Life is as Sweet as a Cinnamon Bun
1. Irrationality
I looked up to the silver crescent of the moon. The wavelets of the black lake lapped my bare feet. So peaceful. The fresh summer night breeze filled my lungs. Last night here, at Hogwarts. Tomorrow all the seventh years would leave, to lead their own lives. At first there would be lots of owling, keeping in touch. But then each would go to his and her own life, meet new people. Live happily.
But I wouldn't. As far as my father was concerned, my future was a nice pre-set track, straight ahead. To become a death eater. Serve Voldemort. Before, that road led to glory, to happiness. But the streetlights dimmed and it was plunged in the dark. Endless. The faint dirt road that led away from it had been swept away.
I didn't hate Father for forming me into this. There were times when I had hated him. But it was useless. The best way was to obey submissively. I respected Father, like I'll respect Voldemort one day. But it would be a respect founded on fear, on submission. I am bad, cruel, cynical, manipulating, ruthless. I am a Malfoy.
But is the little dirt road really swept away? Are you not strong enough to tread it? Is Voldemort you only future?
No. Go away, soft, weak part of me. Leave me forever. Leave my conscience. There is no love. There is no true friendship. Dominant, and dominated. Strong and weak.
There is love! There is friendship! Open your heart! Scrape away the anger, the fear!
Open my heart and die! Open my heart and everyone knows me, laughs at me, taunts me! I let go of all the anger and more comes in! When I try to scream it out people yell back at me, hate me, loathe me! And I hate them too!
With a snarl of frustration, I leapt to my feet. I yelled at my shoes for not getting back onto my feet properly. I yelled at them for not answering. I wanted to yell at the whole world, so that they could yell back at me and I could hate the world in peace.
Frustration! I need to let the anger out. Snide remarks to Potter and his little clique were getting boring. Yes! I can dump Pansy tomorrow. That is so gonna hurt her poor little heart. That bitch. Going around kissing every boy that comes her way. But she'd trusted me. Told me her secrets. Loved me too much. She was going to regret that…
Relishing the look on her ugly pug face, I walked back to the castle.
I gritted my teeth as the black mark was branded on my arm. The pain… But I didn't yell. When it was done, my father looked me and simply said,
"Good."
I walked out to the centre of the group of death eaters, and kneeled down in front of Voldemort.
"My Lord, I swear allegiance to you. I shall remain your faithful servant. I owe you my life."
"Good, good, Malfoy," he hissed, "You are following in your father's footsteps, and maybe you shall accomplish even greater things. You are strong. Can you prove your strength?"
"Whatever you wish master."
"CRUCIO!"
Staggering pain! I wanted to scream and writhe. I stiffened. The pain, the pain. Resist! I shuddered and gasped. NO! NO! DON'T SCREAM! Take in the pain. It was too much!
I let out a stifled cry. The pain stopped.
"You are very strong, Malfoy. You shall not deceive me."
"No, Master."
"Very good. You shall count as those who deserve to serve me the most."
"Thank you, my Lord."
I went to stand in the circle of death eaters.
"Crucio," I said nonchalantly. The Muggle girl screamed and writhed in pain. I stopped. She looked at me, fear in her eyes.
"Draco, why?… What did I do wrong?" Tears in her eyes. Weak. Pathetic.
"You exist." I replied. She staggered up to her feet.
"You… You BASTARD!" She flung herself at me and started kicking, slapping, scratching me. I knocked her off, and she lay on the floor, sobbing. This had been quite a good game. Flirting with stupid, nitwit Muggle girls. Making them love you to bits. Then killing them.
Our eyes met. I looked into these soft, weak eyes. Eyes that were filled with love before. Stupid. Never open your heart up to anyone. Never!
"Avada Kedavra!"
Dead, because she'd never deserved to live. I knelt down, and stared at the look of mixed sadness and horror on her sweet face.
But, in that frightened face, suddenly something was wrong. Deep down in those beautiful hazel eyes, there was a glint, a feeling, that was very wrong.
It was hope.
Hope of what? That I'd spare her? That I wasn't being myself? That I truly did love her? Puh-leaze. But how could there have been hope? She had no hope, and she knew it. From the moment I'd first hit her with the torturing spell, she knew that I had powers, and that I was going to kill her. Irrational.
But there is hope for every single human being, Draco. Even you.
Hope? Why should I have hope? The only thing I was hoping was that Voldemort took over, and cleared up this bloody world a bit.
Malfoy has no hope, because Malfoy isn't human. He's a monster. You have hope. Hope to care, to love, to get away from this life of obedience and misery.
Misery? Hell, I'm having the fun of my life here.
You know you're not. You don't really want to kill. You kill because you've been told to do so. You don't have to always obey. You could be free. Your heart could be free.
Disobey Voldemort? Is this like this suicidal plan or something?
Yes, Malfoy. But Draco lives free.