A/N At last we have reached the part I originally created this story for!
Draconis Malfoy and her bizarre interactions with men, in the context of
her intense relationship with her Father. (and some slug-vomiting capers!)
Thanks to Shirogane for telling me how to accept unsigned reviews!
A couple of weeks ago I met someone who'd been an extra in Harry Potter! She appears at the point where Harry breaks his arm. Of course I asked her the obvious burning question - but unfortunately she hadn't met Lucius. She liked Alan Rickman though, and especially liked Kenneth Branagh. She said Tom Felton was really sweet. Just thought some of you may be interested.
**********
I am now in my seventh and final year at Hogwarts. I enjoy manipulation and revenge more than ever and I'm getting better and better at it. I like to watch other people squirm. Sometimes I'd set something up, and the settle myself down to watch the scene play itself out. I break up relationships just for fun, I destroy others' dreams for my own amusement, and I subject people to utter humiliation merely to alleviate boredom. My favourite toy has now become the opposite sex. They are so gullible, weak and stupid, they cry out for being played with. I love messing with their heads and destroying their lives, they deserve it. Boys are terrified of me, yet they cannot resist me. I trade on that. Everybody wants a piece of Lucius Malfoy's daughter. And those who don't are punished.
There were two prefects last year who went everywhere together. The Gryffindor was arrogant and cocksure - he abused his position far too much and he thought very highly of himself. The Hufflepuff was quieter of nature, obviously unsure of himself and he followed the Gryffindor about like a house-elf. The Gryffindor had attracted my wrath for the simple fact that he made obvious his disinterest in me. I was offering the chance of a night of passion with Draconis Malfoy herself, I would have thought he'd be brimming with gratitude. OK, I was never intending to give it him, but that's beside the point. That I had been rejected made me feel physically sick with anger. All I desired was to transfer that feeling on to him, and make him suffer as I had done. So I arranged a chat with the Hufflepuff. I much preferred him. He deferred to me ad treated me like the lady I was - opening doors for me, offering me his last Everyflavour bean. He was so nervous of me he stuttered, and his eyes were wide and terrified. Much better. That mollified me enough to make me flatter him all the more. I told him that the Bloody Baron had informed me of an overheard conversation in the staff room, that he was infinitely better that his companion and that he was being considered ideal Head-Boy material. Laying a hand on his arm (causing him to nearly fall over) I said that I had heard whispers in the corridors, everyone was saying the Gryffindor was a hopeless prefect, and that he, the Hufflepuff commanded far more respect. The Slytherin were saying it, the Hufflepuff, the Gryffindor. The lies tripped easily off my tongue.
Of course the misguided Hufflepuff couldn't resist bragging to his friend. As I had expected, the Gryffindor took it badly. I'd knocked the wind out of his sails. I'd see him mooching round the corridor with his shoulders slumped, unable to muster even a token effort to stop my Slytherin from running riot round Gryffindor Tower.
Incidentally, neither of them were selected as Head-Boy. I heard the Gryfindor had been in line for the title, but he had suddenly blown it towards the end of the year.
Sometimes blokes really infuriate me. I was working on a project with a Ravenclaw once. I was seething that I had been paired with a boring, bookish Ravenclaw. Blast Flitwick! I had fun trying to corrupt her though. I used to her drag her to Hogsmeade so we could do our work in the pub. She'd moan and whine all the way about breaking school rules, but the more she complained the more I'd laugh. I'd just order her more alcohol. The Ravenclaw hated that pub. The clientele was almost all male, and they'd leer suggestively at us. I'd love it of course, but the Ravenclaw would be on the verge of tears. I forced her to come along every time, otherwise I'd refuse to do the work. A Ravenclaw's worst nightmare that, not having enough work to hand in. I was at the bar when some pig-headed youth shouted something obscene at me for pushing in. Nobody swears at me. I seized his chin in my hand digging my fingernails into his filthy skin and forced his head round to face me.
"Don't you know who I am?" I growled menacingly. He gazed at me blearily as I informed him coldly. I saw the realisation dawn upon him slowly.
"Eat slugs."
The poor boy was seized with the most violent convulsions, and he grasped at the bar for support as he coughed and writhed in agony. He heaved and heaved, great fat slugs plopping out of his gaping mouth onto the stone floor. The other patrons stared in fascinated disgust at his mouth, ringed with dripping slime, waiting for the next slug to emerge.
"Miss Malfoy." he was gasping "please."
I lounged casually against the bar, presenting myself at my most alluring so that he could fully reflect upon the error of his ways.
"You must apologise."
"Sorry-" he gurgled, as another slug slithered out cutting off the end of the word.
"Profusely."
"Miss Malfoy, I am so terribly sorry, now please-"
"Not good enough."
"I am so very very very sorry, please forgive me..."
I collected two drinks that somebody else had ordered and wandered over to my table leaving my victim to his tortured apology.
"Aren't you going to stop this Draconis?" asked my Ravenclaw companion, who I must say, was looking quite distressed.
"Nothing I can do," I shrugged. "Guess we'll just have to wait until it wears off." Bored then, I turned my back and sipped the drink. Tia Maria and coke, good choice.
*
And that was just for a few drunken swear words. So I guess you could say that was one reason why I can get men at the drop of a hat. But one must also consider my looks, the blonde hair and chiseled cheekbones I inherited from my Father, and the slight frame that came from my mother. And last but by no means least, there is the prestige associated with nobbing a Malfoy.
It is rather unfortunate then, that I have yet to have come across a male that I even remotely desire. In fact, I find them quite vile. Boys ooze round the corridors of Hogwarts sniffing out the girls who saunter past without realising what an inadequate species they really are. When I compare them to my Father, I laugh out loud. Or I feel physically sick. I need a man who is at least as strong as my Father. For ultimately, a boyfriend serves as a replacement for a girl's father, someone to take over the job of protecting her. Though I fail to imagine how any of these pathetic specimens could take on that task. As I have proved on many occasions, I am perfectly capable of protecting myself. The boys at Hogwarts are just that: boys. They are skinny and weak, with receding chins, spotty faces and legs like stick insects. Their robes hang off them. No wonder so many girls here diet; it is a necessity if you wish to be thinner than the men! I have seen them on a sunny day in Hogsmeade; parading round the park with their pigeon chests exposed, hideous forms of puny white flesh. I felt so ill I had to return to my room.
My Father is so big and strong, so comforting, he makes me feel so safe. He is twice the size of these men. I have grown up so close to him, that that is what I consider to be normal. The boys I have met have all been aberrations, too small and weak to be considered male. I long to find someone who can make me feel as protected as when I am with my Father. Someone into whose arms I can sink, onto whose chest I can lay my head and close my eyes without feeling frightened. I know I must leave my Father one day. The thought makes me feel quite weak with terror. But I know I cannot go on being his little girl for ever. If for nothing else, it is my duty to procreate, to further the Malfoy line. However I am still holding out, in the hope that somehow, I may come across a man who can equal my Father, someone who is strong and powerful, who commands presence of his own, who can tame the willful daughter of Lucius Malfoy himself.
***************************
I'll leave it there. Writing that has made me feel very emotional. Next time I must increase the rating to R, so adjust your settings at the top if you wish to find the subsequent chapters. I have bumped it up because the next episode treats Miss Malfoy's night-time activities, and the rest of the story is very dark indeed.
On a lighter note, I am working on other fics. For those who like Alan Rickman, there is a HP/ Robin Hood Prince of Thieves crossover (also R- rated), with a pure RHPofT version on the RH section. I have also started an offshoot to this, where Draconis goes to Germany, inspired by the holiday I took there at the weekend. This one also treats her relationships with men, but it is PG13.
Thanks to Shirogane for telling me how to accept unsigned reviews!
A couple of weeks ago I met someone who'd been an extra in Harry Potter! She appears at the point where Harry breaks his arm. Of course I asked her the obvious burning question - but unfortunately she hadn't met Lucius. She liked Alan Rickman though, and especially liked Kenneth Branagh. She said Tom Felton was really sweet. Just thought some of you may be interested.
**********
I am now in my seventh and final year at Hogwarts. I enjoy manipulation and revenge more than ever and I'm getting better and better at it. I like to watch other people squirm. Sometimes I'd set something up, and the settle myself down to watch the scene play itself out. I break up relationships just for fun, I destroy others' dreams for my own amusement, and I subject people to utter humiliation merely to alleviate boredom. My favourite toy has now become the opposite sex. They are so gullible, weak and stupid, they cry out for being played with. I love messing with their heads and destroying their lives, they deserve it. Boys are terrified of me, yet they cannot resist me. I trade on that. Everybody wants a piece of Lucius Malfoy's daughter. And those who don't are punished.
There were two prefects last year who went everywhere together. The Gryffindor was arrogant and cocksure - he abused his position far too much and he thought very highly of himself. The Hufflepuff was quieter of nature, obviously unsure of himself and he followed the Gryffindor about like a house-elf. The Gryffindor had attracted my wrath for the simple fact that he made obvious his disinterest in me. I was offering the chance of a night of passion with Draconis Malfoy herself, I would have thought he'd be brimming with gratitude. OK, I was never intending to give it him, but that's beside the point. That I had been rejected made me feel physically sick with anger. All I desired was to transfer that feeling on to him, and make him suffer as I had done. So I arranged a chat with the Hufflepuff. I much preferred him. He deferred to me ad treated me like the lady I was - opening doors for me, offering me his last Everyflavour bean. He was so nervous of me he stuttered, and his eyes were wide and terrified. Much better. That mollified me enough to make me flatter him all the more. I told him that the Bloody Baron had informed me of an overheard conversation in the staff room, that he was infinitely better that his companion and that he was being considered ideal Head-Boy material. Laying a hand on his arm (causing him to nearly fall over) I said that I had heard whispers in the corridors, everyone was saying the Gryffindor was a hopeless prefect, and that he, the Hufflepuff commanded far more respect. The Slytherin were saying it, the Hufflepuff, the Gryffindor. The lies tripped easily off my tongue.
Of course the misguided Hufflepuff couldn't resist bragging to his friend. As I had expected, the Gryffindor took it badly. I'd knocked the wind out of his sails. I'd see him mooching round the corridor with his shoulders slumped, unable to muster even a token effort to stop my Slytherin from running riot round Gryffindor Tower.
Incidentally, neither of them were selected as Head-Boy. I heard the Gryfindor had been in line for the title, but he had suddenly blown it towards the end of the year.
Sometimes blokes really infuriate me. I was working on a project with a Ravenclaw once. I was seething that I had been paired with a boring, bookish Ravenclaw. Blast Flitwick! I had fun trying to corrupt her though. I used to her drag her to Hogsmeade so we could do our work in the pub. She'd moan and whine all the way about breaking school rules, but the more she complained the more I'd laugh. I'd just order her more alcohol. The Ravenclaw hated that pub. The clientele was almost all male, and they'd leer suggestively at us. I'd love it of course, but the Ravenclaw would be on the verge of tears. I forced her to come along every time, otherwise I'd refuse to do the work. A Ravenclaw's worst nightmare that, not having enough work to hand in. I was at the bar when some pig-headed youth shouted something obscene at me for pushing in. Nobody swears at me. I seized his chin in my hand digging my fingernails into his filthy skin and forced his head round to face me.
"Don't you know who I am?" I growled menacingly. He gazed at me blearily as I informed him coldly. I saw the realisation dawn upon him slowly.
"Eat slugs."
The poor boy was seized with the most violent convulsions, and he grasped at the bar for support as he coughed and writhed in agony. He heaved and heaved, great fat slugs plopping out of his gaping mouth onto the stone floor. The other patrons stared in fascinated disgust at his mouth, ringed with dripping slime, waiting for the next slug to emerge.
"Miss Malfoy." he was gasping "please."
I lounged casually against the bar, presenting myself at my most alluring so that he could fully reflect upon the error of his ways.
"You must apologise."
"Sorry-" he gurgled, as another slug slithered out cutting off the end of the word.
"Profusely."
"Miss Malfoy, I am so terribly sorry, now please-"
"Not good enough."
"I am so very very very sorry, please forgive me..."
I collected two drinks that somebody else had ordered and wandered over to my table leaving my victim to his tortured apology.
"Aren't you going to stop this Draconis?" asked my Ravenclaw companion, who I must say, was looking quite distressed.
"Nothing I can do," I shrugged. "Guess we'll just have to wait until it wears off." Bored then, I turned my back and sipped the drink. Tia Maria and coke, good choice.
*
And that was just for a few drunken swear words. So I guess you could say that was one reason why I can get men at the drop of a hat. But one must also consider my looks, the blonde hair and chiseled cheekbones I inherited from my Father, and the slight frame that came from my mother. And last but by no means least, there is the prestige associated with nobbing a Malfoy.
It is rather unfortunate then, that I have yet to have come across a male that I even remotely desire. In fact, I find them quite vile. Boys ooze round the corridors of Hogwarts sniffing out the girls who saunter past without realising what an inadequate species they really are. When I compare them to my Father, I laugh out loud. Or I feel physically sick. I need a man who is at least as strong as my Father. For ultimately, a boyfriend serves as a replacement for a girl's father, someone to take over the job of protecting her. Though I fail to imagine how any of these pathetic specimens could take on that task. As I have proved on many occasions, I am perfectly capable of protecting myself. The boys at Hogwarts are just that: boys. They are skinny and weak, with receding chins, spotty faces and legs like stick insects. Their robes hang off them. No wonder so many girls here diet; it is a necessity if you wish to be thinner than the men! I have seen them on a sunny day in Hogsmeade; parading round the park with their pigeon chests exposed, hideous forms of puny white flesh. I felt so ill I had to return to my room.
My Father is so big and strong, so comforting, he makes me feel so safe. He is twice the size of these men. I have grown up so close to him, that that is what I consider to be normal. The boys I have met have all been aberrations, too small and weak to be considered male. I long to find someone who can make me feel as protected as when I am with my Father. Someone into whose arms I can sink, onto whose chest I can lay my head and close my eyes without feeling frightened. I know I must leave my Father one day. The thought makes me feel quite weak with terror. But I know I cannot go on being his little girl for ever. If for nothing else, it is my duty to procreate, to further the Malfoy line. However I am still holding out, in the hope that somehow, I may come across a man who can equal my Father, someone who is strong and powerful, who commands presence of his own, who can tame the willful daughter of Lucius Malfoy himself.
***************************
I'll leave it there. Writing that has made me feel very emotional. Next time I must increase the rating to R, so adjust your settings at the top if you wish to find the subsequent chapters. I have bumped it up because the next episode treats Miss Malfoy's night-time activities, and the rest of the story is very dark indeed.
On a lighter note, I am working on other fics. For those who like Alan Rickman, there is a HP/ Robin Hood Prince of Thieves crossover (also R- rated), with a pure RHPofT version on the RH section. I have also started an offshoot to this, where Draconis goes to Germany, inspired by the holiday I took there at the weekend. This one also treats her relationships with men, but it is PG13.
