Hello, My name is Draco Malfoy.
Do you know me? No you wouldn't you're just a book. You don't know me at all. And everyone else is too busy.
I got you, little book, a few days ago from my mother, right before I got on the train, she slipped it to me and told me to write in it. She knows how badly messed up I was after father finished with me. She also knows that, because of who I am, I don't have many friends.
Yes. I have people who hang around me, who act like they give a fat fuck. I have a few people that hang on my every word, like Pansy. There are the ones who say they care. But none of them really do. The only reason they even talk to me at all is because of who my father is. Yes. Lucius Malfoy. Right hand of Voldemort. Death Eater. Not to mention rich, member of one of the oldest pure blooded family's still around...add a few more things to the list and it's plain to see why they suck up to me.
But that's only the Slytherin house. Shall I tell you how the other house's treat me? Ravenclaw's ignore me, for the most part. Hufflepuff's avoid me. Not much more can be expected of them tho. Gryffindor, now they really are a house of gems. So Loyal...but they don't ignore or avoid me. They seek me out. Mostly only the Weasel, Potter and that mudblood. But the others will go out of their way to run into me, or push me. Anything to win the respect of Potter or get me in trouble.
Sometimes I feels sorry for the mudblood and the Weasel. It seems like all they are, are Potter's lackeys. Like Vincent and Greg, to me. But I know that's not true. They are Potter's friends. Loyal, trustworthy. I know that they are like Greg and Vincent, who wouldn't ever hurt me. Not on purpose, anyway. Everyone who knows them thinks that all they are, are bumbling incompetents who went to the Dark Lord the moment they turned 16. Well, I have news for you, little book, they aren't, they didn't and they never will. Neither will I. That's why my mother gave you to me, you see. Because when I went home, I turned 16. And I refused the Mark. I said I wanted nothing to do with what my father was doing. I told him, the night I turned 16 I told him that...It hurts even to write it. What happened, what was said...but I'll write it. I told him that I didn't want to go to Voldemort. He stared at me before asking if I was sure. Because if I was, I would have to take responsibility for my actions. I knew what was coming... but it didn't stop me from crying out in pain. I had felt the earth shattering pain of the Cruciatus Curse before, but never for so long. It went on for maybe an hour. I wonder why I didn't go crazy, like the Longbottom's had when they were tortured under that curse.
Yes. I know about that. My father told me of them. It was, in fact, my fathers favorite bed time story for me. You want to know something I never told anyone? I cried, every night, after hearing that story. The first time I was told, that was when I swore I would never become what my father was. He is ugly. On the inside. On the outside he may be beautiful, hell from what Mother has told me, half the school wanted my father when he was in school.
Which brings me to my next topic. Sex. Or more specifically, sex and me. I'm a virgin. No one would believe it if I told them. Only Vincent and Greg know (Well I think Blaise Zambini knows, he's the closest friend I have outside of Greg and Vincent). Just like I'm the only one who knows they won't take the Dark Mark. We trust each other. Even if we don't trust anyone else. But back to the topic at hand. Not only am I a virgin, I'm gay. Not really a big deal in the wizarding world. I mean, everyone figured out long ago that if no one cared that a merman and a werewolf were shagging, then no one should care if a man and a man were shagging either. So that in itself is not a big deal. The fact that my father only has one son to give him a grandchild to carry on the Malfoy line...that's one problem. The other is who I've fallen for. I'll tell you another secret, book, I care for...the Weasel.
Shameful, I know. But that's something that is part of me, I guess. It doesn't matter. I don't know why I even wrote this. The fact of the matter is, next time I go home I'll get the mark. Or I'll die. Before I go, I will tell the Weasel. I have to. Even if I go knowing that he hates me, at least he'll go knowing I cared.
Maybe I'll go to Dumbledore. Maybe I'll go to Snape. Maybe I'll even go to Potter. Whatever I do...whatever I say...if they turn me away...If they tell me that I have done to much to be allowed salvation...If I'm not good enough for them, then please, little book, please, let someone find you. Let someone find you, so that when they find my body, if they find my body, at least someone will know that I died, fighting. That I died resisting the Mark. Because I promise, for the simple fact that I care for Weasely...Ron, I will not accept the Dark Mark. I will not become what my father is. And I will not kill for a man that would kill for simply being alive.
But I have a full year before I have to go home. A whole school year, seeing as my parents are to busy to let me come home for any of the vacations. So I have a while to save myself.
I think that's it, little book. For now, maybe forever if I don't ever have anything more to write. If I never write again, let someone find you. After I'm gone.....
My name is Darco Malfoy.
I love Ron Weasley.
I hate my Father.
I do not support Voldemort.
I do not have the Dark Mark.
I do not hate mudbloods.
I do not care for or hate Harry Potter.
I will never kill a human.
I have two friends.
I am in the Slytherin house, but I will never be a Dark Wizard.
I am Draco Malfoy, Son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.
And most people don't know me at all.
Draco Malfoy
~owari.....?~
Notes: I think this might be the starting point of a nice long Draco/Ron fic. Anyone agree? This didn't turn out quite like I planned. ^_^;; Well good things are unexpected. Especially at 11:50 at night in the middle of a damned camping trip. ~_~ Question, is Blaise Zambini ever mentioned after the first book?
Do you know me? No you wouldn't you're just a book. You don't know me at all. And everyone else is too busy.
I got you, little book, a few days ago from my mother, right before I got on the train, she slipped it to me and told me to write in it. She knows how badly messed up I was after father finished with me. She also knows that, because of who I am, I don't have many friends.
Yes. I have people who hang around me, who act like they give a fat fuck. I have a few people that hang on my every word, like Pansy. There are the ones who say they care. But none of them really do. The only reason they even talk to me at all is because of who my father is. Yes. Lucius Malfoy. Right hand of Voldemort. Death Eater. Not to mention rich, member of one of the oldest pure blooded family's still around...add a few more things to the list and it's plain to see why they suck up to me.
But that's only the Slytherin house. Shall I tell you how the other house's treat me? Ravenclaw's ignore me, for the most part. Hufflepuff's avoid me. Not much more can be expected of them tho. Gryffindor, now they really are a house of gems. So Loyal...but they don't ignore or avoid me. They seek me out. Mostly only the Weasel, Potter and that mudblood. But the others will go out of their way to run into me, or push me. Anything to win the respect of Potter or get me in trouble.
Sometimes I feels sorry for the mudblood and the Weasel. It seems like all they are, are Potter's lackeys. Like Vincent and Greg, to me. But I know that's not true. They are Potter's friends. Loyal, trustworthy. I know that they are like Greg and Vincent, who wouldn't ever hurt me. Not on purpose, anyway. Everyone who knows them thinks that all they are, are bumbling incompetents who went to the Dark Lord the moment they turned 16. Well, I have news for you, little book, they aren't, they didn't and they never will. Neither will I. That's why my mother gave you to me, you see. Because when I went home, I turned 16. And I refused the Mark. I said I wanted nothing to do with what my father was doing. I told him, the night I turned 16 I told him that...It hurts even to write it. What happened, what was said...but I'll write it. I told him that I didn't want to go to Voldemort. He stared at me before asking if I was sure. Because if I was, I would have to take responsibility for my actions. I knew what was coming... but it didn't stop me from crying out in pain. I had felt the earth shattering pain of the Cruciatus Curse before, but never for so long. It went on for maybe an hour. I wonder why I didn't go crazy, like the Longbottom's had when they were tortured under that curse.
Yes. I know about that. My father told me of them. It was, in fact, my fathers favorite bed time story for me. You want to know something I never told anyone? I cried, every night, after hearing that story. The first time I was told, that was when I swore I would never become what my father was. He is ugly. On the inside. On the outside he may be beautiful, hell from what Mother has told me, half the school wanted my father when he was in school.
Which brings me to my next topic. Sex. Or more specifically, sex and me. I'm a virgin. No one would believe it if I told them. Only Vincent and Greg know (Well I think Blaise Zambini knows, he's the closest friend I have outside of Greg and Vincent). Just like I'm the only one who knows they won't take the Dark Mark. We trust each other. Even if we don't trust anyone else. But back to the topic at hand. Not only am I a virgin, I'm gay. Not really a big deal in the wizarding world. I mean, everyone figured out long ago that if no one cared that a merman and a werewolf were shagging, then no one should care if a man and a man were shagging either. So that in itself is not a big deal. The fact that my father only has one son to give him a grandchild to carry on the Malfoy line...that's one problem. The other is who I've fallen for. I'll tell you another secret, book, I care for...the Weasel.
Shameful, I know. But that's something that is part of me, I guess. It doesn't matter. I don't know why I even wrote this. The fact of the matter is, next time I go home I'll get the mark. Or I'll die. Before I go, I will tell the Weasel. I have to. Even if I go knowing that he hates me, at least he'll go knowing I cared.
Maybe I'll go to Dumbledore. Maybe I'll go to Snape. Maybe I'll even go to Potter. Whatever I do...whatever I say...if they turn me away...If they tell me that I have done to much to be allowed salvation...If I'm not good enough for them, then please, little book, please, let someone find you. Let someone find you, so that when they find my body, if they find my body, at least someone will know that I died, fighting. That I died resisting the Mark. Because I promise, for the simple fact that I care for Weasely...Ron, I will not accept the Dark Mark. I will not become what my father is. And I will not kill for a man that would kill for simply being alive.
But I have a full year before I have to go home. A whole school year, seeing as my parents are to busy to let me come home for any of the vacations. So I have a while to save myself.
I think that's it, little book. For now, maybe forever if I don't ever have anything more to write. If I never write again, let someone find you. After I'm gone.....
My name is Darco Malfoy.
I love Ron Weasley.
I hate my Father.
I do not support Voldemort.
I do not have the Dark Mark.
I do not hate mudbloods.
I do not care for or hate Harry Potter.
I will never kill a human.
I have two friends.
I am in the Slytherin house, but I will never be a Dark Wizard.
I am Draco Malfoy, Son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.
And most people don't know me at all.
Draco Malfoy
~owari.....?~
Notes: I think this might be the starting point of a nice long Draco/Ron fic. Anyone agree? This didn't turn out quite like I planned. ^_^;; Well good things are unexpected. Especially at 11:50 at night in the middle of a damned camping trip. ~_~ Question, is Blaise Zambini ever mentioned after the first book?