Dumbledore smiled as Snape relayed the strange conversation he had with
Draco Malfoy.
'By that smile on your face, Albus, I know you are keeping me in the dark on some developments in the young Malfoy's life.
'He just needs a friend, Severus. And maybe a bit of guidance. I have great hopes that he may soon search for a new father figure. Be there for him.' Dumbledore gazed at Snape with his twinkling eyes that were distant but always aware.
~
"I'm serious about betraying my father." Draco thought to himself. He had wandered through the rest of his day in a daze. His mind was in turmoil. He was supposed to love, respect, and obey his father. Wasn't he a Malfoy? Shouldn't he want to join the Dark Lord?
Finally night fell on the castle and Draco, finding the dorm to be too cheery for his mood, snuck away to a quiet room that was rarely used, but perfect for Draco's disposition. The room was one of Hogwart's music rooms with a well-used piano pushed up against the far wall. It was completely insolated since many of the students that used it really needed the practice. Draco was not one of these students. His father had always felt that his protégé should be well accomplished and on top of his dark arts' lessons Draco had also learned music, ballroom dancing, fencing, and proper society behaviours.
After locking the door, Draco slipped out of his shoes and arranged them before padding over to the piano. He liked it best when he could play without his shoes on. In fact, Draco hated shoes. He had always been a very tactile child and found his shoes oppressing. He sent a dirty look their way as he realized that he had not been able to walk about without them for over a month. He wished he could have wandered about the Slytherin common room barefoot so he could feel the cold stone and plush carpet under his toes.
Draco collected his thoughts when he realized how far he had let them wander.
"Wool-gathering again are you stupid?"
With his back straight and his hands perfectly poised above the ivory and ebony keys, Draco launched himself into the music and his mental journey.
Something was always wrong when it came to his parents. Draco knew that they didn't treat him like other parents treated their kids, but had always chalked it up to it being a Malfoy thing. He didn't cry any more. Crying was something that he had outgrown by the age of four. He didn't scream any more. Screaming was something he had out grown by the age of six. He didn't try to beg anymore. Begging was something he had out grown by the age of ten. Now he rarely ever flinched, his mask was perfect. He had learned well. He still thought though. He often wondered. Many why questions that other kids incessantly prattle off had run through Draco's mind, but always remained silent, not even daring now to show in his eyes. He often thought he knew why. He was imperfect and always needed to be reminded of what he should be. Then other times when his father would show him off or praise him Draco wouldn't know what to think. At first he tried harder to please, but now the insults and pain came indiscriminately and Draco would usually just submit.
"Why bother when nothing I do is right?"
Draco lowered his head and rested against the piano. No one was there to scold him and even if some one was there Draco didn't care. He just wanted to lie down and let the world take out its worst on him so it could just be over. Even if he jumped, it would never be high enough. Hell he could fly to the moon and his father would still be upset because he hadn't followed orders.
If he felt this way then why did he go to Dumbledore?
Draco let the music flow over him for awhile. He didn't always have all the answers; he never did. He was just tired.
"Just make it all go away. Some one just solve this for me. I can't. Nothing in me works right."
Draco woke from his sore position hunched over the piano. He rubbed the giant red mark he had from where his cheek had been pressed into the wood, wiped the sleep from his eyes and the smallest line of dried drool from the side of his mouth. He glanced at his watch, bemusedly wondering how long he had let himself pass out, and found that breakfast had already been served. In fact if he wanted to eat he had better get to the dinning hall now.
Draco burst into the dinning hall just in time to snatch a few pieces of toast and bacon from the nearest table before they were magically cleared. The girl, from whose plate Draco had stolen his food, stared at him with a mixture of shock and anger. Belatedly he realized that he had taken his food not only from the Gryffindor table, but also from the plate of the Granger girl. Draco covered as best he could. No loosing face over this. While staring back at her, he slowly raised a strip of bacon to his mouth, closed his incisors trapping the bacon, with a flick of his wrist savagely tore it apart, and then did an about-face to make his exit. Every eye in the room followed Draco as he left, especially a pair of green ones, which were trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Harry had watch as Draco had practically run into the Dinning Hall. When he had come over to their table, Harry thought that Draco wanted to insult them and was getting prepared for a verbal duel. Then Draco had completely ignored them, instead stealing Hermione's leftovers. Ron, who was beside Harry, had started to rise, but stopped when Draco had done the dramatic bit with his bacon; unsure of how to act in this situation Ron sat back down. Harry noticed that Draco was not wearing his school uniform and that he had a big red mark on the side of his face.
'Hermy, what was that about? Did you see the side of his face?'
Hermione shrugged back. 'Haven't a clue. If I'd've known he was going to take my food I would have spit on it. He probably just slept in and felt like making a little scene about it. Hope he gets mudblood cooties!'
Draco was in a foul mood to say the least. He was sore and embarrassed. He had also decided that he was going to be horrifically late for Transfiguration. The world had just tried to make a fool out of him and lower the Malfoy name before the entire school. Draco had to try to make up for that. He was going to take a long shower and make himself as perfect in image as he could before facing the school again.
"It was my fault I was late for breakfast, not the world's. I fell asleep in the piano room. I was the one who didn't notice that I was stealing food from the Gryffindor table. It was all me being stupid as usual."
Draco thought all of this, trying to convince some small part of himself that he still had control, but the rational part of him knew that he had never really had control. It was all an illusion. He had tried so hard to believe that he was the keeper of his own destiny, but what was destiny if not a pre-made place for him in the scheme of things.
His musings returned once more to yesterday's events with a sour and bitter question of why he was bothering. If life wanted a Death Eater of this Malfoy then why try to fight the inevitable?
___________________________________________________
How was it? C&Cs always welcomed. Should I delve deeper into Draco's subconscious?
'By that smile on your face, Albus, I know you are keeping me in the dark on some developments in the young Malfoy's life.
'He just needs a friend, Severus. And maybe a bit of guidance. I have great hopes that he may soon search for a new father figure. Be there for him.' Dumbledore gazed at Snape with his twinkling eyes that were distant but always aware.
~
"I'm serious about betraying my father." Draco thought to himself. He had wandered through the rest of his day in a daze. His mind was in turmoil. He was supposed to love, respect, and obey his father. Wasn't he a Malfoy? Shouldn't he want to join the Dark Lord?
Finally night fell on the castle and Draco, finding the dorm to be too cheery for his mood, snuck away to a quiet room that was rarely used, but perfect for Draco's disposition. The room was one of Hogwart's music rooms with a well-used piano pushed up against the far wall. It was completely insolated since many of the students that used it really needed the practice. Draco was not one of these students. His father had always felt that his protégé should be well accomplished and on top of his dark arts' lessons Draco had also learned music, ballroom dancing, fencing, and proper society behaviours.
After locking the door, Draco slipped out of his shoes and arranged them before padding over to the piano. He liked it best when he could play without his shoes on. In fact, Draco hated shoes. He had always been a very tactile child and found his shoes oppressing. He sent a dirty look their way as he realized that he had not been able to walk about without them for over a month. He wished he could have wandered about the Slytherin common room barefoot so he could feel the cold stone and plush carpet under his toes.
Draco collected his thoughts when he realized how far he had let them wander.
"Wool-gathering again are you stupid?"
With his back straight and his hands perfectly poised above the ivory and ebony keys, Draco launched himself into the music and his mental journey.
Something was always wrong when it came to his parents. Draco knew that they didn't treat him like other parents treated their kids, but had always chalked it up to it being a Malfoy thing. He didn't cry any more. Crying was something that he had outgrown by the age of four. He didn't scream any more. Screaming was something he had out grown by the age of six. He didn't try to beg anymore. Begging was something he had out grown by the age of ten. Now he rarely ever flinched, his mask was perfect. He had learned well. He still thought though. He often wondered. Many why questions that other kids incessantly prattle off had run through Draco's mind, but always remained silent, not even daring now to show in his eyes. He often thought he knew why. He was imperfect and always needed to be reminded of what he should be. Then other times when his father would show him off or praise him Draco wouldn't know what to think. At first he tried harder to please, but now the insults and pain came indiscriminately and Draco would usually just submit.
"Why bother when nothing I do is right?"
Draco lowered his head and rested against the piano. No one was there to scold him and even if some one was there Draco didn't care. He just wanted to lie down and let the world take out its worst on him so it could just be over. Even if he jumped, it would never be high enough. Hell he could fly to the moon and his father would still be upset because he hadn't followed orders.
If he felt this way then why did he go to Dumbledore?
Draco let the music flow over him for awhile. He didn't always have all the answers; he never did. He was just tired.
"Just make it all go away. Some one just solve this for me. I can't. Nothing in me works right."
Draco woke from his sore position hunched over the piano. He rubbed the giant red mark he had from where his cheek had been pressed into the wood, wiped the sleep from his eyes and the smallest line of dried drool from the side of his mouth. He glanced at his watch, bemusedly wondering how long he had let himself pass out, and found that breakfast had already been served. In fact if he wanted to eat he had better get to the dinning hall now.
Draco burst into the dinning hall just in time to snatch a few pieces of toast and bacon from the nearest table before they were magically cleared. The girl, from whose plate Draco had stolen his food, stared at him with a mixture of shock and anger. Belatedly he realized that he had taken his food not only from the Gryffindor table, but also from the plate of the Granger girl. Draco covered as best he could. No loosing face over this. While staring back at her, he slowly raised a strip of bacon to his mouth, closed his incisors trapping the bacon, with a flick of his wrist savagely tore it apart, and then did an about-face to make his exit. Every eye in the room followed Draco as he left, especially a pair of green ones, which were trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Harry had watch as Draco had practically run into the Dinning Hall. When he had come over to their table, Harry thought that Draco wanted to insult them and was getting prepared for a verbal duel. Then Draco had completely ignored them, instead stealing Hermione's leftovers. Ron, who was beside Harry, had started to rise, but stopped when Draco had done the dramatic bit with his bacon; unsure of how to act in this situation Ron sat back down. Harry noticed that Draco was not wearing his school uniform and that he had a big red mark on the side of his face.
'Hermy, what was that about? Did you see the side of his face?'
Hermione shrugged back. 'Haven't a clue. If I'd've known he was going to take my food I would have spit on it. He probably just slept in and felt like making a little scene about it. Hope he gets mudblood cooties!'
Draco was in a foul mood to say the least. He was sore and embarrassed. He had also decided that he was going to be horrifically late for Transfiguration. The world had just tried to make a fool out of him and lower the Malfoy name before the entire school. Draco had to try to make up for that. He was going to take a long shower and make himself as perfect in image as he could before facing the school again.
"It was my fault I was late for breakfast, not the world's. I fell asleep in the piano room. I was the one who didn't notice that I was stealing food from the Gryffindor table. It was all me being stupid as usual."
Draco thought all of this, trying to convince some small part of himself that he still had control, but the rational part of him knew that he had never really had control. It was all an illusion. He had tried so hard to believe that he was the keeper of his own destiny, but what was destiny if not a pre-made place for him in the scheme of things.
His musings returned once more to yesterday's events with a sour and bitter question of why he was bothering. If life wanted a Death Eater of this Malfoy then why try to fight the inevitable?
___________________________________________________
How was it? C&Cs always welcomed. Should I delve deeper into Draco's subconscious?