THE STARS ARE PROJECTORS
Disclaimer: This story is inspired, of course, by the Harry Potter series and the wonderful character of Draco Malfoy that came from it, as well as the music of Modest Mouse. The characters here belong to J. K. Rowling and the titles to Modest Mouse. I own them not.
Chapter One: Wild Packs of Family Dogs
I'm sitting outside by my mudlake, waiting for the pack to take me away.
Once every other year, on a date that had remained unchanged for years, a family reunion of sorts was held at the stately Malfoy Manor in Cheshire, England.
Perhaps, though, it wasn't really appropriate to call it a "family reunion." The Malfoys were by no means loving to those in their bloodline, despite their pride in being part of it, and the Malfoys were rarely sentimental, so this occasion was not often joyous, compared to other family reunions. In fact, it was more often uncomfortable, with the distinct feeling of constant stiffness. Every man wore robes of incredible expensiveness, and every woman came with great amounts of priceless jewelry, while every child (though there were few) acted on strangely proper behavior. From afar, the event might seem spectacular, with mixes of dark blues, greens, and gold with the flashing of precious jewels. From within the walls of the mansion, though, the air was stuffy and awkward to breathe, and upon close examination, one may notice that all of the faces were drawn into tight frowns and scowls, as though the beauty was actually not up to standards. Nonetheless, on July fifteenth, a blonde teenaged boy named Draco Malfoy stood poised and ready to greet his family members as they Apparated one by one in the entrance hall.
"Good evening, young Draco," said Anguis Malfoy. Draco nodded politely as the image of his uncle appeared suddenly to his left, followed immediately by his aunt.
"You look especially dashing tonight, Draco," she said with a strange smirk.
"Thank you, Aunt Potentia," Draco replied, choking back some sarcasm. "You look lovely yourself."
Anguis and Potentia nodded as though Draco somehow satisfied them, and began to walk away. All of Draco's family members, he noted, moved with a beautiful grace that allowed even not-so-attractive people like Anguis and Potentia Malfoy to be a mildly breathtaking sight.
It was not to Draco to ever question tradition. Draco was indeed aware of the great honor in being of the Malfoy name, and enjoyed all that came with that honor. Draco had even inherited the infamously snobby ways of his family, added with some of his own innate sarcasm. Still, Draco couldn't help but think that this little get-together was no more than a way for his family members to show off their enormous wealth to each other every two years. Draco was a little ashamed of this thought, and allowed his Malfoy pride to quickly shove it out of his mind. Even if that was true, he thought, no one would ever be able to touch the wealth of Lucius Malfoy, his father. Draco considered his father, who was standing quietly with his wife and nodding stiffly to his guests, with a slight grin.
Draco felt lucky, mostly, to have Lucius as a father. When Lucius married Narcissa, Draco's mother, the Malfoy name had already provided them with enough money to last them and a family for the rest of their lives. Lucius was greedy in all respects, though, and on the constant look-out for things to make his wealth grow even more. Malfoys were often indifferent to current events, but Lucius heard that the powerful wizard Voldemort paid his loyal followers well, and so he readily joined. Lucius, like all Malfoys, was also indifferent to the pain and suffering of others, which made him perfect for the job. This is how Lucius Malfoy became a very active Death Eater and a ridiculously rich man while beginning a tradition that Draco was expected to follow.
Tradition.
The word echoed painfully in Draco's mind, but failed to stir any thought. Draco attached no emotion to the word.
Draco honored his father as he knew he should, as tradition told him he should, and yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, Draco knew his father was a terrible, greedy pig. Actually, in the back of his mind, Draco quietly hated all of his relatives. He just refused to listen to that voice there that said so.
The voice seemed even harder to ignore as he watched his grandmother hold up her hand adorned with an enormous diamond ring for one of his aunts to study with blatantly fake admiration.
"Draco." The very voice of Lucius Malfoy cut through Draco's thoughts, or lack thereof.
"Yes, Father?"
"I believe your great aunt and uncle are waiting for your greeting."
Draco was quite startled to see an elderly and overdressed witch and wizard standing on his right and frowning down upon him.
"Hello, Aunt Castanea. Good evening, Uncle Arborel," said Draco calmly. His eyes burned from the urge to roll with annoyance.
His great aunt and uncle huffed in reply and turned away quickly. Apparently years of Malfoy parties were finally getting to Arborel and Castanea. Or perhaps years of being Malfoys had made Arborel and Castanea even more insufferable than two years before.
Draco could still feel the eyes of his father on him and fought back the need to squirm appropriately.
"Everyone has arrived, Draco," Lucius said, his voice slow and even. "You may join your relatives."
Draco met his father's eyes reluctantly.
"Actually, Father, could I be excused for a moment?"
There was a slight raise to Lucius' eyebrows, as though the question was really quite inappropriate.
"I suppose. But do not take too long; your relatives are impatient."
Draco knew his relatives could actually care less. Teenaged boys rarely showed jealously for designer robes and diamonds.
Draco felt both relieved and awkward as he turned away from his father's gaze and walked quickly down the long hallway. He wasn't sure what he excused himself for, so he felt himself soon wandering through the maze of hallways aimlessly. He watched his feet and the carpet fly underneath them, but soon his pace slackened and he lifted his head. The hallways were lavishly decorated, and priceless works of art were framed and hanging on the walls. Draco barely acknowledged the paintings. Years of watching his mother purchase them and hang them thoughtlessly on the walls had made him indifferent to nearly any kind of art. Draco slid his hands causally into his pockets and lowered his head back to the carpet and his slowly moving feet.
When Draco finally looked up again, he found himself just outside the library. He entered with the slightest shrug of his shoulders.
Draco was actually the only person who ever utilized the library, and it was where he ended up spending most of his time. Literature was one art form that Draco was definitely not indifferent to, and he read passionately. The library itself was incredibly large and bursting with books. Although Draco read a lot, he knew that not in a million lifetimes would he be able to even touch all of the books that library contained.
Draco strolled in slowly, taking in the familiar walls and shelves. Actually, every bit of wall not occupied by a bookshelf was covered in old framed portraits of dead Malfoys who peered suspiciously at him and studied the covers of the books he read as though he was always getting into something he wasn't supposed to. Thinking he had had enough of being surveyed by his family members, Draco avoided their eyes and took a seat on a nearby sofa right next to Nita, who was bathing herself quietly.
Magical animals were often bred for high prices in the wizarding community. They were thought to be much smarter than "average" animals and held a few magical abilities of their own, much to the entertainment of those who owned them. When Draco was a small child, Lucius had bought a magically bred cat for his son, who Draco affectionately named Nita. Lucius bought Nita for Draco out his duty as a father, unaware of joy the cat would actually bring his son. Nita had never shown any obvious evidence of possessing magical powers or unusual amounts of intelligence, but Draco loved his cat nonetheless. Lucius had taught Draco that loving, caring, or showing affection for anything or anybody was both disgraceful and unnecessary, and so Draco was forced to care about his cat in a very secretive manor.
"How's is going, Nita?"
The cat acknowledged the blonde boy by momentarily lifting her head from her own fur.
Draco watched Nita with a sad smile and sighed.
He sat in silence for several minutes, petting Nita absent-mindedly. It was after these few minutes that Draco faced the pictures of his relatives, who looking at him as if he was doing something very wrong. Draco began to feel the tiniest bit guilty.
Draco felt as if his family was always haunting him.
And yet, he didn't really get too tired of it.
He was rich, handsome, and probably envied by wizards all over the world.
As Draco watched the faces of his late family members, he suddenly felt very ashamed for abandoning his living ones. Standing up gracefully, he puffed himself up with his Malfoy pride and left the library with a quick pace.
It was Draco's duty as a Malfoy to be proud, and he quite aware of this fact.
------------
I'd appreciate some comments!
Disclaimer: This story is inspired, of course, by the Harry Potter series and the wonderful character of Draco Malfoy that came from it, as well as the music of Modest Mouse. The characters here belong to J. K. Rowling and the titles to Modest Mouse. I own them not.
Chapter One: Wild Packs of Family Dogs
I'm sitting outside by my mudlake, waiting for the pack to take me away.
Once every other year, on a date that had remained unchanged for years, a family reunion of sorts was held at the stately Malfoy Manor in Cheshire, England.
Perhaps, though, it wasn't really appropriate to call it a "family reunion." The Malfoys were by no means loving to those in their bloodline, despite their pride in being part of it, and the Malfoys were rarely sentimental, so this occasion was not often joyous, compared to other family reunions. In fact, it was more often uncomfortable, with the distinct feeling of constant stiffness. Every man wore robes of incredible expensiveness, and every woman came with great amounts of priceless jewelry, while every child (though there were few) acted on strangely proper behavior. From afar, the event might seem spectacular, with mixes of dark blues, greens, and gold with the flashing of precious jewels. From within the walls of the mansion, though, the air was stuffy and awkward to breathe, and upon close examination, one may notice that all of the faces were drawn into tight frowns and scowls, as though the beauty was actually not up to standards. Nonetheless, on July fifteenth, a blonde teenaged boy named Draco Malfoy stood poised and ready to greet his family members as they Apparated one by one in the entrance hall.
"Good evening, young Draco," said Anguis Malfoy. Draco nodded politely as the image of his uncle appeared suddenly to his left, followed immediately by his aunt.
"You look especially dashing tonight, Draco," she said with a strange smirk.
"Thank you, Aunt Potentia," Draco replied, choking back some sarcasm. "You look lovely yourself."
Anguis and Potentia nodded as though Draco somehow satisfied them, and began to walk away. All of Draco's family members, he noted, moved with a beautiful grace that allowed even not-so-attractive people like Anguis and Potentia Malfoy to be a mildly breathtaking sight.
It was not to Draco to ever question tradition. Draco was indeed aware of the great honor in being of the Malfoy name, and enjoyed all that came with that honor. Draco had even inherited the infamously snobby ways of his family, added with some of his own innate sarcasm. Still, Draco couldn't help but think that this little get-together was no more than a way for his family members to show off their enormous wealth to each other every two years. Draco was a little ashamed of this thought, and allowed his Malfoy pride to quickly shove it out of his mind. Even if that was true, he thought, no one would ever be able to touch the wealth of Lucius Malfoy, his father. Draco considered his father, who was standing quietly with his wife and nodding stiffly to his guests, with a slight grin.
Draco felt lucky, mostly, to have Lucius as a father. When Lucius married Narcissa, Draco's mother, the Malfoy name had already provided them with enough money to last them and a family for the rest of their lives. Lucius was greedy in all respects, though, and on the constant look-out for things to make his wealth grow even more. Malfoys were often indifferent to current events, but Lucius heard that the powerful wizard Voldemort paid his loyal followers well, and so he readily joined. Lucius, like all Malfoys, was also indifferent to the pain and suffering of others, which made him perfect for the job. This is how Lucius Malfoy became a very active Death Eater and a ridiculously rich man while beginning a tradition that Draco was expected to follow.
Tradition.
The word echoed painfully in Draco's mind, but failed to stir any thought. Draco attached no emotion to the word.
Draco honored his father as he knew he should, as tradition told him he should, and yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, Draco knew his father was a terrible, greedy pig. Actually, in the back of his mind, Draco quietly hated all of his relatives. He just refused to listen to that voice there that said so.
The voice seemed even harder to ignore as he watched his grandmother hold up her hand adorned with an enormous diamond ring for one of his aunts to study with blatantly fake admiration.
"Draco." The very voice of Lucius Malfoy cut through Draco's thoughts, or lack thereof.
"Yes, Father?"
"I believe your great aunt and uncle are waiting for your greeting."
Draco was quite startled to see an elderly and overdressed witch and wizard standing on his right and frowning down upon him.
"Hello, Aunt Castanea. Good evening, Uncle Arborel," said Draco calmly. His eyes burned from the urge to roll with annoyance.
His great aunt and uncle huffed in reply and turned away quickly. Apparently years of Malfoy parties were finally getting to Arborel and Castanea. Or perhaps years of being Malfoys had made Arborel and Castanea even more insufferable than two years before.
Draco could still feel the eyes of his father on him and fought back the need to squirm appropriately.
"Everyone has arrived, Draco," Lucius said, his voice slow and even. "You may join your relatives."
Draco met his father's eyes reluctantly.
"Actually, Father, could I be excused for a moment?"
There was a slight raise to Lucius' eyebrows, as though the question was really quite inappropriate.
"I suppose. But do not take too long; your relatives are impatient."
Draco knew his relatives could actually care less. Teenaged boys rarely showed jealously for designer robes and diamonds.
Draco felt both relieved and awkward as he turned away from his father's gaze and walked quickly down the long hallway. He wasn't sure what he excused himself for, so he felt himself soon wandering through the maze of hallways aimlessly. He watched his feet and the carpet fly underneath them, but soon his pace slackened and he lifted his head. The hallways were lavishly decorated, and priceless works of art were framed and hanging on the walls. Draco barely acknowledged the paintings. Years of watching his mother purchase them and hang them thoughtlessly on the walls had made him indifferent to nearly any kind of art. Draco slid his hands causally into his pockets and lowered his head back to the carpet and his slowly moving feet.
When Draco finally looked up again, he found himself just outside the library. He entered with the slightest shrug of his shoulders.
Draco was actually the only person who ever utilized the library, and it was where he ended up spending most of his time. Literature was one art form that Draco was definitely not indifferent to, and he read passionately. The library itself was incredibly large and bursting with books. Although Draco read a lot, he knew that not in a million lifetimes would he be able to even touch all of the books that library contained.
Draco strolled in slowly, taking in the familiar walls and shelves. Actually, every bit of wall not occupied by a bookshelf was covered in old framed portraits of dead Malfoys who peered suspiciously at him and studied the covers of the books he read as though he was always getting into something he wasn't supposed to. Thinking he had had enough of being surveyed by his family members, Draco avoided their eyes and took a seat on a nearby sofa right next to Nita, who was bathing herself quietly.
Magical animals were often bred for high prices in the wizarding community. They were thought to be much smarter than "average" animals and held a few magical abilities of their own, much to the entertainment of those who owned them. When Draco was a small child, Lucius had bought a magically bred cat for his son, who Draco affectionately named Nita. Lucius bought Nita for Draco out his duty as a father, unaware of joy the cat would actually bring his son. Nita had never shown any obvious evidence of possessing magical powers or unusual amounts of intelligence, but Draco loved his cat nonetheless. Lucius had taught Draco that loving, caring, or showing affection for anything or anybody was both disgraceful and unnecessary, and so Draco was forced to care about his cat in a very secretive manor.
"How's is going, Nita?"
The cat acknowledged the blonde boy by momentarily lifting her head from her own fur.
Draco watched Nita with a sad smile and sighed.
He sat in silence for several minutes, petting Nita absent-mindedly. It was after these few minutes that Draco faced the pictures of his relatives, who looking at him as if he was doing something very wrong. Draco began to feel the tiniest bit guilty.
Draco felt as if his family was always haunting him.
And yet, he didn't really get too tired of it.
He was rich, handsome, and probably envied by wizards all over the world.
As Draco watched the faces of his late family members, he suddenly felt very ashamed for abandoning his living ones. Standing up gracefully, he puffed himself up with his Malfoy pride and left the library with a quick pace.
It was Draco's duty as a Malfoy to be proud, and he quite aware of this fact.
------------
I'd appreciate some comments!
