Draco Malfoy Application
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luxatisDraco Malfoy
Basics
Name:
Nickname(s): None.
Age: 21
Birthdate: June 5th 1980
Blood Line: Pure
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Martial Status: Single
Former House & Years: Slytherin (1991 – 1997, no official graduation)
Occupation: Junior Undersecretary of Magical Games and Sports
Alliance During War: Death Eater, though he fled in the end
Wand:
18” , Elm, Dragon heartstringNickname(s): None.
Age: 21
Birthdate: June 5th 1980
Blood Line: Pure
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Martial Status: Single
Former House & Years: Slytherin (1991 – 1997, no official graduation)
Occupation: Junior Undersecretary of Magical Games and Sports
Alliance During War: Death Eater, though he fled in the end
Wand:
Appearance
Height: 5’11”
Weight: 180
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blond
Typical Attire: Always wears well pressed wizards robes when at work or in a obvious public setting, but when he’s alone or in a more private group he likes to wear muggle clothing. It’s a habit he’s recently picked up, and he’s found he really likes jeans and cotton t-shirts.
Distinguishing Features: White blond hair, sharp chin, quick eyes, large scar on his chest.
PB: Boyd Holbrook
Weight: 180
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Blond
Typical Attire: Always wears well pressed wizards robes when at work or in a obvious public setting, but when he’s alone or in a more private group he likes to wear muggle clothing. It’s a habit he’s recently picked up, and he’s found he really likes jeans and cotton t-shirts.
Distinguishing Features: White blond hair, sharp chin, quick eyes, large scar on his chest.
PB: Boyd Holbrook
Personality
Detailed Personality
STRENGTHS:
Resolve Draco finishes what he starts. Even if it takes him years, even if it might kill him. He gets it done. He has worked too hard and suffered to much to develop this trait to give it up now.
Cunning Draco is smart. He may not always seem like it, but he is. He can think in odd directions and around twisted corners and come up with conclusions that mightnot have occurred to anyone else.
Love It’s not an obvious thing with Draco, but when he loves he loves deeply and unconditionally. He lets very few people into his heart, and so the ones that make it there are cherished. He will do anything for those people, regardless of the cost.
Insight Draco knows how to read people. He can often see through to the heart of someone, and recognize the truth of them. Unfortunately he used this insight for many years to pick up peoples biggest fears and insecurities and exploit them for his own use.
WEAKNESSES:
Anger Draco cultivates anger the way other people cultivate gardens. He hoards it, treasuring it and clinging to it like it might give him something other than grief. He portions it out in tiny packets throughout his day, tightly controlled and regulated. He is never ruled by his anger, rather he uses it as fuel. If you were to take it from him there would be almost nothing left of him, just a young man who has never known how to function.
Pride Sometimes it seems like his pride is the only thing he has left. He has a name, and it used to mean something, and damned if he’s going to let it go.
Selfishness It’s very hard for Draco to see beyond himself. At one point in his life he didn’t even bother to try. He makes more of an effort now to put others first, but it doesn’t come naturally and his attempts often fall short.
Cowardess Draco is a coward. He doesn’t want to be, but he is. Not just with pain, but with every day interactions. He never does anything that can be easily traced back to him, out of fear of retaliation.
Draco was raised to privilege, and for many years he used this fact to behave any way he wanted. He was spoiled, and haughty, and condescending to anyone he deemed ‘lesser’. Which, honestly, was almost everyone. He was used to getting anything he wanted, and expected the world to basically be handed to him. He was too smart for his own good, and could read people a little too well. It was easy for him to see into the heart of things, and to manipulate the fears and insecurities of those around him. His natural charisma and cruelty made him a leader of sorts, attracting all the wrong kinds of people.
But time changes everyone, even spoiled brats. The events of the War taught Draco many things, humility among them. He is no longer the arrogant, spiteful bully that he once was. No, now he is a desperate, angry, strangely hopeful young man. He can still be incredibly rude, but he has lost a lot of his racism and does really try to keep his tongue under control. He regrets much of what he did, and is attempting to make up for it by living a quiet life.
It is hard to have to come to terms with your own place in the story, especially when the place you occupy has the word ‘villain’ written above it. Draco lives a life that is partially denial and partially desperation. He wants to change, he wants to be better, but he also doesn’t want to admit that everything he did was so terrible. He has bursts of almost insane remorse where he goes on ‘do-gooding’ sprees in an attempt to erase his crimes of the past. Other times he wants to lock himself away from the world and all the judgement and curses everyone who destroyed his family this way. Of course, when he realizes that his family essentially destroyed itself it triggers a state of depression and deep self-loathing. Because in the end no one can hate Draco more than he hates himself.
First Impression: Draco comes across as aloof and withdrawn. He doesn’t make the first move, he doesn’t make eye contact, and he won’t say hello. However, when forced, he can be the most charming bastard you’ve ever met.
Likes: Boysenberry jam, rain, clean socks, mince tarts, muggle music, parks
Dislikes: disorder, bent quills, tapioca, formal functions, raisins
Boggart: the Dark Lord
Mirror of Erised:
Himself and his family, unsullied by any intrigue and untouched by war.STRENGTHS:
Resolve Draco finishes what he starts. Even if it takes him years, even if it might kill him. He gets it done. He has worked too hard and suffered to much to develop this trait to give it up now.
Cunning Draco is smart. He may not always seem like it, but he is. He can think in odd directions and around twisted corners and come up with conclusions that mightnot have occurred to anyone else.
Love It’s not an obvious thing with Draco, but when he loves he loves deeply and unconditionally. He lets very few people into his heart, and so the ones that make it there are cherished. He will do anything for those people, regardless of the cost.
Insight Draco knows how to read people. He can often see through to the heart of someone, and recognize the truth of them. Unfortunately he used this insight for many years to pick up peoples biggest fears and insecurities and exploit them for his own use.
WEAKNESSES:
Anger Draco cultivates anger the way other people cultivate gardens. He hoards it, treasuring it and clinging to it like it might give him something other than grief. He portions it out in tiny packets throughout his day, tightly controlled and regulated. He is never ruled by his anger, rather he uses it as fuel. If you were to take it from him there would be almost nothing left of him, just a young man who has never known how to function.
Pride Sometimes it seems like his pride is the only thing he has left. He has a name, and it used to mean something, and damned if he’s going to let it go.
Selfishness It’s very hard for Draco to see beyond himself. At one point in his life he didn’t even bother to try. He makes more of an effort now to put others first, but it doesn’t come naturally and his attempts often fall short.
Cowardess Draco is a coward. He doesn’t want to be, but he is. Not just with pain, but with every day interactions. He never does anything that can be easily traced back to him, out of fear of retaliation.
Draco was raised to privilege, and for many years he used this fact to behave any way he wanted. He was spoiled, and haughty, and condescending to anyone he deemed ‘lesser’. Which, honestly, was almost everyone. He was used to getting anything he wanted, and expected the world to basically be handed to him. He was too smart for his own good, and could read people a little too well. It was easy for him to see into the heart of things, and to manipulate the fears and insecurities of those around him. His natural charisma and cruelty made him a leader of sorts, attracting all the wrong kinds of people.
But time changes everyone, even spoiled brats. The events of the War taught Draco many things, humility among them. He is no longer the arrogant, spiteful bully that he once was. No, now he is a desperate, angry, strangely hopeful young man. He can still be incredibly rude, but he has lost a lot of his racism and does really try to keep his tongue under control. He regrets much of what he did, and is attempting to make up for it by living a quiet life.
It is hard to have to come to terms with your own place in the story, especially when the place you occupy has the word ‘villain’ written above it. Draco lives a life that is partially denial and partially desperation. He wants to change, he wants to be better, but he also doesn’t want to admit that everything he did was so terrible. He has bursts of almost insane remorse where he goes on ‘do-gooding’ sprees in an attempt to erase his crimes of the past. Other times he wants to lock himself away from the world and all the judgement and curses everyone who destroyed his family this way. Of course, when he realizes that his family essentially destroyed itself it triggers a state of depression and deep self-loathing. Because in the end no one can hate Draco more than he hates himself.
First Impression: Draco comes across as aloof and withdrawn. He doesn’t make the first move, he doesn’t make eye contact, and he won’t say hello. However, when forced, he can be the most charming bastard you’ve ever met.
Likes: Boysenberry jam, rain, clean socks, mince tarts, muggle music, parks
Dislikes: disorder, bent quills, tapioca, formal functions, raisins
Boggart: the Dark Lord
Mirror of Erised:
History
Father: Lucius Malfor, Pure
Mother: Narcissa Malfoy, Pure
Siblings: None
Children: None
Pets: An owl named Owl
Detailed History:
Childhood
The Malfoy family is as old as time, or so they like to claim. With blood that can be traced back to Merlin himself they are practically Wizarding Royalty.
Lucius, the head of the current Malfoy house, always knew his place in the world. He was born to marry a pureblood girl, have an heir, and subtly nudge the world in the direction the Malfoys wanted it to go. The first two deeds were accomplished easily. Narcissa Black was the perfect bride, and their first child was a son. An heir. Draco. Once he was born it was obvious the Malfoy’s didn’t need another child, and so they never tried again.
Draco was raised like a prince. All the finest things in life were handed to him, his every whim was realized, and his mother doted on him. He learned early that a Malfoy never asked for anything. They ordered, they demanded, they expected, but they never asked.
He had few friends growing up, but he had many lackeys. His mother made sure that all of the pure-blood children spent time with him, and he took delight in ordering them around. The only family older and more prestigious than the Malfoy’s were the Blacks, and Draco was both. He ruled by right, and anyone who didn’t fall in line would feel the wrath of his father.
Hogwarts
Draco was ready when his Hogwarts letter arrived. He was sorted into Slytherin, of course, and he quickly ruled the dungeons. Or, at least, his class and the parts of the dungeons not already claimed by the older kids. He was quite prepared to be the pampered little prince and bask in his teachers love and approval. After all, every other adult he had ever met bent over backward to serve and please him.
But he soon learned that there was another student that everyone loved, a student that everyone loved more than him.
Harry Potter.
The golden child, the Boy Who Lived, everyone’s little darling. A boy who had already rebuffed Draco’s friendship, a boy who spent time with blood traitors and mud bloods. A boy who got away with everything.
Draco hated him.
He tightened his hold on his Slytherin cronies, knowing that if the rest of the school fell in line they could ostracize Potter. But try as he might none of the other houses worshiped him the way he deserved. Didn’t they know who he was? He was Draco Malfoy, heir to the houses of Malfoy and Black, the oldest Pureblood families! And he knew who to blame. It was Potter. Everything that ever went wrong for him was Potters fault.
He tried to explain this to his father, that it wasn’t his fault everyone loved Harry Stupid Potter, but he wouldn’t listen. And so Draco swore that the rest of his time at Hogwarts would be spent bringing Potter the justice he deserved. Once everyone saw what a loser he was they would realize that Draco was supposed to be in charge of them, and fall dutifully in line.
There was a time in second year when he was sure it was finally happening. The Chamber of Secrets was open, and everyone blamed Potter for it. As if that idiot could be heir of Slytherin. He didn’t have an ounce of Slytherin in him! Draco wished he knew who was doing it, so he could help them. But in the end Harry Stupid Potter and his mudblood army saved the day, and everyone loved him again. It was enough to drive him crazy!
But rumors were starting, rumors that the Dark Lord may return. His father wouldn’t tell him anything, but Draco knew it was important. The Dark Lord would make everything right again, would get rid of Stupid Potter, and the mudbloods and bloodtraitors and everyone else. All they really had to do was wait.
A few short years later and he was back. Draco’s father was welcomed back into the fold, and Draco knew everything was going to be alright. The Dark Lord would save them from this stinking world where nothing went the way it was supposed to. But they didn’t do anything. The Dark Lord took over Malfoy Manor, and suddenly Draco found he wasn’t even welcome in his own home. The Dark Lord had no interest in him. Draco had always expected the Dark Lord to love him, to mentor him and groom him for command. Instead he spent the summer outdoors, waiting for someone to notice him.
The school year, however, seemed much more promising. Draco was made a prefect, and best of all, Dolores Umbrigde was hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. And unlike every other Professor, the Dark Lord, and even his father, Umbridge adored him. She took him under her wing, gave him power, and trusted him to mold the school into the right shape. Draco admired her, and used his new found power to punish the people who never recognized him and his influence before. The Inquisitorial Squad was a dream come true.
But again Harry Potter ruined everything.
Lucius Malfoy went to jail, and everything fell apart. It didn’t make sense. His father was a Malfoy! He couldn’t just be thrown into jail like a regular person! But he was, and Draco found himself the head of a disgraced house.
And then the Dark Lord called him.
Draco had been wanting this for years, had wanted the Dark Lords approval, but the reality was nothing like his dreams. Getting the mark hurt, and it often ached and stabbed at him long after the spell was performed. He sat at the table with the other Death Eaters now, but none of them respected him. They were all so tall, and so frightening, and the Dark Lord wasn’t the benevolent master Draco had expected. He was hard, and he didn’t care about Draco at all. The Dark Lord made it very clear that he was including Draco in his father’s disgrace, and if he didn’t want to lose everything he had to walk a very careful line.
The first step was to start a relationship with Pansy Parkinson. She was a pureblood girl of a strong house and an alliance between the Parkinsons and the Malfoys was a smart, strategic move. It also helped that she was pretty, and everyone expected it of them. One thing Draco hadn’t expected was how much he liked her. He had known her well enough at school, but spending real, intimate time with her brought out many of the qualities he’d failed to see before. She was smart, and loyal, and knew how to keep a secret. What started as a political move quickly became one of the only things in his life that wasn’t threatening to drag him under. Pansy was a refuge, and for that he would always be grateful to her.
Then one day the Dark Lord called him in for a secret meeting, and his world crumbled beneath him. Because the Dark Lord had a task for him, an impossible, insane, unbelievable task. Kill Albus Dumbledore.
It was crazy. How was he supposed to kill the greatest wizard who ever lived! After the Dark Lord, of course. At least, Draco knew he was supposed to think that. But it was hard, Dumbledore may be an old idiot but Draco knew better than to underestimate him. He spent the rest of the summer planning, and a few short weeks before term began Draco knew what he had to do.
He went into Knockturn Alley and bought the vanishing cabinet. He got information on how to repair it, and he went into his Sixth year with a little more confidence than he’d felt in the weeks leading up to it. But repairing the cabinet proved to be more difficult than he imagined. He began to despair that he’d ever do it. And if he failed in this mission, who knew what the Dark Lord would do. Kill them all, most likely. Send green light into his mother’s chest and leave her body lying on the Manor floor forever as a warning to others. Turn his father to stone and set him at the drawing room doors. Torture Draco himself into insanity, leaving him a pitiful drooling mess like Longbottom’s parents. And Pansy, who had nothing to do with this, even she might not be spared. He almost left her a dozen times, terrified of what the Dark Lord could do, but in the end he always backed out. He pretended it was to keep up appearances, but really it was because he couldn’t face this job without her. But he also didn’t dare to confide the details of his task to her.
He began perfecting his skills, dropping everything that didn’t help him with the task. His aunt Bellatrix had helped him learn Occlumency, and perfected the Protean charm. And every spare moment was spent working on the cabinet. But he couldn’t fix it. It didn’t matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fix it. In desperation he tried sending Dumbledore a cursed necklace, and poisoning the wine that was meant for him. But they were feeble attempts, and they failed miserably. And Potter was always sniffing at his heels, always standing around every corner. So now in addition to this impossible task he had to keep Potter off his tail. And Professor Snape was just as bad. He just didn’t understand.
There was only one person he could confide in, one person who didn’t judge him and who still believed in him and wouldn’t be put at risk by him. Myrtle knew what it was like. She understood him. He found himself spending more than one night sobbing in her empty bathroom. But then one day Potter found him there, and cursed him, and cost him nearly five days of work while he recovered.
But one day, one glorious, magical day, the cabinet worked. The passage was open. He could finally fulfill his mission. So he called the other Death Eaters, and they snuck into the school. While they fought the teachers and the students Draco raced up to the Astronomy Tower to kill Dumbledore. He knew what he had to do, he was ready, he was strong. He disarmed the Headmaster. But as he stood there, staring at him, Draco realized something horrible. He couldn’t do it. His whole life had been leading up to this moment, but he couldn’t do it. He just stood there, stupidly, listening to the man he was supposed to kill. Letting his wand waver. He was going to fail after all, and his family would pay the price. But then Professor Snape was there, screaming the curse, and Dumbledore’s body was tumbling to the ground.
Draco ran, following his Professor with blind faith and tears in his eyes. He had failed his mission, he had failed the Dark Lord, but that wasn’t why he was crying. Dumbledore was dead. Dumbledore was dead, and Draco was supposed to be happy, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t, Merlin he wasn’t. And it didn’t make sense, and it wasn’t supposed to hurt like this, and he didn’t know what to do. Potter was following them, Draco could hear him, but he didn’t stop running. He didn’t know if he would ever stop running again.
He was a criminal now, wanted by the Ministry. There was only one place he could go. Though he feared the Dark Lord now almost as much as anything else. But the Dark Lord didn’t kill him. He was allowed to remain a Death Eater and serve his master. The Dark Lord was finally done hiding, and the world was being rebuilt to his standards. It was what the Malfoy’s had always wanted, what Draco had always wanted. He was supposed to be happy. No, he was happy. But at night, when Draco allowed himself to think, tiny seeds of doubt began to creep in. This world they were creating wasn’t the glorious utopia Draco had thought it would be. It was dark, and ugly, and terrifying. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore, but he knew it wasn’t this.
Now that he was a full Death Eater Draco was not allowed to return to Hogwarts. Instead he helped his father in whatever task he was given. He saw things, and did things, that he will never be able to justify. But it was for his Lord, and so he had no choice. He had never had any choices. When the battered boy and his friends had been dragged into the Manor Draco knew who they were at once. Of course he did. He’d hated them for years. But as he opened his mouth to condemn them, he found he couldn’t do it. It was Dumbledore all over again, and Draco just didn’t understand. He hated Potter, he wanted to see him suffer, but he’d also seen what the Dark Lord did to people. He hesitated, but in the end did what he had to. Though secretly, very very secretly, he was glad when they escaped. Even though it cost him his wand.
After Potter escaped the Malfoys were even more disgraced that before. They were put under house arrest and the Dark Lord turned his back on them. And it was wonderful. For the first time in years Draco felt free. He read, and spent time with his mother, and worked on charms with his Aunt Bellatrix. The Dark Lord didn’t care about them anymore, so there were no more missions and no more murders. He knew it was supposed to be a punishment, but Draco didn’t see it that way. It was a reprieve. And Draco could have been happy that way forever, if it wasn’t for his father. Lucius took the fall from grace terribly hard. He withdrew, becoming silent and angry. The only times he spoke to his son he begged him to save them, to make the Dark Lord look at them again. So when the summons came about a battle at Hogwarts Draco went. Because his father wanted it so badly.
He knew there was one way to get the Dark Lord to favor his father again, and that was to bring him Potter. He fought his way into the castle and found Crabbe and Goyle. Together they traced Potter to the Room of Requirement. But his fall from grace meant that his friends didn’t fear him the way they once had, and Crabbe disobeyed him and set the room on fire. Draco was sure that was the end of him, of them, of everything. And even as the thought terrified him, it was also strangely liberating. It was all finally going to be over. But then he heard the screams of his friends, and all thoughts of an easy death went out the window. He couldn’t let Crabbe and Goyle die, even if it was their own stupidity that had landed them here.
He tried to help them, but the fire was out of control, and Draco didn’t think he could do anything to save them. What he hadn’t counted on, what he had honestly never expected, was that Potter would risk himself and his best friends to save his enemies. They made it out, barely, but Crabbe did not. It was horrifying, listening to him scream. After that Draco knew he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t fight, he couldn’t hurt anyone else. So he ran. He knew that if he could just make it out of the castle… But Walden caught him, and for the second time that night Draco was sure he was going to die. And for the second time Potter saved him. It was baffling, and frustrating, and insane. Draco had no idea how to handle it.
Aftermath
In the end it didn’t matter. Voldemort was destroyed, Potter was the hero, and Draco and his family barely managed to escape Azkaban. They slunk home and tried their best to pretend none of this had ever happened. Narcissa went about cleaning all traces of the Death Eaters out of their home, and Draco helped her as best as he could. Lucius fell into a deep depression, and refused to leave his room. For the first few months Draco waited with bated breath for the other shoe to drop. Surely it wasn’t all going to go away this easily? But it began to look like it would. There were no more battles, no more missions, no more dark lords. Draco knew he should be happy. He wasn’t.
The worst part was that he couldn’t even explain it to himself. He didn’t want tobe a Death Eater anymore, he didn’t want to follow anyone’s orders ever again, but knowing that didn’t lessen the emptiness he felt. He pulled away from everyone, former friends, even Pansy, in an attempt to distance himself from his old life. He moved out of the manor as soon as he possibly could, despite the fact that his mother all but begged him to stay. He knew she needed him, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her, and knowing his father was a half-mindless mess made the decision easy. He walked out, and he didn’t look back.
Now
His moderate success as a quidditch player and decent OWLS allowed him to find a very minor position in the department of magical sports and games. Everyone in the ministry looked at him with thinly veiled hostility and distrust, but it was Harry Potter that kept him from being completely ostracised. They weren’t friends, not really, but they treated each other with a civil respect that all but forced the others to emulate it. After all, if the Sainted Potter didn’t hate him clearly no one else was allowed to.
Draco found that by keeping his nose down and staying out of everyone’s way made his life much easier, so that’s what he did. He made no waves, took no risks. He was just another mindless worker, clocking his 9-5. Every time the subject of Death Eaters and the War came up he made himself conspicuously absent. It made his blood boil. He used to be the most important person in Wizarding Brittan, and now he was no one. It also made him sad, because he knew he didn’t even deserve this much. He deserved to be locked away in Azkaban for his crimes, not pushing pencils in the Ministry.
In his free time he studied muggles. It had started by accident, one afternoon the accusing stares and loneliness had driven him out into muggle London to escape. It was like a breath of fresh air, no one here had any idea who he was or what he’d done. He ate in café’s, chatted up pretty waitresses, listened to dirty men play guitars on the side of the street. It was utterly liberating, and Draco found himself spending more and more time there. He bought new clothing so he wouldn’t stand out, he found a few bars that he liked, he explored parks and libraries and computer stores. It was a revelation, muggles really weren’t that different after all. It was a rebellion, because wouldn’t his father scream if he ever found out. And it was a secret, because even now Draco hates to admit that everything he’s ever known about the way the world works is a lie.
Mother: Narcissa Malfoy, Pure
Siblings: None
Children: None
Pets: An owl named Owl
Detailed History:
Childhood
The Malfoy family is as old as time, or so they like to claim. With blood that can be traced back to Merlin himself they are practically Wizarding Royalty.
Lucius, the head of the current Malfoy house, always knew his place in the world. He was born to marry a pureblood girl, have an heir, and subtly nudge the world in the direction the Malfoys wanted it to go. The first two deeds were accomplished easily. Narcissa Black was the perfect bride, and their first child was a son. An heir. Draco. Once he was born it was obvious the Malfoy’s didn’t need another child, and so they never tried again.
Draco was raised like a prince. All the finest things in life were handed to him, his every whim was realized, and his mother doted on him. He learned early that a Malfoy never asked for anything. They ordered, they demanded, they expected, but they never asked.
He had few friends growing up, but he had many lackeys. His mother made sure that all of the pure-blood children spent time with him, and he took delight in ordering them around. The only family older and more prestigious than the Malfoy’s were the Blacks, and Draco was both. He ruled by right, and anyone who didn’t fall in line would feel the wrath of his father.
Hogwarts
Draco was ready when his Hogwarts letter arrived. He was sorted into Slytherin, of course, and he quickly ruled the dungeons. Or, at least, his class and the parts of the dungeons not already claimed by the older kids. He was quite prepared to be the pampered little prince and bask in his teachers love and approval. After all, every other adult he had ever met bent over backward to serve and please him.
But he soon learned that there was another student that everyone loved, a student that everyone loved more than him.
Harry Potter.
The golden child, the Boy Who Lived, everyone’s little darling. A boy who had already rebuffed Draco’s friendship, a boy who spent time with blood traitors and mud bloods. A boy who got away with everything.
Draco hated him.
He tightened his hold on his Slytherin cronies, knowing that if the rest of the school fell in line they could ostracize Potter. But try as he might none of the other houses worshiped him the way he deserved. Didn’t they know who he was? He was Draco Malfoy, heir to the houses of Malfoy and Black, the oldest Pureblood families! And he knew who to blame. It was Potter. Everything that ever went wrong for him was Potters fault.
He tried to explain this to his father, that it wasn’t his fault everyone loved Harry Stupid Potter, but he wouldn’t listen. And so Draco swore that the rest of his time at Hogwarts would be spent bringing Potter the justice he deserved. Once everyone saw what a loser he was they would realize that Draco was supposed to be in charge of them, and fall dutifully in line.
There was a time in second year when he was sure it was finally happening. The Chamber of Secrets was open, and everyone blamed Potter for it. As if that idiot could be heir of Slytherin. He didn’t have an ounce of Slytherin in him! Draco wished he knew who was doing it, so he could help them. But in the end Harry Stupid Potter and his mudblood army saved the day, and everyone loved him again. It was enough to drive him crazy!
But rumors were starting, rumors that the Dark Lord may return. His father wouldn’t tell him anything, but Draco knew it was important. The Dark Lord would make everything right again, would get rid of Stupid Potter, and the mudbloods and bloodtraitors and everyone else. All they really had to do was wait.
A few short years later and he was back. Draco’s father was welcomed back into the fold, and Draco knew everything was going to be alright. The Dark Lord would save them from this stinking world where nothing went the way it was supposed to. But they didn’t do anything. The Dark Lord took over Malfoy Manor, and suddenly Draco found he wasn’t even welcome in his own home. The Dark Lord had no interest in him. Draco had always expected the Dark Lord to love him, to mentor him and groom him for command. Instead he spent the summer outdoors, waiting for someone to notice him.
The school year, however, seemed much more promising. Draco was made a prefect, and best of all, Dolores Umbrigde was hired to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. And unlike every other Professor, the Dark Lord, and even his father, Umbridge adored him. She took him under her wing, gave him power, and trusted him to mold the school into the right shape. Draco admired her, and used his new found power to punish the people who never recognized him and his influence before. The Inquisitorial Squad was a dream come true.
But again Harry Potter ruined everything.
Lucius Malfoy went to jail, and everything fell apart. It didn’t make sense. His father was a Malfoy! He couldn’t just be thrown into jail like a regular person! But he was, and Draco found himself the head of a disgraced house.
And then the Dark Lord called him.
Draco had been wanting this for years, had wanted the Dark Lords approval, but the reality was nothing like his dreams. Getting the mark hurt, and it often ached and stabbed at him long after the spell was performed. He sat at the table with the other Death Eaters now, but none of them respected him. They were all so tall, and so frightening, and the Dark Lord wasn’t the benevolent master Draco had expected. He was hard, and he didn’t care about Draco at all. The Dark Lord made it very clear that he was including Draco in his father’s disgrace, and if he didn’t want to lose everything he had to walk a very careful line.
The first step was to start a relationship with Pansy Parkinson. She was a pureblood girl of a strong house and an alliance between the Parkinsons and the Malfoys was a smart, strategic move. It also helped that she was pretty, and everyone expected it of them. One thing Draco hadn’t expected was how much he liked her. He had known her well enough at school, but spending real, intimate time with her brought out many of the qualities he’d failed to see before. She was smart, and loyal, and knew how to keep a secret. What started as a political move quickly became one of the only things in his life that wasn’t threatening to drag him under. Pansy was a refuge, and for that he would always be grateful to her.
Then one day the Dark Lord called him in for a secret meeting, and his world crumbled beneath him. Because the Dark Lord had a task for him, an impossible, insane, unbelievable task. Kill Albus Dumbledore.
It was crazy. How was he supposed to kill the greatest wizard who ever lived! After the Dark Lord, of course. At least, Draco knew he was supposed to think that. But it was hard, Dumbledore may be an old idiot but Draco knew better than to underestimate him. He spent the rest of the summer planning, and a few short weeks before term began Draco knew what he had to do.
He went into Knockturn Alley and bought the vanishing cabinet. He got information on how to repair it, and he went into his Sixth year with a little more confidence than he’d felt in the weeks leading up to it. But repairing the cabinet proved to be more difficult than he imagined. He began to despair that he’d ever do it. And if he failed in this mission, who knew what the Dark Lord would do. Kill them all, most likely. Send green light into his mother’s chest and leave her body lying on the Manor floor forever as a warning to others. Turn his father to stone and set him at the drawing room doors. Torture Draco himself into insanity, leaving him a pitiful drooling mess like Longbottom’s parents. And Pansy, who had nothing to do with this, even she might not be spared. He almost left her a dozen times, terrified of what the Dark Lord could do, but in the end he always backed out. He pretended it was to keep up appearances, but really it was because he couldn’t face this job without her. But he also didn’t dare to confide the details of his task to her.
He began perfecting his skills, dropping everything that didn’t help him with the task. His aunt Bellatrix had helped him learn Occlumency, and perfected the Protean charm. And every spare moment was spent working on the cabinet. But he couldn’t fix it. It didn’t matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t fix it. In desperation he tried sending Dumbledore a cursed necklace, and poisoning the wine that was meant for him. But they were feeble attempts, and they failed miserably. And Potter was always sniffing at his heels, always standing around every corner. So now in addition to this impossible task he had to keep Potter off his tail. And Professor Snape was just as bad. He just didn’t understand.
There was only one person he could confide in, one person who didn’t judge him and who still believed in him and wouldn’t be put at risk by him. Myrtle knew what it was like. She understood him. He found himself spending more than one night sobbing in her empty bathroom. But then one day Potter found him there, and cursed him, and cost him nearly five days of work while he recovered.
But one day, one glorious, magical day, the cabinet worked. The passage was open. He could finally fulfill his mission. So he called the other Death Eaters, and they snuck into the school. While they fought the teachers and the students Draco raced up to the Astronomy Tower to kill Dumbledore. He knew what he had to do, he was ready, he was strong. He disarmed the Headmaster. But as he stood there, staring at him, Draco realized something horrible. He couldn’t do it. His whole life had been leading up to this moment, but he couldn’t do it. He just stood there, stupidly, listening to the man he was supposed to kill. Letting his wand waver. He was going to fail after all, and his family would pay the price. But then Professor Snape was there, screaming the curse, and Dumbledore’s body was tumbling to the ground.
Draco ran, following his Professor with blind faith and tears in his eyes. He had failed his mission, he had failed the Dark Lord, but that wasn’t why he was crying. Dumbledore was dead. Dumbledore was dead, and Draco was supposed to be happy, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t, Merlin he wasn’t. And it didn’t make sense, and it wasn’t supposed to hurt like this, and he didn’t know what to do. Potter was following them, Draco could hear him, but he didn’t stop running. He didn’t know if he would ever stop running again.
He was a criminal now, wanted by the Ministry. There was only one place he could go. Though he feared the Dark Lord now almost as much as anything else. But the Dark Lord didn’t kill him. He was allowed to remain a Death Eater and serve his master. The Dark Lord was finally done hiding, and the world was being rebuilt to his standards. It was what the Malfoy’s had always wanted, what Draco had always wanted. He was supposed to be happy. No, he was happy. But at night, when Draco allowed himself to think, tiny seeds of doubt began to creep in. This world they were creating wasn’t the glorious utopia Draco had thought it would be. It was dark, and ugly, and terrifying. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore, but he knew it wasn’t this.
Now that he was a full Death Eater Draco was not allowed to return to Hogwarts. Instead he helped his father in whatever task he was given. He saw things, and did things, that he will never be able to justify. But it was for his Lord, and so he had no choice. He had never had any choices. When the battered boy and his friends had been dragged into the Manor Draco knew who they were at once. Of course he did. He’d hated them for years. But as he opened his mouth to condemn them, he found he couldn’t do it. It was Dumbledore all over again, and Draco just didn’t understand. He hated Potter, he wanted to see him suffer, but he’d also seen what the Dark Lord did to people. He hesitated, but in the end did what he had to. Though secretly, very very secretly, he was glad when they escaped. Even though it cost him his wand.
After Potter escaped the Malfoys were even more disgraced that before. They were put under house arrest and the Dark Lord turned his back on them. And it was wonderful. For the first time in years Draco felt free. He read, and spent time with his mother, and worked on charms with his Aunt Bellatrix. The Dark Lord didn’t care about them anymore, so there were no more missions and no more murders. He knew it was supposed to be a punishment, but Draco didn’t see it that way. It was a reprieve. And Draco could have been happy that way forever, if it wasn’t for his father. Lucius took the fall from grace terribly hard. He withdrew, becoming silent and angry. The only times he spoke to his son he begged him to save them, to make the Dark Lord look at them again. So when the summons came about a battle at Hogwarts Draco went. Because his father wanted it so badly.
He knew there was one way to get the Dark Lord to favor his father again, and that was to bring him Potter. He fought his way into the castle and found Crabbe and Goyle. Together they traced Potter to the Room of Requirement. But his fall from grace meant that his friends didn’t fear him the way they once had, and Crabbe disobeyed him and set the room on fire. Draco was sure that was the end of him, of them, of everything. And even as the thought terrified him, it was also strangely liberating. It was all finally going to be over. But then he heard the screams of his friends, and all thoughts of an easy death went out the window. He couldn’t let Crabbe and Goyle die, even if it was their own stupidity that had landed them here.
He tried to help them, but the fire was out of control, and Draco didn’t think he could do anything to save them. What he hadn’t counted on, what he had honestly never expected, was that Potter would risk himself and his best friends to save his enemies. They made it out, barely, but Crabbe did not. It was horrifying, listening to him scream. After that Draco knew he couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t fight, he couldn’t hurt anyone else. So he ran. He knew that if he could just make it out of the castle… But Walden caught him, and for the second time that night Draco was sure he was going to die. And for the second time Potter saved him. It was baffling, and frustrating, and insane. Draco had no idea how to handle it.
Aftermath
In the end it didn’t matter. Voldemort was destroyed, Potter was the hero, and Draco and his family barely managed to escape Azkaban. They slunk home and tried their best to pretend none of this had ever happened. Narcissa went about cleaning all traces of the Death Eaters out of their home, and Draco helped her as best as he could. Lucius fell into a deep depression, and refused to leave his room. For the first few months Draco waited with bated breath for the other shoe to drop. Surely it wasn’t all going to go away this easily? But it began to look like it would. There were no more battles, no more missions, no more dark lords. Draco knew he should be happy. He wasn’t.
The worst part was that he couldn’t even explain it to himself. He didn’t want tobe a Death Eater anymore, he didn’t want to follow anyone’s orders ever again, but knowing that didn’t lessen the emptiness he felt. He pulled away from everyone, former friends, even Pansy, in an attempt to distance himself from his old life. He moved out of the manor as soon as he possibly could, despite the fact that his mother all but begged him to stay. He knew she needed him, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t bear to look at her, and knowing his father was a half-mindless mess made the decision easy. He walked out, and he didn’t look back.
Now
His moderate success as a quidditch player and decent OWLS allowed him to find a very minor position in the department of magical sports and games. Everyone in the ministry looked at him with thinly veiled hostility and distrust, but it was Harry Potter that kept him from being completely ostracised. They weren’t friends, not really, but they treated each other with a civil respect that all but forced the others to emulate it. After all, if the Sainted Potter didn’t hate him clearly no one else was allowed to.
Draco found that by keeping his nose down and staying out of everyone’s way made his life much easier, so that’s what he did. He made no waves, took no risks. He was just another mindless worker, clocking his 9-5. Every time the subject of Death Eaters and the War came up he made himself conspicuously absent. It made his blood boil. He used to be the most important person in Wizarding Brittan, and now he was no one. It also made him sad, because he knew he didn’t even deserve this much. He deserved to be locked away in Azkaban for his crimes, not pushing pencils in the Ministry.
In his free time he studied muggles. It had started by accident, one afternoon the accusing stares and loneliness had driven him out into muggle London to escape. It was like a breath of fresh air, no one here had any idea who he was or what he’d done. He ate in café’s, chatted up pretty waitresses, listened to dirty men play guitars on the side of the street. It was utterly liberating, and Draco found himself spending more and more time there. He bought new clothing so he wouldn’t stand out, he found a few bars that he liked, he explored parks and libraries and computer stores. It was a revelation, muggles really weren’t that different after all. It was a rebellion, because wouldn’t his father scream if he ever found out. And it was a secret, because even now Draco hates to admit that everything he’s ever known about the way the world works is a lie.
OOC
Name/Alias:
Age: 26
Email: sasha.bms@gmail.com
AIM:
Timezone:
PSTAge: 26
Email: sasha.bms@gmail.com
AIM:
Timezone:
Samples
First Person/Journal:
http://users.insanejournal.com/_draconis/569.html
Third Person/Thread:
As Draco:
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/afortic/3724.html
As Sirius Black:
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/the_recruitment/3779.html
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/the_recruitment/7951.html
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/the_recruitment/15783.html
As Rabastan Lestrange:
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/the_recruitment/14991.html#cutid1
http://users.insanejournal.com/_draconis/569.html
Third Person/Thread:
As Draco:
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/afortic/3724.html
As Sirius Black:
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/the_recruitment/3779.html
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/the_recruitment/7951.html
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/the_recruitment/15783.html
As Rabastan Lestrange:
http://asylums.insanejournal.com/the_recruitment/14991.html#cutid1
