Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition
Team: Kenmare Kestrels
Position: Captain
Prompt: Slytherin Friendship
Word Count: 1.045
"I don't remember the first time I met Vincent. He and Gregory are in all of my earliest memories. I remember running through the fields with him. I think this is the clearest memory of being so young. I don't remember why Gregory wasn't there—perhaps he was sick. But Vincent and I had escaped the manor. Just outside the wards, there used to be a huge field of wild grass. I convinced Vincent to go with me. We ran as fast as we could, and the grass was higher than our heads. I was afraid of getting lost, but Vincent took my hand and promised that he could see the way back to the manor. I don't remember what we did, or how long we were free before my father's face was looming above the grass. Vincent told my father it had been his idea. My father punished him.
When I was a young boy, I always assumed that they were my brothers. Sure, they had different parents, but the three of us were always together. That meant brothers. I always called them that. Never within my parents hearing, but that was because my parents insisted I call everyone by their names. No nicknames. I never noticed that the two didn't echo the sentiment back. I remember sitting in my bedroom with the two of them. We were playing with a potion's kit and the word came out. I didn't realize my father was behind me. I didn't see them for two weeks. My father decided I needed to learn about the Malfoy family and why I was not their brother. I learned the lesson. I learned never to call them brother again. And I didn't.
Once we were ten, I had created a wall between us. I didn't want my father to part me from them again. I don't know what their parents said to them, but Vincent and Gregory never acted like things had changed. And I guess for them, it hadn't. Once I received my letter, I was separated from them once again. For three months, I didn't see hide or hear of them, and I missed them desperately. But I had learned to keep that hidden from my face. It wasn't until years later that the boys confessed that the time was spent in lessons. Lessons on how to never best me, to protect me, and to report back on my every move.
In Hogwarts, everyone assumed they were my lackeys, or my minions. The Gryffindors called them that often enough. Gregory seemed content with this lot. But Vincent was often the one to lose his cool under these accusations. It was in third year that I finally made him confess. He hated the position his father forced him into. He hated that he had to stand behind me in so many things. I was a fool at that time. I grew angry with his words. I accused him of being a traitor. I think in many ways, that was when my friendship with him began to fracture.
The years passed, and Gregory was ever the solid rock. He was always nearby when Vincent would sulk quietly to himself. I think my friendship with Vincent would have completely vanished by fifth year if it weren't for Gregory's steadying words. He was always the calmest of the three of us. But somehow, that year our friendship began to mend. I know the Gryffindors would never call what we had a friendship, but it was as much of a friendship as we could show. At the end of the year, he confessed that after Hogwarts he wanted to escape from his father and the Death Eaters. That he wanted to study Herbology again. I urged him to do so.
Everything changed again the next year. I had… a task. I knew I wouldn't complete it. I knew that because of me someone was going to die. Either my parents. Or my friends. So I cut them off. For the Gryffindors and the eyes that watched us, Gregory and Vincent were still my constant companions. But behind closed doors, we were strangers. In the stress, I made a mistake. A mistake that ultimately caused Vincent his life. I told him he would never be good enough. That he would never be good enough to go where he wanted. To do what he wanted. Vincent snapped. His wand remained in his hand, but he told me. He said he would prove that he was more useful than a guard to a… well...to me. He would prove his use so that he would be allowed to do what he wanted. I accused him of settling. Gregory had to use his healing skills on us both. When I nearly died, Vincent mocked me in private. That summer, he was required to be by my side, but he never spoke to me. He never looked at me. I wonder if he spoke to Gregory. Maybe Gregory will forgive me enough to tell me one day.
I remember entering the room. And I remember his words. We were finished, my family and I. When I first heard the words, I thought that he was mocking me. I hated him so much in that moment. But then, I remember … I remember climbing the… and the fire was so close. He helped me climb. Vincent. He pushed me to the top. Gregory pulled me the rest of the way and I turned to… he was already… he told me to run. Told me that his father was in charge of making sure that my family didn't survive long after the battle. He was still trying to climb, but I remember his scream… Potter came not long after I lost sight of him."
Malfoy looked up at the empty room before him. He wiped the tears had escaped and looked around. No one had come to Vincent's funeral. Of course not. Who would come? Vincent's family was either dead or in Azkaban. Gregory hadn't spoken to him since after the battle. There was no one there to watch as Malfoy's mask broke and he finally let out of a sob. The sound echoed around the room. And no one cared.