His True Colors

Just a short little story I wrote about Draco Malfoy in the middle of his sixth year. I really love Draco Malfoy and believe he got a bad reputation. This is just sort of how I feel he truly is, as we never really get much of 'his' side of the story.

People define Slytherin as an ugly word. This is only because bad names are associated with it. It is only mostly true. There never were many a witch or wizard that went bad that weren't in Slytherin. Villains are ambitious, and I suppose that's why they always ended up here. I don't believe all Slytherins are evil. There are many unlikable qualities about many that reside in Hogwarts. After all, Albus Dumbledore was a great man, but even he played favorites. Harry Potter had a temper. Everyone makes mistakes. No one is perfect.

Sometimes, I think I was meant to end up somewhere else. Slytherin never suited me, but everyone was very nice. When I first became sorted into the Slytherin house, I sat next to a girl named Pansy Parkinson. She was very sweet, as were the men. In fact, everyone was real nice to me, and there was no reason for it. My mother was a muggle and my father attended Hogwarts as a Hufflepuff. He does not work for the ministry. I had never met any of these people before, yet I had never felt more welcome in my house.

As for the rest of the school…the snake on my robes indicated deception. I was isolated from the rest of the school and my only acquaintances resided inside the Slytherin house. They were the only people that treated me like I was normal. Don't be mistaken, it was still every man for himself…but everyone seemed to know that. Each Slytherin had their own purpose for being there, but no one was there to judge. We were all natural born leaders.

No one was a follower. That's why there were no groups of friends. We weren't even friends, really. Just simply strangers that knew each other very well. None of them meant that too terribly much to me. Meaning I would attend their funeral, but that would be the end of our confrontation. I'd think about them time to time…and then the tears would past. They'd just fade away.

There was only one exception.

It's amazing how little your first encounter with someone can matter. Not knowing what will end up happening or even caring. They're a simple stranger and, then, one day, you realize something. You may love them.

The first day I met Draco Malfoy was uneventful in every way. I'd seen him before, but never actually gotten a chance to talk to him. There were a lot of Slytherins and out of the majority of them, I was one of the shy ones. There weren't many I went out of my way to converse with. Not that I was better than them, only I was terrified.

Pansy was one of the girls I conversed with fairly often. She was a year older than me but seemed to enjoy the silence I provoked, as Pansy did love to talk. Contrary to what most people think, Pansy barely spoke of Draco. She thought highly of him and eventually those thoughts turned to love. They were very good friends. It was unrequited love. The worst of its kind.

We walked into the common room where Draco had been sitting with Crabbe and Goyle, two men I had also not met. Pansy saw Draco and smiled, sitting next to him on the loveseat. I took my seat next to Crabbe and Goyle.

Have you ever been in a room where everyone knows each other except you? It's quite awkward, and I was contemplating any excuse I could to leave the room and escape into my bed. Pansy noticed.

"This is Mina Lawson," she introduced.

Draco only nodded. "Draco Malfoy."

"I know who you are," I replied, avoiding his eye contact.

It was really nothing special, nor were any of the events that transpired after that.

At first, he remained an acquaintance. One of those people that was simply still a stranger to me. We would talk like normal people, nothing of importance. I can't wait until Christmas break. What exams do you have? What class do you have next? It was all very small talk. Most of my talk was small.

"You don't talk a lot, do you?" he asked one day. I only half smiled.

"I never have much to talk about."

"'suppose."

Draco Malfoy wasn't much of a talker, either. It's one of the things I liked most about him. He was a man of few words. Everything you need to know about Draco Malfoy comes from his face…nothing more. Even when he cries, he doesn't reveal much. It's heartbreaking.

I believe I knew more about him than most people did. Pansy's thoughts of love turned to lust and Crabbe and Goyle were hardly trustworthy people. There weren't many one could talk to in those days. People didn't want to listen.

Over the years, I observed the behavior of Draco Malfoy. The way he acted alone versus the way he did in a group of people. Versus the Gryffindors. Versus teachers. His parents. There were a million different sides to him. There's only way to know when you're truly with Draco Malfoy. One can be sitting next to Draco talking about anything and not truly be with him. The times when Draco Malfoy is truly himself…is when he's crying.

I walked in on him one time, accidentally. It was a time I wanted to be alone. There was never a place you could be more alone in than Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Truthfully, I didn't expect anyone to be there, let alone a boy. Let alone Draco Malfoy.

The real Draco Malfoy.

He stood with his hands on the edges of the sink, his face stained with tears. When he saw me, his face almost broke. His pride was shattered but, even then, he couldn't stop. The tears remained on his face. He didn't try to wipe them off or hide anything. For the first time in five years, I feel like I met him.

I didn't say a word. Not for a while, at least. That would've stung in a way that would cut deeper than knives. I walked up next to him and leaned my head on his shoulder, then, slowly, buried my face into his chest and wrapped my arms around him. He tightened his grip and squeezed me tight, burying his face into my shoulder, crying still. We stayed like that for a while. I wasn't going to speak unless he was.

He did.

With his head still buried in my shoulder, he asked me a question. "Would you kill someone…to save a life?"

I was silent for a long time.

"What's happened to you, Draco?" I pulled away from his grip, staring him in the eyes. He avoided my gaze. It didn't matter. He didn't answer. I didn't really expect him to. "You don't have to…" I wasn't sure what to say.

He solved that problem for me. Looking me in the eyes, he kissed me so softly; it almost felt like a butterfly was on my lips, dancing around. It was heaven on earth…but it felt wrong.

"No," I said. He froze. "We can't…it…you're sad. I couldn't possibly…" He kissed me again. I fell into it. Giving into temptation. The drug. But no. "Draco." He ceased again, closing me in for a final hug.

"I know."

There was something that caught my eye, and before he could protest, my hands slid down to his arm and lifted the shirt up ever so slightly. A black snake crawling out of a skull's mouth. The Dark Mark. I was speechless, and as I looked up at him for an explanation, I received nothing.

"He's making you do this, isn't he?" I asked, slightly hysteric. "You can't…you just…Draco, you're too good to-" he kissed me again. I broke it off. "Why?"

In his eyes was a tortured smile. "No one in my life has ever called me good."

Tears ran down my eyes at this point. "But you are good, Draco.

"No, I'm not," he confessed. "I'm scum."

I knew not what to say. From everything I knew about Draco Malfoy, I never thought him to be scum. Sure, he could be a little cruel sometimes, but there were reasons for that. There were always reasons. If a cat was raised to hate a mouse, wouldn't the hatred linger? Up until the very moment where the cat is about to eat the rodent, wouldn't the hatred remain until common sense kicked in? I can't do this…this is wrong.

"Pansy is worried about you," I told him. He rolled his eyes, slightly. I put my hands on his chest and sighed. "She means well."

"She doesn't love me."

"How can you even say that?"

"She loves me because of my family. Because I brutally beat down anyone that comes within a hundred foot radius of me! Because I cheat at Quidditch and try to kill people!" He was in tears again. "If she saw…me…she wouldn't love me."

"I love you…"

Draco looked at me through his tears. By this time, I was crying, too. He seemed to be taken by surprise. As if this would never have happened. Should never have happened. I didn't care.

"I don't understand everything," I told him. "I don't know what's happening. What he's telling you to do. Why you're doing it. You're a noble man, Draco Malfoy. The necklace…I know it was you." Draco froze. "I don't know who you're trying to kill…Harry Potter, perhaps. I need you to listen to me, okay? Please…killing this person will not bring you peace. Whoever Voldemort has told you to kill…he will make your life miserable either way."

"I know…" Draco admitted.

"You don't want to do this, do you?"

"I hate it."

"I don't want you to die…"

Draco buried his hands in his eyes. "I don't know what to do."

"I think you've already decided…whatever happens, Draco…you are a good man. Do not forget that."

Draco only laughed. "Come on, Mina, no, I'm not."

"Yes, you are!" I nearly snapped. "I would never have fallen in love with you otherwise."

His head lifted up ever so slightly as he looked me straight in the eyes. I lifted myself up onto my toes and kissed his lips, ever so gently. He kissed back and for a moment, the whole world disappeared. It was a beautiful haze. It was the greatest kiss of my life.

My mother heard about what happened at the school. When I went home for Christmas…I never returned. I never heard from Draco or anyone else. Every so often, I would hear what had happened the following semester. I heard about the incident with Dumbledore. I heard about Draco. I heard about Snape.

I knew he was a good man.