Been dazed and confused for so long it's not true,
Wanted a woman; never bargained for you.
Lots of people talk and few of them know,
Soul of a woman was created below.
- Dazed and Confused, Led Zeppelin
She's playing bloody mind games with me, isn't she?
After I accidentally called her 'hot' and showed up a drunken mess to our meeting she wants to punish me by confusing me about her thoughts towards me. There I am thinking she absolutely loathes me, and expecting her to tell me off at some point for my rude behaviour, but no. She just edges up to me all self-consciously, could even have been cute if it had been anybody else, and hands me a picture of her house. So I won't get lost? Who does that?
I couldn't let her win our stupid competition. I figure that I have the upper hand in the battle of puzzling emotions now by being diplomatic and suggesting we pick our partners together; truthfully, I haven't picked anybody out yet, but I enjoyed her look of bewilderment at my proposal. And I'm interested in seeing her tastes in music.
Not that I think they'll be good or anything….but perhaps they'll amuse me.
Why she continues to bedazzle me with such intimate possessions of hers though, I have no idea. This photo has a little Granger standing on her lawn for Christ's sake. She looks about 3 years old, and she's playing with a kitten, while I'm guessing her mother watches on. I don't understand; wouldn't she have noticed she was in this? Why would she desire for me to use this when I could just struggle on my own to find her? I mean before 20 minutes ago, that last thing she did was fucking backhand me!
Good thing I was almost belligerent or I probably would've retaliated in some idiotic way. I was simply stating my opinions, and ithurt. Slaps hurt.
I know I acted like a huge arse around her; so I don't deserve any sort of 'visual aid' from her. I still cannot believe I told her how I actually felt. Because she did look and sounded bloody hot when she swore, I wasn't lying; I quite like her when she's angry. It means I've won, and I love winning.
Plus, though I hate it, I couldn't stop imagining how feisty she'd be in bed if she took all that anger out on my dick.
Not that I'd actually fuck her if I had the chance….she's a Mudblood. I may not believe what my parents told me anymore, but I'd be disowned if I even spoke about that. Or pursued it. Regardless of how I felt emotional for her. But, oh how I'd like to, bloody forbidden fruit she is. I'd love to see her writhe and moan because of me, to see her enjoy it because of what I did.
I don't understand sick bastards like Fenrir Greyback who actually enjoy seeing people struggle because they are stronger than their victims; that's not true power. I'd much rather have somebody who loathes me admit that what they get from me is something ideal, even pleasurable, to be forced to say that they were wrong about me. And what better way to get my fix of that than to have a girl who I've been less than nice to scream my name?
I smirk at my thoughts, and then shake my head. Seriously, what is wrong with me? If mother knew what I've been thinking, she'd probably break down in hysterical sobs; her only son sexually attracted to a lesser blood.
Albeit, a smart and talented one.
Mercy me, this is irritating the hell out of me; what are these emotions running through my head for? What the hell is this picture supposed to mean! And why was she so goddamn pleasant in presenting it to me? She's rather right in assuming I probably wouldn't be able to Apparate to her house without it; it's very difficult to travel somewhere when you don't have a clear frame of reference in your mind. But, still, I'll confess I don't deserve this sort of help.
The only manner in which you can just pop to an unfamiliar place without much trouble is if you're summoned….somehow you just know where it is you're going when you're convened. I shudder at the thought, and gaze to my forearm, the Dark Mark still looming like a horrible reminder of my past.
"What's that?" I look up from my bed. I realize i've been flipping the picture around subconsciously in my hands, staring at it for minutes while I waited for Nott to finish packing. I got my suitcase together last night, wanting to leave as soon as possible; Nott begged me to wait however, so he wouldn't have to deal with Millicent alone. Ugh, I can be such a pushover sometimes.
I guess I feel guilty, grudgingly I'll admit, because I left Nott alone drunk in here. He told me he went to speak to Astoria, the imbecile, and told her he really wanted to bang her because she's so beautiful, and didn't understand why she didn't have a good time with in Hogsmeade because he was so 'charming'. Therefore crushing any hopes of ever again salvaging a relationship with her. Bloody funny, though.
I am about to shove the damn thing in my pocket as he comes over, but suddenly I decide to ask Nott for his opinion, mano-a-mano. After all, he is the only person in I can really discuss such things with; he, unlike his father, has generally lived an unprejudiced life, he just hid it well. If he's going to continue to show interest in the events of my life, I may as well honour and feed his desire. Attention is lovely.
"No idea," I finally reply matter-of-factly, handing it out to him, wherein he grabs it raising his eyebrows. I've never surrendered so easily.
"This is….Hermione's house?" He says surprised while scanning it. I'm startled at his usage of her first name, but then he has no reason to hate her. Perhaps my using her last one is simply habit now.
"Apparently. Not too bad actually, wasn't expecting such a pleasant looking neighbourhood." And it is pleasant. Surprisingly so; her parent's dwelling is a quaint, well at least by my standards, 2 story home painted white and accented with cornflower blue on the windows and doors. The street is lined with identical looking home's pushed up against each other, but somehow hers stands out among the dingy, peeling others. Large buildings loom around the district vicinity, unfamiliar territory for me; I live protected in my manor, vast acres of tree and garden surround it. No. the Malfoy's would buy an extravagant house in an excuse to stay away from potential Muggles, and lesser bloods, whilst flaunting the wealth.
"Really, Draco? You do know that Muggles don't live in cardboard boxes and wear potato sacks like our families would have us believe," he snorts.
I turn pink, embarrassed that he suspects I'm so stupid. I knew that!
"I am aware. Excuse me for not taking Muggle Studies; I don't know what London looks like outside Diagon Alley, thank you!" I bite.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down, tips," he says smirking. "Don't get worked up now, going into the Muggle atmosphere is going to be overwhelming I'm sure. So just keep your cool, and you'll be okay. "
"You're giving me advice? Like you've been out there before," I scoff.
"Well I have, actually." He states, and my mouth hangs open flabbergasted. Surely not? "Don't look so surprised, geez. Dad took me to a Muggle strip show on Fleet Street." Ugh, disgusting. Casual sexual encounters, no thank you. "I mean, yes they were Muggles, but Dad was on the Dark Lord's orders to attempt to control one of the bodyguards for the Muggle Prime Minister. We were there for a week, and he was drunk due to stress; I wanted to get my fix," he says nauseatingly. "They were all gorgeous and flying about on poles, dressed to the nines in sexy things; so much better than looking at pictures in magazines, you know. Dad convinced the bouncer man to let us backstage if you know what I mean," he says winking.
Dreadful.
"Class is something that I thought you'd value," I say, pulling on my coat wanting to leave. "Honestly, and people wonder why wizard elitists call out others in poor taste sometimes." I whisper to myself.
Nott rolls his eyes. "Class? When my libido stops, then maybe I'll worry about who I touch. It's a big business in the Muggle world, Drakes. I'm sure if there were more lovely witches around these parts, there'd be a place for them to show off their assets, instead of just having one or two random town whores."
I pull a face; it doesn't matter to me if they're witches or not, but you have to draw the line somewhere, and clearly some Muggles do not…and wizards.
"Anyways, my point was," Nott states, "is that don't get fuming every time you learn something new from Hermione or another person because you don't understand what something is or does. Because it's going to happen to you about a million times. I asked my Dad probably every 10 seconds about shit I had no idea about, seriously." He stares at me with his dark eyes, and they look sincere. Well of course they do, I kind of expected that to happen. I realize I'm probably going to get irritated having to ask Granger of all people to explain stuff to me.…I don't want to look a fool.
"Well thanks, I suppose. Can we go now?" I ask haughtily, trying to change the subject. Nott slips on his brown boots and grey jacket then nods.
"Yep, ready now. Ungrateful bastard" I smirk at his clever attempt to make me offended.
"Locomotor Trunk," I command, the spell flowing from my wand and hitting my suitcase with a pale light. The case flips up off my bed, and trails swiftly behind me as I make my way down the stairs.
I don't acknowledge any of the other Slytherins as I march through the common room, wanting to leave as soon as possible. Nott looks like he longs to speak to Astoria, but she looks at him with such fear and loathing, that he keeps his mouth shut. When Millicent expresses interest with a sudden movement Nott pushes me halfway out the dungeon and into the corridors.
I just smirk and follow him swiftly down to the Entrance. I am looking forward to going home.
As much as I hate to convey my emotions, I do miss my mother; after all she is the only family I have left. Father is stuck in a place he'll have to stay in for a few years, no doubt broken when he escapes; Aunt Bella is dead; Even my cousin who I've never actually spoken to, Nymphadora, is dead.
I long for the calm quietness of my own room , where I can relax without interruption from anything. It's where I've spent most of my days since the night the Dark lord was killed. The next week after the battle they took Father and I away for questioning after Kingsley had been named new Minister for Magic. For some odd reason they went easy on us, though they had to arrest Father because of his connections; he let the darkest wizard of all time take refuge in his house after all. Well 'let' isn't the correct word, but it's not as if Father could've reported the activity anyways if he wanted to, the bastards. The Ministry was taken in too, in case they forgot.
I shake my head at the anger I feel; at me, at my family, at the Ministry.
Mother is in distress every waking hour, though I hope she's been okay now she's had time to think on her own. I imagine I remind her of him; I've always been compared to Father in looks, and if I was 'lucky', personality. Looking at me probably reminds her of him.
I can't believe how much time I've wasted over the years attempting to emulate and use my father's wealth and status to be better than everyone else. Because I never was, was I? I never proved anything to Father, he always criticized my academic performance, and berated me on not doing as he wished because I couldn't keep my pride and temper at bay. Even when Father continually failed at his tasks, I just wrote it off as sheer luck on Potter's part. I was so dazed into wanting to prove my worth, I still wanted to make him proud. But when I finally had the chance for glory, I didn't pull through even when I wasn't supposed to; they knew I was weak from the beginning.
How could I have even wanted to kill somebody? Especially for 'honour'? I'm a loser and a failure.
"Are you listening to me?" I snap back to the present and shift my head towards Nott.
"No," I say vacantly, not bothering to lie. I try to roll away my thoughts off my back, and say wearily "what is it?"
"Oh, uh" he says wrinkling his brow at my unusual distractedness, "just wondering what we're going to do on the train."
At my indifferent expression he says: "Well, Astoria and Millicent will be on it….how will I, we, avoid them?" It's rather tedious he insists I come up with answers to everything.
"I'm not going on the train," I sigh annoyed as we reach the entrance hall.
"What!" he exclaims.
"I'm apparating home, Nott. I don't live even close to London, and I hated the train ride here. I only took it because it's impossible to tell when the train will arrive here, so I didn't want to risk not being able to enter the shield. Now that I have my licence why should I bother sitting for 4 hours on a stupid train through the Scottish countryside?"
"Isn't it against school rules?" he asks as we walk down the staircase and out the big wooden doors. "I mean, isn't it mandatory to-"
"Shh," I hiss, as we pass Filch who is guarding the exit, eyeing us like we don't deserve to live. Stupid idiot doesn't need to get me in trouble before I leave this bloody place. After we pass him I continue. "No, it's impossible to Apparate inside of Hogwarts, but outside I see no reason why I can't; I'm not doing anything illegal."
"I suppose you`re right," he shrugs, looking dejected. "I'll have to suffer on my own, Millicent will come looking for me, wanting some love," he grimaces, forlorn. Like I feel sorry for him.
"Apparate yourself?"
"Can't, never learned," he says embarrassed. Well la-di-da.
"Guess you're in a tight spot then, huh."
He scowls at my unsympathetic manner, but I merely smirk as we stop in front of the giant exit gate into the forest where the carriages lie.
Slughorn and Sprout are being the watchmen, each standing at either side of the gate, making sure we behave, or else to keep the magical force away. I raise an eyebrow at Slughorn as we pass. It's my acknowledgement and farewell to him; he nods in confusion and waves, probably wondering what I'm up to.
The disgusting winged beasts are waiting a few meters past the gate, looking for companions to enter their car.
"Well this is where I leave you, Theodore," I say mock snootily, and salute him. "Have a fun time with Bulstrode; we can share our no doubt awful experiences again when we return here, perhaps with more liquid fun." I swish my wand at the suitcase and grab a hold of it as it falls.
"What?" he questions sacred. 'What if they see you, what if they –"
I don't hear him finish his sentence as I fade into the silent blackness, willing myself to think about the manor and holding my breath as I experience the tight squeeze that is apparition.
POOF
I land on my feet with a sharp crack in front of the giant black fence on the long drive to the house. I forgot how loud it was to travel by magic. Hopefully it didn't cause a ruckus too loud back at school.
I put my wand away and walk straight through the gate, not bothering to raise my hand. Strong magic's been placed on the manor; anti-apparition and recognition spells have been cast to only permit select people. The home-owners don't need to state who they are though, the enchantment just knows. I begin to walk.
As the gravel crunches under the weight of my feet, I contemplate how on earth I'm going to bring about telling my mother about the project. I suppose I could just tell her I'm paired with Nott, but she may be suspicious or worried enough to want to know full details.
After about 3 minutes I reach the door. I hesitate before opening it, I'm not entirely sure why, then turn the knocker slowly, taking a deep breath of the familiar smell that resides in my house.
Only, something is off.
It's eerily quiet. Perhaps my mother is away? But she knew I was coming back today…..I did apparate, but then, why would she go out if she was going to have to return in a matter of hours? Narcissa Malfoy is not the type to simply muck about around town.
As I walk through the drawing room to the staircase, tensing at the the thought of Granger and the rest of them having been tortured in there, I hear odd noises coming from above.
Peoni, how could I have forgotten? Peoni is our newest house elf, and I have to say she takes orders well. I never took the trouble to punish any of them, but Dobby was certainly a nuisance, crying every day and pissing me off. Peoni just smiles and acts like making me lunch is the greatest thing in the world.
She must be cleaning or something, I hope she didn't drop anyone's things, ugh. I'm suddenly reminded of Granger again and our conversation about the elves, and I snort. Silly girl, if she took one look at my new servant, she would shut right the hell up about her stupid SPEW.
Why are you thinking about her again?
Agh.
I enter my bedroom quickly, throwing my suitcase on my big black bed, and decide to investigate the mysterious noises. They're like an odd thumping sound, and they seem to almost be in rhythm now that I'm closer to the source. I can't imagine Peoni being the cause…so what is it?
As I step out into the long hallway, the sound is louder. It's coming from my parent's room.
It almost sounds like….a headboard. But, no. That's disgusting. And impossible. Father is in Azkaban.
I hear a high pitched scream.
My mother!
What if it's an intruder? What if she's being tortured!
I sprint to the end of the hall, losing my breath due to my lack of eating.
Okay, just turn the knob and -
POP
"AH!" I shout, as the little grey elf pops in front of me. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!" I cry not being able repress my surprise.
I don't care if he or she comes out to hurt me... I've got my wand.
Peoni's big bulbous eyes glance at me worried. "Oh sorry, sorry Master Draco. It is just that Master Narcissa has asked Peoni to block off this area in case of intrusion."
What! "But, why? Didn't you hear her scream!" I say shakily, attempting not to kick Peoni in the stomach right here just so she's out of the way.
"Oh yes, Master Draco. Peoni did, but Peoni cannot say why. Peoni was asked to keep surveillance out here and Peoni doesn't think that she should disobey orders just for Master Draco."
I'm going to slap it. "Peoni, you will move out of the way this instant."
But she just just tugs at her black cloth nervously, twitching, debating the outcome of this situation; if she does either thing she'll be disobeying orders from her Masters.
The thumping is getting louder.
I step to the right of her, trying to get past, but feel a sharp sting on my foot. "Ouch!" Bloody elves and their fancy magic.
"Oh, GOD. Oh my GOD!"
That's enough! I pick up Peoni by the head in one swift movement and toss her aside, going to rescue mother.
I punt open the door with my left foot and run in.
"Mother, mother! Are you –" And when I catch sight of the truth in the noise, I want to vomit.
The thumping origin is revealed to be my mother straddling some, some, imbecile!
She's fucking another man, my mother! In my father's own house! While he's in prison!
The scene is like some grotesque nightmare that I've found myself in where I want to look away, but I can't. I'm too disgusted to let her cover this up with no shame or remorse. I'm not going to leave, I need an explanation now.
The two rabbits stop pounding as they hear my voice. The imbecile looks up at me from lying down, the lazy prick. His expression is shocked.
Mother stops grinding, ugh, and looks behind me as she notices his wide eyes; her look of utter guiltiness makes me somewhat satisfied. It's good to know she isn't nonchalant about this ordeal, as I'm sure some cheating parents have been.
"Darling!" she says shrilly, grabbing a sheet hastily and shoving it over herself and the man. I examine him as he sits up, pulling on a blue shirt from the ground.
He's nowhere near as impeccable as father; he has a stupid chinstrap beard and small moustache with short, plain, brown hair. He's skinny too. And not in the pleasant natural way, but a bony way.
I see my mother going to grab clothing, and I turn around to allow her a few seconds to don them. She is my mother after all, she may not deserve respect presently, but that would be disturbing, to watch.
"What are you doing here so early?" she tries in her normal, clear voice. It's too friendly though; much too friendly. She usually sounds cold and bitter.
"I apparated."
"Did you? I thought I was planning to come and meet you at the Muggle station?"
"Well, maybe I decided I'd save you the unnecessary trip, I know how much you hate the Muggles," I say clipped. I'm angry. So veryangry.
I whip around, not giving her any more time to ask stupid questions. I'm happy to see she's covered her indecent self with a dress. A dress father bought her 2 years ago for Christmas.
My mouth turns into a line, I want to stay calm about this.
Calm? Your Mother is having sex with a stranger, and you want to stay CALM!
"Who's he," I state. Not a question, a command.
She ignores me; "Peoni." Ah, the bitter voice returns.
A small pop. "Yes, Master Narcissa?"
"Didn't I tell you to not let anybody in here?" she says with a smile, but her eyes giving away her rage at incompetence.
Peoni struggles, shaking with absolute fear. This is probably the first time she's disobeyed in the house of Malfoy.
"Y-yes, but. I mean, he, Master Draco, was so – so,"
"I picked her up and threw her, okay!" I shout, wanting answers now. "Who the hell is this? ! Tell me right now, or I swear to Merlin I'll write to Father right now and tell him what's happened!" I stamp my foot like a child, fists balled.
She has the audacity to laugh. To laugh!
"Peoni, leave." Peoni vanishes. "Draco, your father is aware." She says simply.
"WHAT!"
"Darling, please come here; I need to explain a few things." She said please, a word lost in her vocabulary, so I edge slowly to the bed, refusing to sit down in their stench and….fluid.
I'm going to be sick. This memory is scarred in me forever.
"Draco, this is Jean-Pierre. Jean-Pierre Du Pont." She looks at him like she's a lovesick teenager, and I cringe, my heart crushing beneath something invisible. She's never looked at Father that way. I know she loved him, but…not like that. Never like that.
He holds out his grimy hand, but I refuse to shake it, crossing my arms.
"Please, Draco. I wanted to explain this to you…in better circumstances.'
"Too late," I murmur.
She takes a deep breath.
"Jean is my fiancée." She says quietly.
At her words it feels like the entire roof collapses on my head, suffocating and knocking me out, and I have no idea how I can still be alive.
"Your what?" I whisper.
"We've been seeing each other since, well since I started visiting France." I draw in a breath. That was long before father even was sentenced to go to jail.
"Why?" I ask, trying to be cool and collected while my insides scream. I don't want a new father! Just because the old one messed up doesn't mean I require a replacement!
"Lucius….he's lost interest," she begins sadly. "Ever since he couldn't find the prophecy about Harry Potter 3 years ago, he was obsessed. Obsessed with regaining his reputation." Sounds about right. "I tried, I really did, to let him know I still loved him, supported him. But he went too far; the Dark Lord in our house? I mean, because he didn't succeed in his job you almost were murdered!" she practically shouts, and I let out a deep breath. "But he didn't care. He didn't care enough until it was too late for me. Our only son almost dead, and he still was obsessed. After last year, when we exited the Death Eaters to come find you, he – he never looked at me again. He was ashamed. He wouldn't touch me, Draco. I have needs. I may have a lot of discrepancies, but that does not mean I can't feel."
She looks so upset that I almost regret pressing on.
"B-but. Why now? Why him?" Stupid French bastard. "Don't you think Father will be worse off now with the sad memory of you fucking another man in Azkaban! You think he'll live!" I feel tears well up, but I will not cry.
"He should have foreseen this," is all she says. Her eyes sad; Jean looking uncomfortable. Not that I care, but i`d rather him know nothing about us.
She turns to him as if she suddenly remembered he was there. "Chéri, pouvez-vous partir maintenant? Je dois parler à mon fils, seul. Je vous verrai samedi."
Oh I get why she said all this on front of him now. Lovely, the guy doesn't even speak English.
He whispers something in French, which she smiles at, and stands up. He nods at me uncomfortable and departs the room without a second glance; leaving me here with my whore of a mother.
She stands up and saunters to the leather couch in the corner, where I grudgingly follow suit.
"How was school?" she asks changing the subject as I sit down. "Are you enjoying that class with your piano?" Ha, bringing up something I enjoy that you disprove of isn't going to make me relent this time.
"Yes." I lie. "In fact, I have a project with a partner for it due when I return to Hogwarts. I've agreed to travel to my partner's home to work on it," I say. I almost want to tell her it's Granger….almost.
She observes me strangely. "You agreed to go there? Who is your partner?"
"Th….Millicent Bulstrode," I say. I can't say Nott. The Malfoy's knows the Nott's. My mother is aware of the Bulstrode's, but she's never met them. Besides, if she doesn't know what Millicent looks like, she may think I'm trying to impress her by going over.
"Ah, they are purebloods, yes?" I almost want to die of hysterical laughter at that query but I simply smirk. We're discussing blood when she's been sexing up some Frenchman.
"One hundred percent."
Relief rushes over her, her face falling into a tight smile. "And how long will you be there for?"
"Oh, I don't know. I'm going Friday, but will be returning home that night. I don't have the desire to sleep over," I stress, making her blush fiercely. Good. "I suppose we will figure out the next meeting date upon arrival."
"Alright." she says. She hesitates for a moment, but continues. "Draco, I'll be up front with you. I'm going to France Friday, and I will be staying there for unfortunately most of the holiday."
What!
"Why?" I ask glumly. I've asked that far too many time in the past 20 minutes.
"I am meeting Jean's parents, and we're sorting out wedding details." I cringe. It's like she doused me in cold water till i'm ice and then threw me in an oven. I've never felt such hatred, sadness, and plain strong emotion like this before. Nothing has come close to this anguish.
"Why didn't you tell me about him sooner!" I lash, standing up. So, so angry!
"Draco, I tried. You know how I've been so very solemn this last year?" Oh, yes. Been crying like a little girl every night. I nod.
"It's because of the guilt. I felt guilty that I was having an affair. I was sad about Lucius, I still am, mind you. But, it's a time gone. When he returns nothing will be the same. I was scared to leave, but I want to be free. I need to be happy." she says with pleading eyes. " I need somebody who is more…morally upright. And at the same time has a good standing." Oh, of course, social importance is more vital to a relationship than loyalty.
"I need something new. You know, I started questioning my beliefs after that encounter with Harry Potter and his friends during Easter in our home." I stiffen. That's around the same time I started truly thinking about them too.
"I mean, who keeps children and an old man locked in a cellar? It's absolutely barbaric. It's one thing for me to dislike Mudbloods or blood traitors and not associate with them….but torture is another matter entirely. I refuse to speak to them because they do not interest me, I do not need their friendship or acquaintance. But what Bella did….to that Mudblood girl, I. It's just…." I squeeze my eyes shut not wanting to hear.
"I know, Mother." I say hoarsely. I move my hand to hers and squeeze it, reluctantly, but she's clearly distraught. For once in her life, Narcissa Malfoy is showing vulnerability. "I've been thinking too."
"And that is why you are better than your father, Draco. All these years, I've seen you try to become him and it scares me. I do not want you to be him. You had to try and kill a man because of him; to tear your soul away. He's not a good example, and I wished i'd seen it sooner. I wished for you to believe what we believe to be right, you didn't need to centre your life around him. I just want you to be happy. I apologize that it had to end up like this, me with another husband."
I exhale, and put my head in my hands. She's right. All I ever wanted was to be evil….but only because of Father. Of what he told me. I just wanted o impress him.
And I knew that finally this year I was in the wrong and tried to change it, but I'll still let Mother down no matter what.
How can I tell her I don't know who I am? How can I tell her that I like a Mudblood? Even if it is sexually.
But then, that isn't even true anymore. I like her fire. I like her skill, her wit. I want to make her surrender to me, but I dare not even try it. Only, it's inevitable. Spending time with someone helps you to know them...i'm afraid i'll like what I find out about Granger. Afraid i'll want her in ways I probably am never allowed to.
I don't want to shame my mother like my father did, but I don't believe her words after tonight. She's lost my respect.
How can she spout such, such, garbage to me about lesser bloods when we're really all the same. We all love, we all hurt, and we all feel hurt ourselves. Because of each other.
I yelled at people to make myself feel bigger, but the insults are never enough. The boasting is never enough. I never feel whole.
But it's all I've ever known. I'm so confused. How can I feel attraction to something that I'm supposed to hate? Actually genuinely liking somebody makes me feel hopeful, even when in my brain I know it to be a lost cause. If what Mother told me was true, then I'd still want her dead.
Who the hell am I, and who the hell is she?
She doesn't know who she is, she just admitted it. She said she questioned her beliefs.
"Mother, I know all those things. But…how can you say you want me to believe what you believe when what you believe is so similar to the man you've left. And when you've admitted to changing your mind about some of them? You felt sorry for a Mudblood, you said it! But all you've ever told me is that they're scum; or were you just repeating what father said? I don't even know what I want anymore, and neither do you. So don't tell me to be happy when you don't even know what happiness is yourself." She sits in stunned silence, as I turn to walk away.
"I'm going to go to sleep," I say hollow. I know I've hurt her, but somehow I don't care. She's a hypocrite.
"Draco?"
I start to exit the room, but her cry wounds me; "Draco!"
Without spinning to face her, I stand still saying: "I don't hate you, Mother. So don't hate me for saying what I think. I understand your reasons for what you're doing, but don't forget that Lucius Malfoy is and always will be my father…regardless of his actions."
I don't wait for a response as I make the trip that seems a thousand miles to my room.
When I reach it I slam the door shit and flop face first onto my bed. My suitcase is in view and I an idea pops into my head.
The pain of my parents steeps into my very skin, and I don't know if i'll ever feel the same again. I know I can leave after this school year, but somehow it doesn't matter. To know that i'll have another Father to please, and have the first one to comfort when he's the most unfeeling man, besides the Dark Lord, that I've ever known is daunting. How could she do this to him?To me.
Unfastening the top, I rifle through with one hand, still laying on my back, and retrieve what I was looking for. I pop off the cap and raise the bottle of heaven to my lips; I don't stop til every last drop is gone.