quill

(no subject)

I've been at the Manor since my return and I have no idea the number of times the house elves have replaced or repaired the furnishings in my suite. I'm seized by fits of rage and loathing so deep the destruction only calms it for a time. And it's not just at them.

I have been made a fool.

I am a fool.

My libido and vanity placed me in their hands. I was am a Malfoy, the epitome of beauty, desire, control. They exploited two and took the third away.

My memories.

My choices.

My identity.

And oh, didn't I just fall into line perfectly?

A puppet, a toy, something to be fucked and sent off like the good little soldier... that I nearly was before. I thought I was better! I thought I had done better! I escaped that fate once, why isn't that enough? I didn't have to be there. There was no family for me to try and fail to protect - this wasn't my war. How dare they drag me into theirs! I want to rip through the doorway to their world, rain down fire and make them suffer, suffer for what they've put me through. Let their lands run red with their blood while I stand and laugh at the pitiful, pleading shells of what I once found beautiful - but there will be no mercy.

It is in the midst of these fantasies that I scare myself the most. I sound as crazy as Aunt Bella.

Blood will tell?

I fell so easily in. I enjoyed it. Thrived in an atmosphere of sex and violence - have I merely denied it all this time? Is... Kalen inescapably there, under my skin, just waiting to break free?

Malfoy's do not do self doubt well. This is why I've always chosen denial.

But it won't go away.

Sometimes I'd rather they had left me there, mindless to the knowledge I have now and the two lives to reconcile.

Who asked them for this? Fuck holy Potter and his savior complex - I didn't ask to be saved!

They sent Greengrass of all people. The other two that were taken - they had loved ones. I mentally mocked them on the battle field, even as some part of me noted the display, the bonds. I have never pined for love and now I can't help but feel the need to laugh. Either that or cry.

All this time I've lived and the best they could do was Greengrass. Not someone with heart felt declarations. Not someone that even really cared.

A woman I loathe.

That was the emotional reaction they decided would save me.

I nearly killed her.

I should have.

And then gone after them. They all know. Know that I let myself be led around by my cock and what it cost me.

So what does my life at this point amount to?

An interfering mother, a father that spent years in Azkaban and (so far as I know) hasn't the slightest inclination his son is gayer than a copper galleon, an insane and also criminal aunt, and a spider. Sorry Lady Carmilla, you know I don't mean it that way.

Potter. Perhaps, if there are pieces to put together after I kill him.

Severus - whom I adore in an uncle-substitute father type way. So long as he keeps his hands off Mother.

Ginny - a girl. Enough said.

Seamus - I actually liked him, unusual to say the least. Didn't stop me from falling under Vasily though, now did it? I tried to contact him - I don't know why. To see if more might develop? I was informed by his neighbor that he is out on a story for an undetermined length of time. So much for that then. I didn't even get an owl.

Goyle, I guess. He's back, haven't seen much of him but he's not the most scintillating conversationalist.

That's it. A string of one night - or month - stands, several nemeses and a few friends and one that might have been more.

No wonder they sent Greengrass. Fuck, I wonder why they bothered in the first place.

I have heard from no one, aside from Potter wanting to know when I was coming back to work.

Perhaps soon. Furniture doesn't provide much of an opponent.
Right

Draco, Severus, Harry ~ A Grove ~ Complete

An Ambush
December 5, 1997 ~ Early Evening



Draco scowled as he crouched behind the tree. The Disillusionment Charm made him uncomfortable, the descending darkness settling in the area disguised Merlin knew what and to top it all off they were laying in wait in a no doubt futile attempt to reason with a hard headed be-speckled git who might just try to kill them. Potter was so utterly 'Gryffindor Noble' though that he probably mourned the lost babies when he wanked.

It was almost enough to make him reconsider facing Voldemort's wrath. Well, then again..

Not wanting to look down and see what was causing the squishing under his foot - not to mention the stench - Draco glared at the vague outline of the man with him.

"I hate you."