in his reign, but I sometimes find myself dreaming of Hogwarts, and my life there: I think of the classes that I attended, and how easy most (the ones that were important, at least) were for me. I think of my old house mates, and how we used to sit in our dorm making fun of the Gryffindors. I think of how soft my bed was, lined in green satin, in comparison to this stone floor. I remember the delightful smells always coming from the kitchens, and thinking how the meals at my house always smelled better. I remember Hogsmade, and Quittage, and the feeling of flying…
And him.
My fists clench, and my nails dig into the flesh of my palms.
This is because of him. All of this chaos is because of one sad little boy that shouldn't even exist.
I wish he didn't. I wish he never had.
I never understood what was the big deal with the scar on his forehead. It was just a scar. Yes, maybe it gave him a connection to the Dark Lord, but everyone treated him like some god because of it, and what it meant: it made him the boy-who-lived, the world's precious little poster boy for the light. God, how it sickened me.
How he sickened me. How satisfying it was to land a punch to his precious little jaw, and to see his face distort in anger at the words coming out of my mouth, and how easy it was to make him livid. I won't lie that I enjoyed having such power and control over him. Not everyone would love him, and he couldn't get that through his thick skull
He was the cause of so many fucking problems.
I hate him.
You miss him.
No! Why in hell's name would I miss him? If anything, I want him dead! It's because of him that I'm here right now, and it's because of him that this is even happening!
I wish he'd died that night also. He was up on the tower with Dumbledore. Why didn't Snape kill him? Why didn't I kill him?
You miss him.
I let out a snarl, scraping my knuckles against the stone, as my hands pound on the rough texture. I feel the ache in the tender flesh of my knuckles.
Snape didn't tell me what happened when he caught up with the two of us. I'll always wonder why. I have to wonder if it's connected to the reason we're in hiding. Snape won't tell me anything; he's hardly here anyway. He only comes by to give me food and water, and to make sure I'm okay. The only thing he told me is that we're not going back to the Dark Lord at this moment. And it makes me angry; I hate not being aware of the situation, and I hate being left to wonder: wonder what my parents are doing, wonder what's going to happen to me, wonder what's going to happen to the world, wonder if I'll ever see his face again, so I can knock him out with the hardest punch I've ever given in my life.
See, you miss him.
"I don't miss him!" My voice tears at my throat, and reverberates through the small room. I take a deep breath. I'm shouting at nothing and no one; nobody can hear me. Perhaps that is a good thing; this at least released some of my pent up aggravation. The simple idea of me missing him is utterly and completely ridiculous. I swear the god I'm going insane in this little room.
There's nothing to do in here except to think and contemplate until my brain goes numb. To think about what happens next, and the consequences of this, of the actions brought upon me. This is what a Malfoy would do: think carefully, learn everything you can and do not make another move until the time is right. And since I am in fact a Malfoy, this is exactly what I'll do. Perhaps this will not shame my father, and the Malfoy name; this time, when I act, I will think of the consequences, and I will not hesitate when it comes time to act.
Fin.
Ok, I came up with this just now… a short little drabble (as always, it seems)
This is my response to the events of the 6th book. I haven't seen many things from Draco's perspective on this (maybe it's because I really don't read fanfiction that much... .)
This is a combination of my and what I presume would be draco's thoughts on these events.
I did this in his perspective, and tried to outline the fact that he doesn't think it was his fault, and realistically, I doubt he would. Since this is a collection of my thoughts (as well as what I think draco's would be) I did not put any definite events that surpass the 6th book (excluding the fact that the two went into hiding, since this is what I think is most probable… and well.. this had to set SOMEWHERE). I don't know what will happen, and I don't really care to guess…
This is a little disorganized in order of thoughts for two reasons: a) I doubt that someone who's been locked up in a small room would really have such coherent and linked thoughts, and b) well.. mine aren't anyway, and I doubt I'll change it, since this is just like, a 20 min thing…
Well, I would guess this is something that would occur regularly with someone cooped up in a room for so long o.0
This is a little far from what I originally intended this to be.. I don't even remember what that is anymore… but I'm still pretty satisfied with it )
For those who didn't really understand it, the italics parts that draco was so objective to was his subconscious thoughts….
Yes..
Well, reviews and criticisms are appreciated )