Notes: I don't own the Harry Potter series. Don't sue me.
This is not written from my pov. I am not Blade Malfoy. Though my screen name and the main character's name are the same, we are not one person.
The delicate mix of
Shadow and Light
Halfway between the Day and the Night
A Star in the heavens, A Blade at my side
A Blood-covered shield 'neath which warriors hide
The Eye of the Cat, the Scale of a Dragon
Some call it Platinum, to others it's Argon
For me it's my soul, the Black and the White
The balance between is a perilous fight…
Once my family was unknown to the world. I was a wanderer, treading lightly among the muggles. I kept my wand close at hand and my allies even closer, and for added safety I learned to become a hawk. Among my wizard companions I was a legend; no one could disappear quite as fast or attack quite as fiercely as I. As well, no one was quite as flippant and witty as I. Though I hate to say it, my dearest friend Godric couldn't even come close. Of course, Salazar thought he was good but… we all knew he was fooling himself. I named myself when I reached the age of thirteen: Blade because of my skill with the sword (I taught Godric everything he knew) and Malfoy because of its meaning. I learned that 'Foy' meant Dragon in one of the dead languages, so I became the Bad Dragon to my close friends. It was merely an inside joke, but had I known what that name would soon symbolize, I would have changed it.
I lived during a time of great and terrible danger for wizards. Muggles were after our blood, and we faced persecution constantly. Godric, Helena, Rowena and I met to discuss this danger, and of course Salazar had to come as well. That ugly git was always poking his nose in where it didn't belong. The five of us were some of the most respected magic-users of our time, and everyone trusted us to find a way to save our dying race. If I may say so, we did a bloody good job of it.
If you've read anything of the Hogwarts histories, you'll know that we thought up the wizarding school. I was the brains behind the changing ceiling and the securities, for I knew much about sneaking. Helena made the place comfortable for students to grow up in, Godric made the place beautiful, and Rowena made it a place conducive to learning. Salazar just made the Chamber. He was always a slacker.
When Hogwarts was nearing its final days of construction, the five of us met in council in the Great Hall to discuss the future of our glorious creation. How would students be chosen? How would we hire teachers? What would the curriculum be? Rowena, of course, came up with the major courses. I suggested Defense against the Dark Arts, for I knew if Salazar had anything to do with the school, our students would need it. Godric, being the wonderful man he was, came up with the five-house system that would give our students families away from home. Helena suggested that seven years at Hogwarts would suffice. Salazar merely brooded.
I knew that man hated me. He hated everything I stood for. Out of the five of us, the five most powerful wizards at the time, four were of pure blood. My father was a muggle. I knew Salazar's absolute hatred of me, but I did not fear it.
Perhaps I should have.
About a week before the school was finished, while we sorted the letters that would be sent to prospective students, I went away for a short while. I was to scout out the terrain, to get a feel of the place, and to see just how dangerous the nearby forest was. Little did I know that I would be followed that day.
I made camp a mile into the forest and began the work of categorizing the beasts of the wood. So far I had met with two centaurs, a hippogriff, and a unicorn. I had also seen many tracks of creatures, and I made a mental note to follow them for a few days. That evening I curled up in my sleeping bag beneath the roots of a fallen tree, perfectly calm and unaware of any danger. I thought I was invincible. Nothing could touch me. Nothing would touch me; I was one of the strongest! Alas… I was only one of them.
That evening Salazar crept upon me unawares. A deadly light was in his eye as he cast a silencing charm on the area, and before I could even wake properly he had pinned me to the earth, his claw-like nails biting into my skin.
"Salazar," I choked, "What are you doing?"
"Silence, mudblood," he spat. I saw the maniacal glow in his eyes, and yet I sill felt no fear. What did he think he could do to me?
"Godric will ki-" I began, but Salazar cut me off by slapping me hard across the face. He had sharpened his nails, I could tell.
"Don't talk about that bastard," Salazar hissed, his face inches from mine. "I don't care what he'll do, all I want is you, dead!"
Then, with fingers trembling in rage, he ran his hand through my hair. This was too much. The filthy fool was touching me! I wriggled from under him, muttering curses, and leaped for the forest. He was too quick for me, though. I felt something heavy strike the backs of my legs, and I fell forward painfully. Something had been sprained, because I couldn't move my legs. With horror I realized that I also couldn't transfigure, and my wand lay three feet beyond my reach.
"You slippery little slime, you can't get away from me," Salazar cackled, flipping me over roughly. The demonic glint in his eye was suddenly replaced by something far more sinister: lust. In that instant I knew what he wanted from me, and for the first time in a long time, I was afraid.
"I've been watching you, watching you all the time," Salazar hissed, stroking my face.
"Get off me, scum," I snarled, snapping my teeth at his face. I nearly got his nose, but he pulled back just in time. His eyes narrowed to slits and he again slapped me across the face, this time much harder, and my eyes watered in pain. Still, I wouldn't give in to pain.
"I've seen you with Godric, little girl," he purred, his eyes full of malevolence. "You know he only wants your power, you're body... That's the only reason he defends you. That foolish naïve idiot… I will kill him too…"
I knew this was not true. Godric was like a brother to me, and I loved him dearly. To hear this brute insulting him and threatening him… I spat into Salazar's face. This was a mistake.
"You're stupid little bitch!" he snarled, digging his claws into my arm. "You stupid naïve little bitch! How often does he fuck you, huh? Is that what it takes to control you??" At this he tore open my robes violently, and I felt the blood drip slowly down my arm. I felt panic rising in my throat, and Salazar sensed it.
"Never been fucked, hmm? All the better… all the better…"
The panic rising in me was enough to override fear, and I wriggled violently beneath him. My arms reached out and caught his face, ripping gashes in his cheek and nose. My knee caught him in the chest. This seemed to be too much for him, and he took out his want and pointed it at me.
"Crucio!" he bellowed. The pain I felt then was enormous. I knew in my agonized consciousness that Salazar had invented this spell, and he had done it to hurt me. Though I had vowed not to cry out, the curse proved too much for me. If the silencing charm hadn't been in place, all of Scotland would have heard me. I felt a blinding, white-hot pain in every cell of my body, and it felt as if I was bleeding from every pore. It seemed like forever that I was under the curse, all the time screaming over Salazar's hatred-filled laughter, but I'm sure it was only a minute or two. Salazar couldn't control his lust forever.
Perhaps the curse did some good, for I was so dizzy and sick after it was over that I barely noticed what Salazar was doing. I did feel sharp stabs of pain inside, and I felt blood where there should have been none. I was helpless to resist him.
Maybe it was my stillness that saved him, because he left without finishing me off. I lay on the ground for hours, maybe even days, for the curse had been a strong one and had sapped my strength. Salazar was on the verge of discovering the killing curse, after all. However long I lay there didn't matter, because I survived. Godric worried about my absence and silence no doubt, came to look for me. When he found me, his rage was so great that I could almost pity Salazar's fate.
"Blade… Blade, what happened?" he cried, kneeling down beside me. "Who did this to you?"
"Salazar," I murmured, my eyes closed. "He wants me dead."
"Salazar," Godric hissed, his eyes narrowed. "I've always known he… gods Blade, are you all right?"
"I'm fine," I replied. "I just hurt everywhere…"
"I'll take you up to the castle." Godric lifted me up as easily as if I were a rag doll, cast a sleeping spell on me, and took me back up to Hogwarts. I knew no more for three days, days in which I was trapped in an endless series of horrible nightmares. I saw the future, the rise of Voldemort and the slaughter of thousands. I watched my kin join him and kill alongside him, as heartless and cold as Salazar. Helena told me I cried out in my sleep, and that every time I did so Godric flinched. He suffered alongside me those terrible days, and when I finally awoke and saw him, he looked awful.
"Are you… feeling better?" He asked, taking my hand in his.
I nodded weakly, then closed my eyes again. "You didn't kill Salazar, did you?" I asked quietly.
"No…. he's gone into hiding. He fears my anger."
"Don't kill him… I don't want blood on your hands because of me."
Godric looked surprised. "But… what he did to you… you nearly died…"
I shook my head. "Don't become a murderer, Godric. Salazar's doom awaits him, but not from you."
Godric nodded slowly, and I knew he would comply to my wishes. He was a good man, and murder didn't suit him. "Do you need anything?" he asked.
"Something that can erase the past," I sighed, smiling lightly. "I'll be all right, Godric. In a few days I'll be back to my normal self."
How very wrong I was in that regard.
Salazar returned two days later, probably knowing that I had told Godric not to kill him. He returned to torment me, I know. Helena came to my room the day after he had returned and told me, and from that moment I knew nothing but fear. I was bedridden for three more weeks, gradually gaining strength. When I finally left my hospital room, I was as physically strong as I had been before Salazar attacked. Mentally, I was as nervous and terrified as a rabbit in the hawk's sights. I stayed close to Godric whenever possible, using him as a shield. No matter what he had promised, if Salazar tried to attack me again, Godric would kill him. As the first day of class drew closer, I grew more and more frightened. Deep in the pit of my stomach, I knew my students were in trouble. Anyone sorted into the Malfoy house would face persecution and danger from Salazar's house. Two days before the start of term, I met with my three friends.
"Tell the sorting hat not to put anyone into the Malfoy House," I told them. They objected fiercely, telling me I was only giving Salazar what he wanted, but the satisfaction of one man was easier to deal with than the deaths of the generations to come. And so when the students arrived, I sat beside my friends as a teacher only.
Though Salazar's constant presence was frightening, I soon faced something much, much more dire.
Maybe the stress had made me forget, or maybe I just didn't want to notice, but it had been nearly two months since my last 'woman's curse'. When I first realized this, I didn't want to think of its meaning and consequences. I told myself, made myself believe, that it was merely late, that it would come any day, that I was being stupid for thinking the things I was thinking. The reality I had created for myself was shattered the morning the sickness came. When that happened, I knew.
Salazar's curse was far more long-lasting than he had known.
I tried to hide it from everyone, but my students all noticed when I arrived late for their morning classes. I told them that I had a bad cold, and that I accidentally slept late. I took their minds off it with fantastic lessons on defense, all spawned by my fear of Salazar. I taught them early on the curses they would face, and then taught them the countercurses. I told them what to watch for in Dark Wizards, how to duel, how to avoid being attacked, and by the end of the first two months of school my students were experts in defense. They were loyal to me, came to me with their problems, and trusted me. I was a mentor for them in troubled and uncertain times, and my position as teacher made me a safe spot. Thus, they were devastated when I left.
When I began to show, when it became obvious no matter what I wore that I was with child, I knew I had to leave. If Salazar saw, who knew what he'd do to me. Maybe it would be an added bonus for him, to see me this way. Besides, I didn't want to have my child in his shadow. I decided that, no matter how much it hurt, I was going to leave without anyone else knowing. It would be better for all that way.
I was thwarted in that respect, however.
As I packed my bags late one evening, trying not to think of what lay ahead, one of my students, Krystal Goyle, came to me. She was a small thing, a half-blood who hadn't thought she was worth anything. She had shown a real spark for my course, though, and was one of the best in my class. Most surprising to me was that she was from Salazar's house. This didn't seem to matter much to her; I was still her favorite teacher.
"Professor Malfoy?" She said quietly as she opened the door of my study. I had told the students they could come to me at any time, day or night, with problems, so she was perfectly correct in ambushing me like this.
"Yes?" I said, straightening up and trying to hide my surprise. I really wasn't in the mood for after-school help, especially on the evening of my getaway.
"I know you're leaving, and I know why," she muttered, hanging her head. "I don't want you to go."
This was too much for me. I already hurt from having to leave, but to have one of my students come to me and personally ask for me not to leave… "I have to, Krystal. I can't explain to you, but…"
"What will we do without a Defense against the Dark Arts teacher?" Krystal wailed.
I knelt down beside her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You all know more than you think you do," I said consolingly. "There will be a new teacher, and I'm sure they'll be just as good as me."
"B-b-but what if Salazar has you killed?" she cried. "We don't want you to die!"
This child knew more than was good for her. She was walking a very dangerous edge, and one wrong word would push her off of it. "Krystal, you're talking about things you don't understand," I said gently. "You're in grave danger if you speak about this to everyone. Please, please, just pretend you don't know why I left… Someday I'll come back, but I've got to hide for a while now."
Krystal seemed to sense the truth in my words and nodded mutely. I gently guided her out the door, my heart breaking. I didn't want to leave here, because Hogwarts was where my spirit was.
I left that evening without any more tears left to cry.
EpilogueBlade Malfoy never did return to Hogwarts. She had her baby, a little boy she named Christopher, at an out-of-the-way muggle hospital. For five years she hid with her son, always fearing Salazar, always longing to return to Hogwarts and Godric. Her post as the DADA teacher was filled by a less competent professor, and he didn't last long. It seemed Blade's leave had placed a curse on the job, because no one ever stayed on as a DADA professor for more than a few years. Salazar slowly grew stronger, more arrogant, and Godric's wrath grew each day. On the eve of Christopher's sixth birthday Salazar attacked Godric, and a fierce duel ensued. Though Salazar was slain in the fight, Godric suffered a fatal wound and died a few days later. When Blade learned of this, she too began a slow yet steady decline in health. Christopher was only eight years old when his mother died.
Alone, afraid, and helpless, Christopher was found by Hogwarts alumnus Krysal and raised in the castle. Though the care there was loving, the trauma of Christopher's early life made him cold and distrustful of the world. Thus began the family line that would rise in power and prestige, and yet never lose its haunting beginnings. The Malfoys will always be in the shadow of Slytherin.