Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his universe aren't mine. Never has been – never will be. I don't make any money off of this. Please don't sue me for playing in it.
Summary: Draco Malfoy is having second thoughts about his future as a Death Eater… Will he do the right thing for all the wrong reasons? *Completed*
Archive: Ask me. I'll probably say yes.
A/N: When I first started reading Draco fics I observed something very interesting. Every author seemed to write his character very differently. Ranging from naughty to nice, to even suicidal. Its like no one could decide what Draco would be like when he was older or how he got there. Especially the 'How he got there?' part. That's when I thought "Draco Malfoy is truly evil… or is he?" before I knew it I was writing this poem. This is my little insight into the mind of Draco Malfoy… Hope you enjoy it. Please R & R!
On the surface life seems great. Voldemort has returned, and with the Dementors on our side, we'll defeat Dumbledore in no time. I sigh as this thought passes through my head and I sit up in bed. It feels like my private dreams within have been damned, a Dementors kiss placed on its lips.
For the longest time, my family hoped and prayed this day would come. The so-called good are in shambles and Voldemort lives. But this thought does not comfort me, instead making me feel sick and empty. I doubted his return… to wreak havoc once more for the world of good. Lucius wanted his return so badly and for what seemed like a lifetime, so had I…
But somewhere, I'm not completely sure when all these other thoughts begun to creep in. What if things never change? What if things continue as they've always been and Voldemort becomes little more than a myth? I'd still have money, power, and even status but with one important difference.
By the time I left school I'd have no one to answer to, not father or anyone else for that matter. For once I'd be free to make my own decisions and mistakes. To take whatever chances I wish too take. I finally wouldn't be under the thumb of my mom and dad. A father who hates me and a mother who makes me scared.
What could I be without their constant direction?
I could turn a new leaf and become someone else? Not bloodly likely, but I'd be something else.
Maybe I could remain as I am? Not much of a change of scenery but a life I understand.
Maybe I could strike out in a whole new direction? Nobody to control me or make me behave, no one but me to worry about again. That thought felt like heaven. I'd do as I pleased and lead a life that was mine.
No chance of living that life now, I guess. Voldemort has returned to power, which is something I can't help. My life, my chances, has all gone too hell. Now once I take on the Dark Mark there's no going back… or could there be hope? Probably not, I think.
Do I have any choices left to me at all? My father expects me to become a Death Eater too or… Dare I even think it? Dare I even hope or ask? A moments hesitation in my thoughts as I glance about afraid that I'll be struck down for thinking such a thought…
That maybe I could help the other side for a change? Fighting on Harry Potter and Dumbledore's side? Turn against my father, Severus Snape, and Voldemort too? What would my life be like then? I wonder… I find it all too hard to imagine.
Can I handle the dark trials ahead?
Will I be willing to fight to the death?
Can I betray everything I once knew?
Or should I give up this foolish dream?
Lay aside my fears, and become one of Lord Voldemort's men?
Feeling overwhelmed with emotions like I've never felt before I head for the door, open it, and there my father stood. I couldn't believe my lack of luck, caught like a sitting duck. He came to talk, that much was clear, and I was supposed to obediently hear. Hearing but not listening I stood in place, not looking him in the face.
Tired of listening to him berate me so much I lose my head. In my calmest voice I asked 'Would a world without Voldemort be really so bad?' This was the worst thing I could say. For a long moment he stared at me in horror and disgust. Then he began to rant, yell, and freak. Telling me that the walls have ears to hear and eyes too see, and how we must ally ourselves with the winning side or be stepped on in the process. Why we must put mudbloods, squibs, and even muggles in their place. Why we are superior and must rise to the dark occasion, with grace. Of course beyond all else, about upholding Malfoy honor, purity, and integrity. At last he ranted about his shame that such a fool as me could get the Malfoy name. If I were smart I'd wise up and do whatever was asked and perhaps become worthy of my heritage at last.
Sickened and tired I wearily thought 'I'm tired of pretending. I'm Draco Malfoy not a clone, damn it!' But instead of risking further confrontation I concede and apologize profusely. He accepts the answer more or less after much suspicion. Finally he left the room and went the way he came.
Now I began to tremble in silent rage, composure lost, my thoughts amuck, thinking about what little choices now remain. 'I'm not Lucius Malfoy!' I defiantly think… 'I'm Draco Malfoy for better or worse. I've a decision to make, no matter what he thinks. I may have evil in my blood, but my mind, my heart, and dare I think it, my soul are mine. Malfoy's be damned!'
I don't really care much for the other side or what they may think, but we seem to have something in common for a change. A desire to be free, and the need to defend ourselves. I may have to fight to the death, but right now I really don't care. All I care about is myself. I believe the purebloods should be restored, but at what price? If Voldemort fails we'll be wiped off the face of the earth and if he succeeds… I'll never be free.
I can't let this happen I suddenly think. No one deserves what Voldemort has in mind. Not mudbloods, or my kind. It's a crime to take away any choice such as this. To force them into a life like mine… Once again I sigh. I don't know if something is wrong with me or right… I do know that the choice is made and there's no going back. I've decided to hold onto what little hope remains in my darkened heart, that even I could make a new start.