Last night, I went out flying. I'm old enough to have acquired the skills to ride one safely at night, but on all other accounts I'm a horrible rider. I've been awful at flying since childhood. No coordination whatsoever. I've already written about my awkwardness, I believe. At any rate, I went out flying over the school, over Hogsmeade, over the countryside. I made the necessary precautions not to be seen, and it was very uplifting...I just realized what a horrendous pun that was. I certainly didn't mean to use it. But it was true. I try to avoid flying during the day—a pathetic self-consciousness. I've had too many bad experiences with flying—of course, I have refereed the occasional Quidditch match, but only when it was absolutely necessary. In all honesty, I don't even like watching Quidditch that much. I suppose, when I was younger, I had grandiose dreams of playing...but I've grown out of that. Still, I'd rather not watch unless Slytherin is winning.
I don't know why, but I can't stop thinking about the time I took Draco to visit his parents in Azkaban. For some godforsaken reason, he wanted me to come along—how do you say 'no' to a boy with both his parents imprisoned? And, besides, I wanted to look Lucius Malfoy in the eye, see for myself what his life had come to. I saw Narcissa as well—Lucius is serving life, but Narcissa's sentence is markedly shorter than that. She still looked horrible. Her hair, especially—it was tangled and matted. The dementors are gone now, but Azkaban's still a horrible place. When Draco was done talking to his parents, he came out to the waiting room and informed me that his father wished to speak with me. I was intrigued, so I went in. If I recall, this is how it went. I feel a need to put it on paper.
"Hello, Lucius."
"Severus. Let's cut to the chase—it's your fault I'm here, isn't it?"
"Why, Lucius, obviously this place is already adversely affecting your sanity. You don't seem to realize that the Death Eaters lost."
"Shut up, Severus."
"Lucius, it is apparent that I don't have to listen to you anymore."
"I'm here for life, you idiot. Nothing's changing that. At least let me know if you were spying on me."
"I'd much prefer to leave you dangling."
"Get over yourself, Severus. For my sake and yours. Big bad Lucius can't hurt you anymore, Sevviekins."
"Shut up. Do you have anything important to say or not?"
"Well, actually, I do...try to take good care of Draco."
"You're kidding me. You're actually concerned about the welfare of another human being? I'm astounded."
"For some reason, he seems to admire you."
"Hmm, perhaps that would be because I don't beat him?"
"Don't you dare accuse me of things you know nothing about."
"Oh, as if you didn't, you sick bastard."
"Just try and keep him from...making bad choices."
"Lucius, neither of us are very good role models in that regard. Besides, he's only at Hogwarts for one more year. After that..."
"Just keep in touch or something! It's not that difficult!"
"All right. But it's got nothing to do with you, do you understand that?"
"Stop blaming me, Severus. You made your choices."
"I didn't know what the hell I was doing. I didn't have the capacity..."
"Just take my son back to Hogwarts, Severus."
"I'll do that, thanks." I stormed out of the room, and on the way back to Hogwarts I asked Draco if Lucius had ever beaten him, and he said of course not but he didn't say it right away.
That was right at the end of his Sixth Year—only a few months after the war ended. And how abruptly it ended, too. One day, we all wake up and the Dark Lord's just gone. Potter finally finished the deed for good, however he did it. Potter's keeping it this massive secret. He's refusing to talk about it. According to Dumbledore, even he doesn't know how Potter finished him off. While I'd love to use this as proof of Potter's giant head, I can understand where he's coming from. I probably wouldn't want to speak of it either. The details, at least—I'd keep that a part of me. And besides, Potter still gets all the glory he wants—and he's taking all he can. Thank God they're making him finish out this year...or maybe not, because I have to teach him once a week. Gryffindor/Slytherin Advanced Potions. Fun for the whole family. His attitude, while not quite deplorable, is inadequate for such an advanced class.
But back to Draco—I suppose I will take care of him. In a sense. Mainly guide him—possible be a sort of mentor? Only if he wants one, though. I'm not sure I'll be a particularly good one, but at least I know what to do with him—I'll try not to turn him into me. I mean, who wants to end up like Severus Snape? Alone, unmarried, prone to depressive episodes...it's just not the right path for most people. It works relatively well for me, I suppose, but I don't think it's what Draco needs out of life. He has the opportunity for more acceptable things. He deserves to have a life that he's proud to tell people about—and he deserves to have people to tell it to. I'm not sure what I deserve...that's not the right word. I don't know what is.