Disclaimer – I do not own Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings. This is a crossover; however, it will not be evident until later on how it is, as the Lord of the Rings stuff doesn't come in until later. But this is a parallel fanfic to Finding a Hero, telling Draco Malfoy's point of view. This can be read without reading the other fanfic, but the other fanfic will explain more later on. Apologies for the long note.


Draco's Dilemma

~Prolog~

The front entrance of Malfoy Manor was dim, the sun having to begun to set and the house elves having yet to light the bottom of the stairs, his chin cusped in the palm of his hands as he thought and gazed at the mess that surrounded him. Chandelier crystal crunched under the souls of his shoe as he moved his foot.

The reason that the house elves hadn't cleaned up the mess wasn't the same reason as for not lighting the lights, which was it wasn't time yet. No… something about it had filled them with such dread, that no matter what Lucius swore to do with them, they refused to clean up the mess. This uncharacteristic behavior of the House Elves could be attributed to the fact that it dealt with Dobey's death, something they couldn't help feeling.

Dobey was, how to put it, in Draco's mind, crazy. Even the house Elves at the manor had thought this about the ex-Malfoy House Elf. The only person who hadn't figured that he was crazy and actually felt it should be normal behavior was that Mudblood. However, from the stand point of the fact that she was Muggle born, her opinion of the whole matter was rather explainable, though Draco wouldn't admit it out loud.

What stood out about Dobey the most though, was that the House Elf had actually gained his freedom. Draco couldn't help but stifle a bit of jealousy over this, as he now had to admit, even he hadn't ever really had any freedom over the whole matter. His world consisted of such rules that were so rigid, that breaking them meant basically, ostracized. He had rather learned that the hard way.

Also, counting back, he couldn't think of any time really that his father, of all people had been proud of him, the last time having become long forgotten under the mess of the years. It was always first, or nothing else. Then there was his mother who couldn't help but let him know how much she loved him and was proud of him, to which Lucius blames Draco's lacks, though never in front of Narcissa for some reason.

His mother, who every pureblood now had mixed feelings about that is. At least those that had sided with Voldomort. It became obvious as soon as Potter rose up that it was very likely that she had lied to everyone about the Gryffindor being dead. For the life of Draco, he had yet to figure out, if his mother had done such a thing, why she would have risked prejudice coming her way.

Of course, he could understand where one Pansy Parkinson had been coming from, yet another Pure Blood shunned, this time for her actions pertaining to something she said at the school… something that irked on betraying all of Wizarding Society, not just Pure Bloods though. Which was why she tried getting into Draco's good graces again, finding that wasn't possible.

Lucius was still a major Pure Bloodest, but he also knew when to back down and take a back seat. It was better to regain face with the most of the Wizarding community rather then only some of it, leaving the bigot talks to the private dinner table. Draco now couldn't help but wonder if that was what all of it really was, bigotry. And being a bigot… that meant…

Draco didn't feel that he could regain face himself among the wizarding community. He knew that he was a coward, as only a coward would stoop to the levels of the Dark Lord, no matter what his opinions of others were. He had found quickly that the Dark Lord didn't care about human life one bit. He figured that if Voldomort had lived, that he would have been dead by now.

Everything he had once believed in needed to be rethought out. His mind blurred with the connotations of this, his vision and hearing suddenly blurring into nothingness as he let his tiredness and depression overwhelm him, or that is what he thought it was.


Author's note – I have a few chapters already written down in my notebook… have been there for a couple of months now.

6/4/09 - A special thanks goes to one Jane, and anon. reviewer for noticing that the title was mispelled on the on the summary part. And no, I am not going to remove ones review as I am very greatful to you. I just wish that I could have sent you a thank you reply, however, this will have to sufice.