Chapter 2-
Curiosity
Surrey, England.
House elf cleaning the fire place. I kick it away as I land.
"Grubby is sorry, Master!"
"Grubby is in my fuckin' way." Kick it again.
"Draco! Language!" Dad.
Translation: "Bad little Dragon! Don't act like a Muggle!"
Fuck you too, Dad.
"Supper will be ready in half an hour." Mum.
Hmm. I wonder. Mum and Dad were in their year.
"Was Sirius Black gay?"
"Hated him. Don't care." Dad.
"I'm fairly sure. If he was, he only liked one guy. But he was pretty popular. Lots of girls had crushes on him." Mum.
"Hush woman." Dad.
Happy Family, huh?
"How about Remus Lupin?"
"Oh, wow. I liked him a lot. He was really nice, and pretty cute too, another school pick." Mum.
"Hush woman. So was I."
"Yes, so were you." Not happy Mum.
"But yes, Draco, he was. The school whore, really. Did almost everyone. Not his close friends. Not some others."
Not you? Or did he? Don't ask.
"Everyone thought he liked Black, really." Mum.
"Hush woman."
Happy family.
"But- School whore? Don't werewolves mate for life?"
"So do humans. But just like humans, they screw around a bit and settle down, some cheat a bit, some don't. It varies."
Ah.
Hmm. Maybe I should ask Professor Lupin himself. Yes. I could meet him at the Three Broomsticks, asking for essay help, which I do need.
Two birds, one stone.
I'll send the letter off. Right now. I run to my study. Grab a quill. Paper. Ink. Draw a Slytherin "S" to mess with poor Gryffindor Lupin. Maybe not. Toss it. Start over. A moon and a wolf howling at it.
Yeah. He's used to me drawing on my papers- I draw every time I write something down, I have to do a little sketch somewhere with it- that and the hand writing will prove it's me.
Dear Professor Lupin-
Um, hi, it's Draco Malfoy. I was in your third year Slytherin- Hufflepuff class {I'm in Slytherin}. Um.You're the only DADA teacher who's still alive/ remembers his name/ not paranoid, so I was wondering if you could help me with an essay. Send back a time we can meet at the Three Broomsticks. Thanks!
-Draco Malfoy.
Draw a little dragon under my name. Done.
Send it on Owl. That's it's name. Actually, it's full name is "That damned owl", but Dad hates my vulgarity.
"Muggles are vulgar. Wizards are refined."
I say "Fuck off."
Happy family.
Dinner time. Good.
"Here, Master." Damned elf. I hate house elves. They always baby me. I don't need them.
"Did you just send an owl off to one of your little friends?" Dad.
Translation: "What orders did you send to which of your pathetic underlings?"
Lie? Truth? Truth.
"No. It was to a teacher for homework help."
"What subject?" Mum.
Dad would be pissed if I answered truthfully with DADA. Lie.
"Arithmancy."
"Oh." Mum looks disappointed. "I was good at that."
"Hush woman." Happy family.
Dad talked about work again. Droll. Mum stayed quiet. She does that.
The elf took my finished soup and salad and put down the main course. Some sort of chicken pasta. I try some. Pretty good. I order the elves to bring me something else, anyway. I still eat it.
They've caught on. Must have prepared it while they prepared the pasta. Broiled steaks. Looks good. Smells better. Hmm. But I want to piss them off.
"I've already eaten." Hand them empty pasta dish.
"Draco! Eat all your food!" Dad.
Trans: "That cost money, stupid boy! Eat all of you food!"
Happy family.
No choice but to eat the steaks, too. Oh, damn. It's excellent. But I still offended the elves by denying it, so it's ok. No. Bug 'em more.
"Tastes like shit."
"Don't be vulgar." Dad.
Trans: "Don't act like a Muggle."
"Fuck off."
"Go to your room."
"Which one?" Damned good steak.
"Let him finish his dinner." Mum.
"Then he goes to his room."
"Fine."
"Yeah, fine, Dad." Mm. I wish I still had my pasta. Feel like flinging some at an elf.
Pick up a roll and butter it. Throw that instead.
"Draco!"
Trans: "Spoiled little prat! A disgrace to our race! Leave my sight!"
"'Kay, fine." Grab another roll and leave.
Which is where I wanted to go.
Happy family.
I fall on my bed. Boring. Father's been worse as of late.
He's always hated me.
It's always been mutual.
Still. It's like he's waiting for something.
He's a Death Eater. I'm fairly sure he's the first. He would sacrifice me to his master in a heartbeat.
Except I'm better. Faster. He can't kill me.
Still, he goes to his meetings, eager. Hopeful, even.
Always unsatisfied when he returns.
What's he anticipating, anyway?
I'm bored. Huh. A ball. Toss, catch. Could do it with magic, but sometimes it feels better to use my own hands and eyes. To watch and feel it. To occasionally miss.
Toss. Catch.
It's easier to think like this too.
Like about how Dad never talks about his school days. How Mum rarely talks. Huh. Toss, catch.
Why? It seems no one wants to live those seven years again.
Toss catch. Why? What happened?
There's away to know, I suppose. But it's rough.
Sneaky.
Unprecedented.
Dad would punish me if he catches me.
He can't.
I'll do it. I finger the invisibility cloak I bought one day while Dad was selling some of his Dark Arts stuff three years ago.
When they're asleep.
Curiosity
Surrey, England.
House elf cleaning the fire place. I kick it away as I land.
"Grubby is sorry, Master!"
"Grubby is in my fuckin' way." Kick it again.
"Draco! Language!" Dad.
Translation: "Bad little Dragon! Don't act like a Muggle!"
Fuck you too, Dad.
"Supper will be ready in half an hour." Mum.
Hmm. I wonder. Mum and Dad were in their year.
"Was Sirius Black gay?"
"Hated him. Don't care." Dad.
"I'm fairly sure. If he was, he only liked one guy. But he was pretty popular. Lots of girls had crushes on him." Mum.
"Hush woman." Dad.
Happy Family, huh?
"How about Remus Lupin?"
"Oh, wow. I liked him a lot. He was really nice, and pretty cute too, another school pick." Mum.
"Hush woman. So was I."
"Yes, so were you." Not happy Mum.
"But yes, Draco, he was. The school whore, really. Did almost everyone. Not his close friends. Not some others."
Not you? Or did he? Don't ask.
"Everyone thought he liked Black, really." Mum.
"Hush woman."
Happy family.
"But- School whore? Don't werewolves mate for life?"
"So do humans. But just like humans, they screw around a bit and settle down, some cheat a bit, some don't. It varies."
Ah.
Hmm. Maybe I should ask Professor Lupin himself. Yes. I could meet him at the Three Broomsticks, asking for essay help, which I do need.
Two birds, one stone.
I'll send the letter off. Right now. I run to my study. Grab a quill. Paper. Ink. Draw a Slytherin "S" to mess with poor Gryffindor Lupin. Maybe not. Toss it. Start over. A moon and a wolf howling at it.
Yeah. He's used to me drawing on my papers- I draw every time I write something down, I have to do a little sketch somewhere with it- that and the hand writing will prove it's me.
Dear Professor Lupin-
Um, hi, it's Draco Malfoy. I was in your third year Slytherin- Hufflepuff class {I'm in Slytherin}. Um.You're the only DADA teacher who's still alive/ remembers his name/ not paranoid, so I was wondering if you could help me with an essay. Send back a time we can meet at the Three Broomsticks. Thanks!
-Draco Malfoy.
Draw a little dragon under my name. Done.
Send it on Owl. That's it's name. Actually, it's full name is "That damned owl", but Dad hates my vulgarity.
"Muggles are vulgar. Wizards are refined."
I say "Fuck off."
Happy family.
Dinner time. Good.
"Here, Master." Damned elf. I hate house elves. They always baby me. I don't need them.
"Did you just send an owl off to one of your little friends?" Dad.
Translation: "What orders did you send to which of your pathetic underlings?"
Lie? Truth? Truth.
"No. It was to a teacher for homework help."
"What subject?" Mum.
Dad would be pissed if I answered truthfully with DADA. Lie.
"Arithmancy."
"Oh." Mum looks disappointed. "I was good at that."
"Hush woman." Happy family.
Dad talked about work again. Droll. Mum stayed quiet. She does that.
The elf took my finished soup and salad and put down the main course. Some sort of chicken pasta. I try some. Pretty good. I order the elves to bring me something else, anyway. I still eat it.
They've caught on. Must have prepared it while they prepared the pasta. Broiled steaks. Looks good. Smells better. Hmm. But I want to piss them off.
"I've already eaten." Hand them empty pasta dish.
"Draco! Eat all your food!" Dad.
Trans: "That cost money, stupid boy! Eat all of you food!"
Happy family.
No choice but to eat the steaks, too. Oh, damn. It's excellent. But I still offended the elves by denying it, so it's ok. No. Bug 'em more.
"Tastes like shit."
"Don't be vulgar." Dad.
Trans: "Don't act like a Muggle."
"Fuck off."
"Go to your room."
"Which one?" Damned good steak.
"Let him finish his dinner." Mum.
"Then he goes to his room."
"Fine."
"Yeah, fine, Dad." Mm. I wish I still had my pasta. Feel like flinging some at an elf.
Pick up a roll and butter it. Throw that instead.
"Draco!"
Trans: "Spoiled little prat! A disgrace to our race! Leave my sight!"
"'Kay, fine." Grab another roll and leave.
Which is where I wanted to go.
Happy family.
I fall on my bed. Boring. Father's been worse as of late.
He's always hated me.
It's always been mutual.
Still. It's like he's waiting for something.
He's a Death Eater. I'm fairly sure he's the first. He would sacrifice me to his master in a heartbeat.
Except I'm better. Faster. He can't kill me.
Still, he goes to his meetings, eager. Hopeful, even.
Always unsatisfied when he returns.
What's he anticipating, anyway?
I'm bored. Huh. A ball. Toss, catch. Could do it with magic, but sometimes it feels better to use my own hands and eyes. To watch and feel it. To occasionally miss.
Toss. Catch.
It's easier to think like this too.
Like about how Dad never talks about his school days. How Mum rarely talks. Huh. Toss, catch.
Why? It seems no one wants to live those seven years again.
Toss catch. Why? What happened?
There's away to know, I suppose. But it's rough.
Sneaky.
Unprecedented.
Dad would punish me if he catches me.
He can't.
I'll do it. I finger the invisibility cloak I bought one day while Dad was selling some of his Dark Arts stuff three years ago.
When they're asleep.