when your a child, you know how parents always tell you that when someone picks on you it's because they like you? Well it's hard to explain, but it's true, well at least it is in my case. Sure I have tormented my fair share of people in my life, but from the day I met him, he has been the center of my attention. He has and forever will be, my down fall.
From the moment I saw his scar, the second his eyes met mine, and from the first word that escaped his lips, he has been my obsession. He has been the victim of my cruel words, he is fallen Beneath my lies and been crushed by my family's legacy.
He is everything I was raised to despise, he's harry potter, enemy of the dark lord.
I'm a Malfoy, I'm supposed to hate him! he's bloody Harry Potter, the boy who lived, leading member of the golden trio, teacher of Dumbledore's army, secret weapon of the order.
But does it matter anymore? The wars over, Voldemort is dead and my father is sitting in Azkaban where he belongs!
I am not a monster, I never wanted to be this person, but it's who I had to be. My father, I want to blame him for all this pain that is sitting within me, all these conflicting feelings that have rose within my heart. He turned
Me into this person, and now that I can finally be who I want too, it's to late, I blew my chance at being close with him years ago.
Sitting on the train alone, my eyes only focus is the passing world behind the thin glass, while all my mind can concentrate on is the raven haired hero.
When had it all become complicated? When did this life fall apart? I just don't know anymore. I don't know who I am, why this happened to me, and I don't even know exactly what it is I want.
Sitting in my locked Room on the train I couldn't help remembering when i had hexed Harry. I could feel his presence. I wish I could say that when hexed him, it was because of the orders the dark lord had given me, but, I was just so angry, I was angry at him for whom he was and I was angry at myself for caring.
Maybe I am a monster. What if, this horrible person is truly who I am and I'm living in a world of denial? What if, I'm my father. My father the coward, the traitor, the abuser and follower. I thought back to the times in my childhood when he would lash out, scream at and hex my mother. Could that be me? I hexed Harry out of anger, how much different is it really?
But he hexed me. He'd almost killed me, Harry potter had almost killed me. Only to save me from the climbing flames that final night. Harry, my savior, my enemy, what is it? Could I call him something, did I even have the right.
My hand reached to my chest, feeling the scars from below the thin fabric of my robes. No matter where I went, I would always have this memory of him, this reminder that to him, I was nothing more then Draco Malfoy, the pathetic beast he will always be above. After all, we were always different, we were always enemy's, from the moment he refused to take my friendship.
So childish, yet so real, we were no longer living the lives of soldiers, but we were still on separate sides of that war. And that's the way it was meant to be, even if it slowly eats away at my rapidly beating heart, we will always oppose one another.
A light knock turned my head to the glass door. Only to see a dark haired pansy looking straight at me with confusion being the only expression on her face. "Draco? Why are you all alone?" I just stared at her as she uttered words that did not matter to me. Her hand reached for the door knob, her pale hand attempting to turn it as she struggled to open the door. Her gaze bared into me, "Draco, open the door!" her voice was distant and irritating as she commanded me to do something I had no intention of doing. she was apart of my old life, the one where I was expected to be with her, to lead the Slytherin's!
I stood from my seat and took the few steps towards the door. Standing in front of the glass I looked down on her, just watching her, letting the memory's of her that haunted me, just fall away.
"Draco! Let me in!" she said angrily as she pulled at the door, yanking at the handle as if it was magically going to become unlocked beneath he grasp. She muttered a charm under he breath, as if I was stupid enough to lock a door like a Muggle. My charms were much stronger then hers.
I silently shook my head at her, telling her, that no, I would not open the door.
Her face turned flushed with anger, "Whatever Draco!" she grumbled as she rolled her eyes ad walked off down the hallway.
My arm reached above my head for the blind, but as I was about to pull the blind down I met eyes with the brains of the golden trio, the woman I spent years trying to out do. She looked at me with a curiosity that mixed with her unmistakable judgments of me. But behind her eyes I saw the pity I had always feared hidden behind a cloud of confusion. Her face brought so many memories to myself, moments I made mistakes and words that made me seem like such a cowardly, selfish foul. Her features only reminded me who I was. "There's nothing to see here Granger!" my voice was cold and I felt the chill myself as my breath lightly fogged the glass. She didn't move as I pulled the blind down. Hiding like the scared little boy I am.
Sitting in the great hall I stared up at where Dumbledore once stood, where he should be standing now, but he's not, he's dead, and I was supposed to be the one who killed him. Professor Mcgonagall, is now, headmaster. Though she is obviously not without pain at taking this promotion, it was clear on her face, how she missed him.
The first years have no idea what happened last year, they walk with glee and nervous steps unaware of the blood spilled on this very floor. Sure they had been told but knowing, is almost nothing. You could feel the sorrow in the room, as everyone felt the memories become clear. Looking over at the table across from me I saw the pain on Weasley's face as he grasped Grangers hand very obviously beneath the table . But Harry, he slumped in his seat staring down as if the weight of every corpse was pulling him down, clawing him, suffocating him. He lifted his head feeling my gaze, his face was stone as he stared back at me, no sign of anger, of sadness or of hatred. He looked at me without expression, possibly burying what he felt was a weakness, trying to hide it from me, the cruel classmate he despised. I watched him turn away, suddenly self conches of the place I sat, the table that held me as a home.
I knew people were talking to me, but I couldn't hear them, I saw through their faces and stared down at their green robes. Green, were slytherins, we are not good people, we are slimy snakes. No one can trust us, not even ourselves.
"I would like to welcome all of you to Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry, whether you are new here, or old." Mcgonagall spoke as the final first year was placed into his house. For moment i looked at them all, meeting their house's members, I felt slightly sick at the memory of my first year. "It is a new year for this school, a safer, however sadder year. For those of you who have been with us these past few years, I would like to offer my words of thanks to you, to those of you who were brave, who were strong and for anyone of you who helped protect these walls last year. And to those of you new here, I know this school will be bring you all into a brand new world, a cleaner world and I hope you all enjoy what has been given to you. I know all of you will be great whether you be a wizard or witch." Mcgonagall looked down for a moment before she could continue. " A memorial has been set up just outside of our green house for all those who have gave their lives here in the past few years. I would like to encourage all of you to visit and pay your respects" her voice left my ears but I watched her lips move. trying to find my way back to the great hall, I felt far away as I thought back to that night, the body's, the gilt, and all the fear. I fought to find her words but everything was silent, I didn't hear the applause, or the cheers as the feast appeared before us all. I heard nothing but the beating of my hearts.
But I felt their eyes on me. when I looked I saw them, Weasley stuffing his face as Granger and Harry stared at me, both obviously having noticed something off about me. That or they were planning in jumping and possibly killing me. Perhaps I would even let them, I owed them that much. No, I owed Harry that much.
I wanted to think of him as potter, I always had, but I never could. It was just something that I would say. We weren't on a first name basis, I'm still Malfoy to him, and I always will be, just like secretly, he will always be Harry to me.
