Long ago, when I thought I was perfect, before Potter had ruined my name,
before I had a broom, before I had a sister. I would sit on my bed,
perfectly still, listening to the arguments downstairs between my father
and mother. I knew from that point on I would not fight with my wife,
never, at least not over petty things like what school my child would be
going to. My mother was a horrible woman, I thought her worse than my
father, at least he did something worth looking up to. I knew my wife
would never be like that, I would not allow it. But little did I know that
I would be much like my mother, scarily enough, I would grow to hate myself
because of it, and I thought no one could help.
---
It was a dim morning and I woke up in my dorm room to find that all my fellow classmates had gone. Of course they dare not disturb me, especially when I was sleeping on the canopy above my bed, in fact, I doubt anyone knew I was even there. The green canopy rarely moved and it made me feel as if I were floating. One might ask how a mere canopy could support a boy of 15, but then again, one might take one look at me and understand. I was not malnourished, but I was skinny and pale, no freckles ruining my perfectly flawless face. I only weighed around 105 lbs and I was, and still am, almost certain that my canopy was not merely fabric. There must've been an anti-ripping spell placed upon it. Nonetheless it supported me, as no one else could.
Beside me lay a bottle of wine. Grape wine. Wine, if one did not know, is a muggle beverage (a bit like butter beer, but much stronger). I would drink a bottle a week. It comforted me as no one ever had. It was my support group. I think muggles call these types of beverages alcohol. So I was an alcoholic, if that means to be addicted. Alcoholic, I remember thinking, how quaint, and I had laughed at my cleverness. I wondered what muggles called an addiction over anything, or did they even have addictions, perhaps they were only addictions to wizards. Still the question wanders through me like a useless blood cell.
I had sat up and jumped off in a few minutes and had wandered out of the dorm into the common room before I had realized I was still in my jim jams. I changed with a word whispered to my wand and had then wandered to the library. La Bibliotheque as I had liked to call it. Library is such a boring name. Bibliotheque adds a small amount of excitement and I needed all the excitement that I could get. I had gotten into the library and quickly jogged to a far corner that offered more privacy and such factors. There were some books on my normal table and I glanced scarlet hair and then the books disappeared.
"Weasley, did you tell Potter that you are borrowing his cloak?" I announced. The shuffling of papers and such materials halted. A slender hand appeared and pulled the invisibility cloak off. My eyes widened, astonished at the person who's face had just appeared. I had expected Ron, but standing before me was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister. She snorted at the look upon my face and replied,
"Actually it's mine, but don't tell Ron, he'd have a cow about who gave it to me." She smiled deviously and then her face hardened. "Why aren't you in class, Malfoy?" The sudden coldness startled me, although I knew it did not show on my face.
"Hangover." I said blandly. "Malfoy has just uttered Muggle words, what will happen next? Stay tuned." Ginny said in what sounded like her best commentator voice.
"For you're information, hangover is not a muggle word. My father says that it's a wizarding word that was stolen from our world when we were almost discovered in 1973." I said, smiling my sickeningly fake sweet smile at her. She made a face but stood silent, rocking on her heels.
I smirked and then asked a question that had lingered in my head since she'd mentioned it, "Who gave the cloak to you?"
Ginny smirked, "Wouldn't you like to know." I glared, and then finally she said, "Blaise." I felt my eyebrows raise and a look of shock cross my face, Surely I must've heard wrong, I thought. "Zabini? Blaise Zabini?" She nodded, "You must be joking, why would he.but.oh.I get it. I knew he liked you." I finished, now understanding.
"Showing that not all Slytherins are bad." Ginny laughed.
"Oh I wouldn't be to sure. he could have." I paused, surprised at my lack of words, "ulterior motives." I announced, getting my sarcasm factor back.
Ginny rolled her eyes,"Yes, and you could fall in love with me." Going a little pink around her ears, she averted her eyes and was now looking at a book to the side.
I put on my best horrified face and whispered,"That's not fair, those are two different things."
"And so are you and Blaze." Ginny nodded and a triumphant glint was caught in her eyes. We stood there in silence trying to stare each other down but after two minutes it got old. She raised and eyebrow and smirked, "I must get back, Ron will be wondering where I've been."
She got out of the row and I sat down where she had been sitting. I heard the doors to the library creak open and then Ginny's voice said, "Bye, Malfoy." And the doors creaked shut.
---
It was a dim morning and I woke up in my dorm room to find that all my fellow classmates had gone. Of course they dare not disturb me, especially when I was sleeping on the canopy above my bed, in fact, I doubt anyone knew I was even there. The green canopy rarely moved and it made me feel as if I were floating. One might ask how a mere canopy could support a boy of 15, but then again, one might take one look at me and understand. I was not malnourished, but I was skinny and pale, no freckles ruining my perfectly flawless face. I only weighed around 105 lbs and I was, and still am, almost certain that my canopy was not merely fabric. There must've been an anti-ripping spell placed upon it. Nonetheless it supported me, as no one else could.
Beside me lay a bottle of wine. Grape wine. Wine, if one did not know, is a muggle beverage (a bit like butter beer, but much stronger). I would drink a bottle a week. It comforted me as no one ever had. It was my support group. I think muggles call these types of beverages alcohol. So I was an alcoholic, if that means to be addicted. Alcoholic, I remember thinking, how quaint, and I had laughed at my cleverness. I wondered what muggles called an addiction over anything, or did they even have addictions, perhaps they were only addictions to wizards. Still the question wanders through me like a useless blood cell.
I had sat up and jumped off in a few minutes and had wandered out of the dorm into the common room before I had realized I was still in my jim jams. I changed with a word whispered to my wand and had then wandered to the library. La Bibliotheque as I had liked to call it. Library is such a boring name. Bibliotheque adds a small amount of excitement and I needed all the excitement that I could get. I had gotten into the library and quickly jogged to a far corner that offered more privacy and such factors. There were some books on my normal table and I glanced scarlet hair and then the books disappeared.
"Weasley, did you tell Potter that you are borrowing his cloak?" I announced. The shuffling of papers and such materials halted. A slender hand appeared and pulled the invisibility cloak off. My eyes widened, astonished at the person who's face had just appeared. I had expected Ron, but standing before me was Ginny Weasley, Ron's younger sister. She snorted at the look upon my face and replied,
"Actually it's mine, but don't tell Ron, he'd have a cow about who gave it to me." She smiled deviously and then her face hardened. "Why aren't you in class, Malfoy?" The sudden coldness startled me, although I knew it did not show on my face.
"Hangover." I said blandly. "Malfoy has just uttered Muggle words, what will happen next? Stay tuned." Ginny said in what sounded like her best commentator voice.
"For you're information, hangover is not a muggle word. My father says that it's a wizarding word that was stolen from our world when we were almost discovered in 1973." I said, smiling my sickeningly fake sweet smile at her. She made a face but stood silent, rocking on her heels.
I smirked and then asked a question that had lingered in my head since she'd mentioned it, "Who gave the cloak to you?"
Ginny smirked, "Wouldn't you like to know." I glared, and then finally she said, "Blaise." I felt my eyebrows raise and a look of shock cross my face, Surely I must've heard wrong, I thought. "Zabini? Blaise Zabini?" She nodded, "You must be joking, why would he.but.oh.I get it. I knew he liked you." I finished, now understanding.
"Showing that not all Slytherins are bad." Ginny laughed.
"Oh I wouldn't be to sure. he could have." I paused, surprised at my lack of words, "ulterior motives." I announced, getting my sarcasm factor back.
Ginny rolled her eyes,"Yes, and you could fall in love with me." Going a little pink around her ears, she averted her eyes and was now looking at a book to the side.
I put on my best horrified face and whispered,"That's not fair, those are two different things."
"And so are you and Blaze." Ginny nodded and a triumphant glint was caught in her eyes. We stood there in silence trying to stare each other down but after two minutes it got old. She raised and eyebrow and smirked, "I must get back, Ron will be wondering where I've been."
She got out of the row and I sat down where she had been sitting. I heard the doors to the library creak open and then Ginny's voice said, "Bye, Malfoy." And the doors creaked shut.