So many years...
Ugh.
What a wasted life. My father would be flipping in his grave.
I've failed the Master, and missed out on so many things...
Look at me.
I'm shrunken.
I used to be so well built, a nice frame.. But now... I'm just...
Here.
Not fully, mind you. You don't exactly stay sane after staying so long in a place as wretched as Azkaban. I would have rather stayed home with Narcissa P.M.S-ing the rest of our lives instead of... there.
I'm so pale... paler than usual. Such bad feeding terms they have there... and such terrible food. I wouldn't be surprised if half of it was poisoned.
EW.
What a pronounced ribcage.. I can count the ribs on either side. Disgusting... I need meat on my bones...
Draco must be disgusted with me.
My son, my only son. My mistake, my dragon..
He must be so angry.
I left him healthy, I came back.. not fully 'here', nor 'there', and.. just.. disgusting looking.
Sickeningly skinny.. I can't bear to look at myself. It hurts, in more ways than one.
Some girl is supposed to come.. interview.. I don't remember.
Gods, look at my face. My once beautiful face.. it's so.. just.. not me.
My cheekbones are so pronounced now. More so than usual.. my lips are still thin, but a paler pink. Those bags beneath my eyes, why will they not leave me? I've gotten as much sleep as I possibly can, and yet they still plague my skin like a permanent blemish.
Even my eyes look dead.
They used to have a spark behind them, everyone saw it. They were.. they told who I was. What I was inside. What I felt.. now they're nothing.
Just.. dull. Lifeless.
My collarbones are protruding from my skin.. shoulders are thinner..
I need to cover them. I need to get more clothing on, I have to hide this hideous body.
Yes.. black slacks, that will do. Black slacks, black shoes, white dress shirt. Satin. I have to obtain some of my dignity, don't I?
I've forgotten what it feels to dress so luxuriously..
One button after the next, come on now, must rush, that girl will be here any minute..
There. Shirt must be tucked in, cuffs are buttoned, collar is down and neat, boots..don't need to be tied.
These pointed boots are the most comfortable thing I own.
Probably one of the only things I own.
The Ministry left our home in shambles. It took Narcissa, Draco, and the whole staff about a week to fix it again.
Brilliant me, I had that idiot boy bring all our dark things to Borgin and Burkes. He'd forgotten a few.. little things, but they didn't cause too much trouble.
Fudge didn't know how to use them, nor what they were.. and the new Minister.. Puh.
May as well put that Longbottom child's parents up for office.. they'd be better than him.
I need that cloak, where is that robe?
There, in the chiffarobe.. yes, this one.
Must dry my hair.. that drying spell-oh yes.
Alright, there we go..now the clasp- yes, right there..
Things are so.. untidy now..
Hair is tied back, robes on, dressed properly.. I must look at least semi-decent.. why would they interview me for such a cause?
Now, look at the mirror one more time..
Oh, it hurts.
It pains me to see such a horrid thing.. Narcissa must.. hate me.
For destroying the looks she married me for.
Sometimes I actually feel /bad/ for her.. but.. other times, I don't. I married her for the same reasons she married me.
One; it was forced.
Two; For her looks. She was gorgeous, she had money.. she was as well known as my family at the time.
We were ment to be together, really, but I digress.
Actually.. come to think of it, she shouldn't be in pain. She doesn't have to live this wreck, support this lifeless body and drag it hither and thither, does she?
No. She does not.
I do.
Therefore, I am in pain.
My name is Lucius Malfoy.
I was released from the wizarding prison, Azkaban, exactly a week prior to this very moment.
Ten years of rotting in a jail cell.
I've ruined my life.
Welcome to my home.
My family has resided in the Malfoy Manor for generations. So many generations, in fact, that it would possibly take four hours to list the number of "Great"'s in front of the word "Grandfather' if I were to tell you who created, founded, and was the first Malfoy.
My father, Abraxas Xavier Malfoy III, had shown me the portraits of every single one of them as I was a child.
Took a full twenty four, grueling, boring hours. I did not need to know who the first Malfoy was, I did not care. My mind was revolved around myself. Outsmarting my father, becomming greater than him, I had to. No matter what.
Must bypass him in all ways possible. Get a more beautiful, intelligent, well known wife than my mother had been. I had succeeded.
Bypass him in Death Eater rank. I had succeeded as well.
Stay secretly a death eater, keep out of harms way, and keep my family relativly unharmed until the day I died?
I had failed.
As a child, I had always been taught to come out on top.
Be the best. Number one. No acceptions, no highway option. I couldn't weasel out and get an 'E' on final exams.
It was either an 'O', or nothing. Anything below that, and the consequences were severe. I had a very strict upbringing, strict parents, strict rules, strict guidlines to life.
I had always told myself, 'I will not raise my children like this, and nor will they raise their own in such a fashion', but, here I am.
Draco's curfew was still twelve o'clock. Twenty years old, still living and mooching off of his parents. As long as he lived under /my/ roof, he would abide by my rules.
Draco was not to talk back (although he did, frequently.), make snide remarks (he also did.) or rude comments to either of his parents. Needless to say, most of said comments and remarks are directed towards myself, as I seem to be the object of his loathing now a days.
He also was to be awake by seven o'clock sharp every morning. That, he abided by. Draco was always the early riser.
I myself could use a few extra hours of sleep, but I have things to do during the day. Can't sleep through it.
Enough with my senseless ramblings.
I've taken too much time to reflect on the useless, simple things..
There.
That filthy mudblooded child is knocking on /my/ door.
My expensive oak door.
I do realise, that once I open said door, I'll be unleashing hell..
On myself, of course.
Well.. don't beat around the bush, Lucius..
Time to welcome a filthy halfbreed into your home..
Limping down the steps, remembering to hide such limp after the Granger child was upon the threshold of my abode, I opened the door slowly, as not to pain my already tense muscles.
Then, I said the words that would force me to wash my mouth out with soap later on.
"Welcome to the Malfoy Manor, Miss Granger."
