Started writing the first draft of my novel after almost half a year of drafting, I've been feeling incredibly burnt-out from uni, that and some other stuff going on. Been looking for a hobby that isn't just worthless consumption like browsing reddit or youtube. Would start up boxing or dancing if it wasn't for covid, but then I remembered that I used to actually enjoy writing fanfiction. It's productive, it's writing, its fun, its rewarding since I get positive feedback, so I thought why not. Here's a chapter of MMM, I've mostly been thinking about starting a new pokemon and HP SI but I thought I'd start with something simpler.
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It was assuredly an odd-sight for anyone taking a look. Although naturally, nobody was doing so. We, the entire Malfoy family, were on private property after all. Something that, in the realm of magic, still had actual meaning. Not because people were any less greedy for the property of others, although to be fair someone with magic would hardly ever starve, which was supposedly one of the biggest reasons for crime… I noticed my argument falling apart and abandoned it before it could ripen to a full-on embarrassment. Ahem-
It was a sunny day in the varifold woods behind Malfoy manor. We were standing in one of the clearings inspecting the freshly built structure that for everyone without the capacity to look underground would look like a simple white pagoda built after the Greek style of twisting pillars and clean edges. A place for the denizens of this property, the Malfoys, to relax after a stressful day of enjoying their retirement, gossiping with their distinguished group of lady friends, twisting well-meaning laws into power-hungry aberrations of themselves, and grooming little girls. A place to look out into the beautiful surrounding woods and enjoy the sounds of the wind passing through the trees, of birds chirping, and the sight of the occasional bigger animal such as a deer or a boar. Which would then be promptly and unceremoniously shot dead with a spell and harvested by house-elves. Hunting was a very odd-sport in the magical world, the effortlessness of it giving it a different cultural meaning. The death of the animal hunted was never in question, however the humour, efficiency or cleanliness that one killed it with was something that brought upon heated debate and praise.
I was losing my train of thought today. To be fairly honest, I felt a bit concussed, which is my excuse for this narration being a bit odd in comparison to previous examples penned by my hand. You see, I had been practicing legillimency with my mother this morning. I had been very close to finally breaking down her walls and had run headfirst against them a bit too often, a bit too strongly. I was simply excited, is all. I'd already bested my father and his father and their sneaky ways of attempting to escape my probe, but beating my mother and her aggressive defence would serve as final proof that I could wield both finesse and strength.
I digress, again, a magical equivalent of a concussion however, is a valid excuse, therefore I shall not apologise. I brushed pine needles from my blue sweater, I had convinced my parents that I could wear muggle clothes sometimes. They agreed to my incessant demands with eyes rolling. It was one of the few completely childish things I'd ever asked for. Not really childish of course, muggle clothes were just more comfortable and practical.
"-stra fidelius!" My grand-father concluded grandly, wand pointed gently at my mother who was kneeling with a bowed head on the ground. I suddenly became confused why I was standing around with the entirety of my family in this part of the property. I usually visited the forest only in the mornings, for some exercise, and I had certainly never seen my family all here together. My mother was kneeling on the ground, rubbing her temples, which confused me. Why was she kneeling, pure-blood ladies didn't kneel for anything but ritualistic purposes, and why was my grandfather looking at her so expectantly.
I shared a confused look with my father, who was standing beside me. Just before I started questioning the situation, my mother began speaking. "The underground Malfoy library and the pagoda that it rests under are hidden within the forested property behind the manor." She solemnly proclaimed, trying fairly hard to add an air of gravitas to the situation. Which she really didn't need to. We'd just cast the fidelius, one of the most complicated charms in the western part of the magical world. We'd effectively immunized ourselves to any search of our properties that would occur in the future. A fairly big deal, seeing as we now didn't need to fear any ministry politicking resulting in aurors being sent over to find dark artefacts.
"Congratulations, father." Lucius said to Abraxas as he walked over to give the man a very out of nature hug. I guess growing as a wizard was something to be celebrated. The man then turned his attention to his wife, who was still kneeling. Something I was beginning to suspect might not be entirely voluntary. Not wanting to intrude on their private moment. Mother would tell me if something worse than fatigue was occurring. I went over to my grandfather.
"How are you feeling?" I asked as I sidled up next to him, turned towards a crow sitting on a tree in a way which allowed me to keep my parents in my periphery.
"Elated, but tired." Abraxas said happily, but wearily.
"I've always wondered why not every single Magical isn't permanently trying their hardest to explore the depths of their gift and potential power." I commented.
Abraxas remained quiet.
"Born with the ability to bend reality at your fingertips, even unclassified magic is enough to keep one busy for a life-time, yet most simply squander their time with other pursuits that bring so little fulfilment in comparison." I said quietly as flames licked at my fingertips, creating a pleasing tingling effect.
"There is no easy answer to this question I imagine, or rather, everyone has their own." Abraxas eventually said.
"Some magicals pretend like they need a job to survive, where if they simply put in enough effort, they'd never need to work again in their life. Others become so disenfranchised with magic due to the school environment which they got to know it from that they lose their sense of wonder. Some are simply too caught up in their daily lives, using magic only as a tool to solve the underwhelming issues that spawn in them. It's a cultural issue at heart. Or a human one. Things are only seen in connection to their utility, and this mindset has poisoned even the holiest of powers." I rambled with unfocused eyes, everything jumbling together into a blur of green and brown that became wet as I forgot to blink and moisture built in my eyes.
"You are judging me for only delving into the deeper aspects of magic once I saw its utility?" Abraxas asked softly.
I heard the silent hurt in the words said to me that day. But I felt an inexplicable urge, after having witnessed such an amazing feat of magic, to make my stand-point clear. To declare to the world what I was going to do. To declare to another human what my relationship with magic was.
"No, you are my grandfather and my love for you is unconditional. All judgement is lost in the sea of affection and all that is left is a wish for you to fulfil your potential. Something that only you can best know how to do. No judgement, trust; no derision, encouragement; no disappointment, love. I simply feel that this is the moment to make a statement in front of at least one person, so I may be held accountable, and so that my path becomes more distinct." I said and felt my grandfather slowly nod for me to continue. "Knowledge for the sake of knowledge, power for the sake of power, magic for the sake of magic. Utility is a human concept, something that becomes unwanted when one's goal is apotheosis. All that we are must be sought to be replaced by universal truth."
"You scare me sometimes, Draco. You make me fear what is to become of this family, because I am beginning to see that it has perhaps borne a child whose ambitions shall become impossible to be contained within it. But other times… I cannot help but imagine, salivate, at what you could become and that I may hold a role, no matter how miniscule, in who you end up becoming." Abraxas said, and I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder.
"After a certain point, one's identity is not questioned by who, but by what." I muttered and saw the world once again in sharp clarity.
-/-
Not sure how well I'm continuing this considering its been more than a year now, but I enjoyed writing this chapter, so I think some of you should enjoy reading it. Bit of a cringe factor when rereading the whole thing to know what's going on - why I want to start some new stories maybe
