She wasn't much to look at, especially at the start. And she was a mud-blood. Every time I saw her, Mother's words floated through my mind.
You are a Malfoy. A proud Pureblood. We are from a higher breed. Our Ancestry sets us apart from the Common-blooded, especially the mud-bloods.
So I don't know why I started noticing her. Maybe it was the fact that she knew everything, I mean everything, and was first in our class that first year, and every year after. Or maybe its because she started spending time with Potter. I don't know. But every time I saw her, I got angry. I mean, how could a filthy little mud-blood beat me out in every exam? I am a Malfoy, a Pure-blood of the highest breeding, my bloodline goes back as far as Wizards can recall. And yet, there she is every time, smarter than me, more successful than me, and even friends with Potter. And she's a mud-blood.
I think it must've been third year where everything started to change. I was teasing them. I don't even know what I said, but then I was on the floor, and there she was. Her face was clouded with anger and some pain. And something changed. I don't know what, but it did. Suddenly, I couldn't be there, with her looking at me so furiously, so hatefully. So I left. I kept teasing them when I could. But it almost didn't feel the same. It almost felt like I was reminding myself to hate them, to hate her. Suddenly, I was really empty.
Fourth year, at the World Cup, I saw them. The Death Eaters. I know why they were there. I hid in the forest to wait them out. Then I saw them. Potter and Weasel. I don't know why, but I told them to find the Mud-blood. And after they left, I sat down to think about why I'd done it. I didn't care what happened to them. Didn't I? But I told them she was in the most danger. And I wanted them to find her. I wondered why. And through it all, my parent's words.
You are a Malfoy. Honor our name. Honor who we are.
Maybe I didn't understand what a Malfoy was.
It's so easy to hate Potter and Weasel. Potter and his almighty goodness and Weasel because he's an impotent disgusting eyesore that the Wizarding World would be without. It's so easy to hate them. But it's harder to hate Granger. I don't understand why. She's a Mud-blood I should hate her the most, especially because she snatches the number one spot every year. Why is she a Gryffindor? She's far too smart to be one of those idiots. She doesn't belong there. And realizing that I'm thinking about Granger just makes me more angry. Why do I even think about her? Why is she in my head? It makes me want to torture them more. And so when stupid Potter gets sucked into the Tri-Wizard tournament, how can I resist? I have to take every shot I can. Especially now that the whole school is on my side. If only Granger didn't defend him so vehemently.
The Dark Lord has returned. Father and Mother told me. It's so strange. I've never seen my Father so scared. Father never gets scared. Angry and frustrated, yes. But frightened? Never. But there he is, with Mother whispering, tense constantly checking around us. He says that they're going to break the others from Azkaban. I've never seen him so scared. I'm not sure, the Dark Lord being back is a good thing.
They haven't changed. The three of them huddled together, so superior, so utterly self-important. Even now that the whole of the Wizarding World hates Harry Potter and Dumbledore, they haven't changed at all. They keep their heads high. They conspire. And they constantly send glares and triumphant smiles my way. Even though, I'm the head of the I.S. Even though, I know. Even though, I'm a Malfoy. They are still so superior. It's never been so easy to hate them. But at the same time, I almost wish I could be there. They haven't seen him like I have. Seen what he does, how he breaks people. Mother keeps me away for most of it. But I have heard, and I've seen the left overs. I almost wish I could choose their side, because Father is afraid, and so is Mother. But we've chosen. And so I hate them, all three of them.
I'm numb. I don't know how many months have passed. Three? It has to be. We've definitely passed christmas vacation. But everyday feels like one elongated stretched out eternity. I had to do it. It made me crawl. It filled me utter dispair, but I had to.
You're a Malfoy. A wizard of the highest breeding.
It didn't matter that it made me sick. That I wanted to get caught and die. Death would be a sweet release from what I'm caught in now. Now I understand. I know why Father is so scared. I get it. You can't escape him. He is a void, a darkness that settles over everything. You don't get away. You die. But you die last. So he can look into your eyes as your family dies, as you suffer, as you beg for it. I get it now. And now I'm shaking. Dumbledore knows. He has to. Every time he looks at me. I see it. He's sad. I wish he would just accuse me. Catch me. Kill me. I don't want to be trapped anymore. But I can't. I can't risk my parents. I can't. I won't live without them. So I do it. I scheme and I plan. And it works. Suddenly, he's there. He's old and he's weak. And he's sorry. He's sorry for me. My hands are shaking so much I can't keep my wand steady. I almost want to fold. If anyone can protect us it's him. But then its too late. They're here. ANd I can't do it. I must, but I can't. Theres bile rising in my throat and my eyes are stinging. My throat is constricting, and I can't do it. Then, there's a green light. And it's all over. Snape's dragging me away. And the last thing I see is green orbs, full of rage, hate, and infinite sadness. Then we're gone.
I hate myself. They caught them. Of course they would. There are too many on "our" side now, for them to escape for long. But they brought them here. And now I hate myself. I can't help it. I can't help them. I squeeze my hands so tight the nails bite into my skin, my eyes closed as thought that will block out the screams. I want to vanish. I want to stop it. I want to save her. But I can't. I'm a Malfoy. I'm trapped. I've got nowhere to go. No one can save me. No one wants to. I'm a Malfoy. I open my eyes once, just once, and she's looking at me. I leave. I can't be there. I'm not sure I am a Malfoy after all.
They save me. I gave up. I didn't need to die to see hell. I've been in it for at least three years now. The fires only heightened what I already know. I gave up. But they save me. They came back. They leave. They have to fight. I'm no hero. I'm a Malfoy. I need to get back to my Family. I see her look back at me. There's pity and sadness there. But nothing else. We have no more hate to give each other. They've left. He's going to fight and she's going to die. And I'm going rot in hell. The hell I've not left for three years.
It's the first time I've seen them in a long time. My son is going to Hogwarts now. He's gentle and shy. He doesn't want to leave his Mother and I. He's a Malfoy. I see them. They see me. Potter nods at me. Not tersely, just a stoic greeting. More than I deserve, more than I would ask. I can barely manage to return it. My son looks up at me, I can see the fear and the excitement. I kneel down to look him in the eyes.
"Scorpius, you're a Malfoy." I nearly whisper it.
His eyes light up and he's smiling as he answers me.
"And a Malfoy never forgets his debts."
I try to hide the tremor that wracks me as my son speaks. And hug him close. He's a Malfoy. I look over to see the the Potters and Weasleys parting from their children. There's a small spark of hope as I let Scorpius go. He's got a better chance than I ever had. Maybe he'll figure out how to fix the problems I helped make. Malfoys never forget out debts. He's a Malfoy.