Draco sat alone a week later, staring out into the fire of the fireplace. The Slytherin Common Room was very differant from Gryffindor. Unlike Gryffindor, it was not a tower and there was no view of the forbidden forest and Hagrid's Hut. It extended under the school lake, and the ceiling was lower then Gryffindor. Dumbledore could barely stand up straight in the common room. Green torches illuminated the room, as well as the bleak green fireplace.
Everyone was down at breakfast, but Draco had gotten mail from his father, and it was in a silky green envelope which meant it was extremely private... He couldn't even show Crabbe or Goyle. He sighed, tracing his fingers over the envelope, his lips slightly pursed.
Draco looked down at the letter from his father, putting his nose up in disgust. He suddenly felt like he was being imprisoned, chained to his father's curse of surving under the Lord of Darkness, Voldemort. He felt that life had so much more to it then power and rule over others, being magical or not. But a reputation betrayed him, as well as his fathers, made him stiffer and uglier each day. He looked at the mirror and saw a bleak face, growing sulky, his teeth crooked and his nose turning into his mother's, like there was a bad smell in the air. It was the curse of frowning upon Muggles, even though it was not what he believed to be right, it was more of his father cursing Draco. He opened the seal, and the room seemed to hiss. He read his father's letter...
DEAR SON,
SOME DAY YOU WILL REALISE THAT IT IS NOT QUESTION THAT GETS YOU ANYWHERE, IT IS BELIEF. I KNOW YOU WONDER SOMETIMES IF GOING TO OUR LORD IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO. BUT YOU MUST BELIEVE JUST AS I LEARNED TO. THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO WOULD DO JUST THE SAME, KILL FOR POWER, FROWN UPON THE WEAKER, BUT BECAUSE WE ARE THE ONES FROWNING, THEY COULD NEVER COME THROUGH WITH IT. KILLED OR BE KILLED, MY SON. AND THE LORD IS STRONG. TO DISOBEY HIM WOULD ONLY BRING US THE FATE AS THE FOOLISH POTTERS. THAT IS WHY I DETEST THEM. THEY CHOSE TO BE KILLED BECAUSE THEY THOUGHT THAT THEY COULD BEND THE RULES, DEFEAT VOLDEMORT. IT WAS RIDICULOUS, THE ONLY ONES WHO COULD DEFEAT HIM IS DUMBLEDORE AND THE POTTER'S SON, HARRY, AND IT IS ONLY WITH LUCK THIS HAPPENS. THE SORCERERS STONE, ITS OBSTACLES WERE DEFEATED BY LUCK. MR. POTTER COULDN'T DEFEAT TOM RIDDLE IN THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS WITHOUT THAT TEACHER HE TOOK WITH HIM. THESE ARE THE RULES OF OUR GENERATION, SON. LEARN THEM. KILL OR BE KILLED. NEVER DISOBEY THOSE WHO KILL. NEVER DECIEVE THE UNDECIEVABLE. I RAISED YOU THAT WAY. BELIEVE IT. FROWN ON THE WEAK, MUGGLES, SQUIBBS, POOR NON-MUGGLES, ALL OF THEM, FOR THEY ARE THOSE THAT ARE KILLED. IF WE ARE TO SMILE UPON THEM, WE JOIN THEM. I DID NOT WORK THIS HARD FOR YOU TO BE KILLED, MY SON.
YOUR FATHER,
LUCIUS MALFOY
His dad was so tacky, so sappy, so pathetic! Draco looked at it sickened. Only under the light of the safe green fireplace, the flame dancing in the embers, is he allowed to frown at his father's ruled. Or like his father said, he'd be killed...
"Draco! Draco!" yelled Cho Chang, running after him as they passed through classes. He stopped his fast paced walking, rolled his eyes, then stopped walking, his green cloak swaying as he turned around to her.
"It's Malfoy, and were you not satisfied with your little defeat speech? Is it that you need an answer? Well defeat tastes like crap, and you can put your face in it." he snaps, Cho Chang looking shocked.
"Um... you left your book, Snape sent me to give it to you, he said to tell you good job today. Glad you just love defeat!" she mutters with a sarcastic, then stalks off. He rolled his eyes, then followed after her.
"Look, I'm sorry, I just... I got a letter from my father today and it wasn't exactly a cheering letter." said Draco apologetically. She looked at him curiously, then smiled warmly.
"Well... I'm here..."
"Um.. Thanks, I guess... n' I'm sorry for... you know... the quidditch game."
"Wow jesus, Malfoy, you've gotten soft."
"Excuse me?" he raised his eyebrows, frowning
"No, not like that, it's just... you've never apologised for anything before! I mean, first at the Quidditch game, you smiled at me even though we totally plummited your butts, and now you're apologising for something! I mean, my friends always said that you were just a cold stiff but I knew there was something-" she started saying extremely fast, being interuppted by Draco.
"Slow down, Cho. I get it. You thought that I had a heart, that I'm going to be mister emotional like Mister Harry Potty-boy, well guess again. I'm not. The hell with you." he snaps, getting into her face. He throws his father's letter on the ground angrily, then stalked off angrily.
Everyone was down at breakfast, but Draco had gotten mail from his father, and it was in a silky green envelope which meant it was extremely private... He couldn't even show Crabbe or Goyle. He sighed, tracing his fingers over the envelope, his lips slightly pursed.
Draco looked down at the letter from his father, putting his nose up in disgust. He suddenly felt like he was being imprisoned, chained to his father's curse of surving under the Lord of Darkness, Voldemort. He felt that life had so much more to it then power and rule over others, being magical or not. But a reputation betrayed him, as well as his fathers, made him stiffer and uglier each day. He looked at the mirror and saw a bleak face, growing sulky, his teeth crooked and his nose turning into his mother's, like there was a bad smell in the air. It was the curse of frowning upon Muggles, even though it was not what he believed to be right, it was more of his father cursing Draco. He opened the seal, and the room seemed to hiss. He read his father's letter...
DEAR SON,
SOME DAY YOU WILL REALISE THAT IT IS NOT QUESTION THAT GETS YOU ANYWHERE, IT IS BELIEF. I KNOW YOU WONDER SOMETIMES IF GOING TO OUR LORD IS THE RIGHT THING TO DO. BUT YOU MUST BELIEVE JUST AS I LEARNED TO. THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT THERE WHO WOULD DO JUST THE SAME, KILL FOR POWER, FROWN UPON THE WEAKER, BUT BECAUSE WE ARE THE ONES FROWNING, THEY COULD NEVER COME THROUGH WITH IT. KILLED OR BE KILLED, MY SON. AND THE LORD IS STRONG. TO DISOBEY HIM WOULD ONLY BRING US THE FATE AS THE FOOLISH POTTERS. THAT IS WHY I DETEST THEM. THEY CHOSE TO BE KILLED BECAUSE THEY THOUGHT THAT THEY COULD BEND THE RULES, DEFEAT VOLDEMORT. IT WAS RIDICULOUS, THE ONLY ONES WHO COULD DEFEAT HIM IS DUMBLEDORE AND THE POTTER'S SON, HARRY, AND IT IS ONLY WITH LUCK THIS HAPPENS. THE SORCERERS STONE, ITS OBSTACLES WERE DEFEATED BY LUCK. MR. POTTER COULDN'T DEFEAT TOM RIDDLE IN THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS WITHOUT THAT TEACHER HE TOOK WITH HIM. THESE ARE THE RULES OF OUR GENERATION, SON. LEARN THEM. KILL OR BE KILLED. NEVER DISOBEY THOSE WHO KILL. NEVER DECIEVE THE UNDECIEVABLE. I RAISED YOU THAT WAY. BELIEVE IT. FROWN ON THE WEAK, MUGGLES, SQUIBBS, POOR NON-MUGGLES, ALL OF THEM, FOR THEY ARE THOSE THAT ARE KILLED. IF WE ARE TO SMILE UPON THEM, WE JOIN THEM. I DID NOT WORK THIS HARD FOR YOU TO BE KILLED, MY SON.
YOUR FATHER,
LUCIUS MALFOY
His dad was so tacky, so sappy, so pathetic! Draco looked at it sickened. Only under the light of the safe green fireplace, the flame dancing in the embers, is he allowed to frown at his father's ruled. Or like his father said, he'd be killed...
"Draco! Draco!" yelled Cho Chang, running after him as they passed through classes. He stopped his fast paced walking, rolled his eyes, then stopped walking, his green cloak swaying as he turned around to her.
"It's Malfoy, and were you not satisfied with your little defeat speech? Is it that you need an answer? Well defeat tastes like crap, and you can put your face in it." he snaps, Cho Chang looking shocked.
"Um... you left your book, Snape sent me to give it to you, he said to tell you good job today. Glad you just love defeat!" she mutters with a sarcastic, then stalks off. He rolled his eyes, then followed after her.
"Look, I'm sorry, I just... I got a letter from my father today and it wasn't exactly a cheering letter." said Draco apologetically. She looked at him curiously, then smiled warmly.
"Well... I'm here..."
"Um.. Thanks, I guess... n' I'm sorry for... you know... the quidditch game."
"Wow jesus, Malfoy, you've gotten soft."
"Excuse me?" he raised his eyebrows, frowning
"No, not like that, it's just... you've never apologised for anything before! I mean, first at the Quidditch game, you smiled at me even though we totally plummited your butts, and now you're apologising for something! I mean, my friends always said that you were just a cold stiff but I knew there was something-" she started saying extremely fast, being interuppted by Draco.
"Slow down, Cho. I get it. You thought that I had a heart, that I'm going to be mister emotional like Mister Harry Potty-boy, well guess again. I'm not. The hell with you." he snaps, getting into her face. He throws his father's letter on the ground angrily, then stalked off angrily.