Okay, so i know i promised myself i wouldn't, but i guess i lied. oh well...
it's just a little one-shot Draco pov, after all...
Disclaimer: I own nothing... well, nothing of any value, at any rate...
Sometimes, Draco wondered whether he should just start calling himself Draco the house elf. Maybe Dobby could give him some pointers on unquestioning obedience.
Then again, maybe Dobby wasn't the best person to ask. After all, he was free of the Malfoy's now. No need to try dragging him back into blind devotion to the Malfoy name.
It's not like he'd want to help Draco anyway.
At times Draco really wished he too were a house elf. But he wasn't. Nothing as simple as a sock would free him from the chains holding him to his father.
And perfect Harry Potter wouldn't spare him the effort either.
Sometimes Draco wonders when it was that people stopped seeing him. Or maybe the truth was that they'd never really seen him at all.
Which is just depressing in and of itself.
Sometimes he seems to itch all over to do something drastic to make them see him. To show them that he doesn't want to be the pureblooded malfoy heir. Anything really as long as it made them see him again.
His fingers itch to take a knife and cut into his skin to show them all that he bleeds too. He wonders if they'd even care.
Maybe he could show them the scars and bruises that litter his body and his mind. Show them that really houses don't matter. He's still just a scared child needing someone, anyone to understand him.
But they don't so he won't either.
Instead he keeps it all inside. He plays the part of the Malfoy heir. He pretends that everything his father says is right.
He goes home every summer knowing that he'll be punished because he'll never be Harry Potter.
And he comes back every autumn with long sleeves pulled down so that the scars don't show.