Author's Notes: It was an idea that came to me in the middle of the day. I like my characters to have depth to them, and I just can't believe that someone who had Lucius Malfoy as a father and is hailed as the prince of Slytherin has to be more than a spoiled brat. Also, since they are so rarely mentioned in the books, I'm also going to class up some other Slytherins. Other than the regular disclaimers that I don't own any of these characters the only other thing is that it starts during the 5th year. I haven't read the book in forever since it is one of the worst (coughsiriusdiescough), so only the major things will be included. It is meant to be AU though, so without further adieu . . .
Riptide
When I was nine, my family went to vacation in our beach house in Italy. When my father was busy with his affairs, my mother would take me to the ocean and teach me how to swim. Once I could swim, I felt like I could do anything. This giant, never ending expanse of water, could no longer harm me. I had thought that I had learned the secret to beat this great leviathan. I begged my mother every day to go out swimming. My father had even approved of my new found hobby. It was two weeks later that I learned the true secret of the ocean; that no one, can ever beat a leviathan.
I was swimming not very far from the shore, when all of a sudden, I was pulled out towards the ocean. All of the breath was knocked out of me, and I was pulled under the water. I was tossed and turned so much that I didn't know what was up and what was down. I can't remember what my father did, but he was eventually able to pull me from the water before I was dragged out to far. It was one of the few times that my father outwardly showed any emotion as he hugged me to his body and tried to calm his ragged breathing.
I was pulled into a riptide and nearly dumped into the ocean. The feeling of complete fear and helplessness is something that I will never forget for as long as live. It took me another week and a half before I could gather the courage to swim again. Every time I would go into the ocean after that, for that first moment that I would step in, a trill of fear would go down my spine. It is a feeling that persists to this day in any large body of water. It was something that I never wanted to feel again, and I never thought I would.
Then, at the beginning of my fifth year, without even entering the ocean, I had stumbled into another riptide. This time though, my father wasn't here to save me; he was only pulling me deeper. I'm drowning, and no one can save me. No one can even see that I'm going under, or perhaps the more truthful statement would be that no one cares.
When you're drowning, it usually takes four minutes before your brain becomes damaged from lack of oxygen, a few minutes more, and you're usually too far gone to save. I wonder sometimes, when the current isn't as strong, when my four minutes will be up.