OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH HHHHHHH MMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYY GGGGGGGOOOOOOOOOOOOODDDDDDDD DDDD.
51reviews, oh, my GOD!
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Sorry, I just passed out from happiness onto the keyboard again, Whoopsie.
Do you realise how unbelievably happy I am right now? DO YOU?
Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine reaching over 50 reviews for a story, you are the best readers ever.
I'm dancing right now… inside my head of course, I have the laptop on my knees, but in my head, I'm doing the Charleston! In my head, I've just fallen over… in my head people are laughing, laughing and pointing… oh, wait! *face-palm* that wasn't a daydream, that was a flashback, duh!
Anyhoo, thank you all so much for the reviews, they make me so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so so happy.
So today I'm writing about another hopelessly misunderstood character, Draco. (I throw my wand up in the air some times saying ay-oh, my name is Dra-co!) Draco chapters have been requested, so here you go! Prompts, as always, prompts, pretty please? This prompt is from Namna dono, thank you, by the way!
Anyway, now that I've gotten that out of my system, it's time for the chapter!
Character: Draco
Genre: angst
Prompt; Becoming a man.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, but neither do you! Unless, of course, you're JK Rowling, in which case I would be hyperventilating with honour and stuff…. If you ARE JK Rowling, please make your presence known!
Enjoy, read, review, um, do whatever it is you do on a regular day, um… yeah…
Nobody understands what it was like for me after the Battle of Hogwarts. Nobody. It's been seven years and still no one understands.
Think about it. I was a Death Eater, on the side of the Dark Lord, and not all that subtle about it. In some egotistical desire to be better than precious Potter, I became the anti-Potter.
Then he saved my life, and that was just plain annoying. Because how can you hate the person who saved your life? You can't. You have to worship them and thank them and
But still, no one understands. It's like I'm in some sort of limbo. Everyone was convinced I was on the side of the Dark Lord, so was I. Then Potter saved my life, and I had to rethink things. Would any Death Eater do that? Probably not. Would a Death Eater even care? Once again, probably not.
So now I'm not exactly sure what to do with myself. I haven't spoken to Potter, I haven't thanked Potter, I've basically ignored Potter.
I don't think he minds that much. I mean, we've never exactly seen eye-to-eye, now have we?
I'm stuck in some sort of ethical, moral dilemma.
I'm being… childish. That's the word, childish. Immature, sulking like I just got told off by a Professor. Out of pride or ego or something I'm refusing to talk to Potter. I wish I could say that I hadn't needed saving that day in the Room of Requirement, that would make confronting him easier. I could scream at him, tell him I never need saving from precious Potter, the Boy who Lived, that I needed his help like a hole in the head, that I was about to perform some magic that he could only dream about. The problem is, just before Potter and his friends saved us, I was saying goodbye to the world. I wasn't seeing my life flash before my eyes, I was seeing every single bad thing I'd ever done. Enough to make me wish the Fiend Fire would just swallow me whole already. It was too much to ask for, for my death to be quick and painless, it was most likely going to be very slow and excruciatingly painful. No more than I deserved. But I survived. Ugh, why does that disappoint me? I shouldn't be disappointed that I'm alive, should I?
I've always been a spoiled little rich kid whose "father will hear about this". A scared, sheltered little boy who always had something to fall back onto, someone to blame. And, boy, did I blame a lot of people for all the stupid stuff I did. It's a wonder I had any friends at all… Actually, did I have friends? (Brilliant, that git Potter is making me doubt everything in my life) No, I had followers, people who wanted power and weren't smart enough to get it themselves, people who wanted a leader who they could follow. I was that leader, but were they my friends? I wonder if Potter saved my life just to annoy me.
Astoria doesn't understand, either. She pretends to, of course, she isn't one to admit defeat easily. She's determined to love me. I'm not sure if she really does, but whether she does or she doesn't we're married.
She informed me, one day, that we'd been together long enough for me to propose. Romantic. Astoria wasn't repulsed by the Dark Mark on my arm, she liked a little danger in her life, which I was able to supply. And my parents approved, she was a pure blood, after all. I hope my marriage doesn't turn out like theirs, I knew for a fact they were miserable from the age of seven.
I'm going off the point. Potter. Why is it everything in my life, in one way or the other, revolves around him?
I should say thank you.
I should say I'm sorry.
I should swallow my pride, and be a man.
I should.
That doesn't mean I will.
Because saving my life is the one thing I can't forgive him for.