‹ Prequel: The Dark Witch
The Return of the Dark Witch
Coward
P.O.V – Draco Malfoy
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
The scene was playing over and over again inside my head like a broken record.
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
I could have hexed her, I should have, but I couldn’t. For some reason, I couldn’t.
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
I rolled over on my bed. My room was pitch black; I wanted it to be dark. I needed the darkness to think. Maybe that was the problem. I shouldn’t be thinking.
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
I had fled, like the coward I am. The coward I am trying to leave behind. A death eater, a true death eater, wouldn’t have run. My father certainly wouldn’t have.
I raised my hand to wipe my eyes, it wasn’t that I was crying, they were just itching, you see. No waterworks here, none whatsoever.
I rolled over.
I missed my father. Truth be told, I had never much cared for him when he was around, though I threatened everyone and their neighbor with him. However, now that he’s gone, I actually missed him. Maybe it was just the circumstances. With the Dark Lord wanting him dead and all.
I sat up, blinking my eyes hard.
But it was more than that, he wanted my mother dead as well, and she had done nothing to deserve that. Nothing at all.
I swallowed.
It was all up to me. Their lives, everything, was in my hands. I had never wanted this. Never wanted to be ‘chosen’. Not really anyway, not in the end. When I was younger, as in, before my father’s ‘blunder’ and subsequent incarceration, I did.
I smirked, shaking my head at myself.
I hated Potter, not only because he refused to be my friend, but because I wanted to be him more than anything else in the world. I wanted that ridiculous scar, I wanted that prestige of being 'chosen'. He had everything and I was a Malfoy. A grand name, but not world renowned like ‘Harry Potter, the boy who lived’. I was jealous, truly jealous, and my father made sure to rub it in my face every time he did something better than me. He really let me have it after Potter was made seeker as a first year.
I sighed, using my left hand to rub my neck.
But now, I had been chosen. Chosen by the most powerful dark wizard of our time, to not only kill his main opposition, but help him lay claim to Hogwarts as well. I should be proud. Practically bursting. But I wasn’t. I wish I had never been chosen. I wish I could just be ‘Draco Malfoy’ again, but I can’t. I have to grow up, I have to be a man.
My jaw stiffened, as I once again thought back,
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
I couldn’t give in so easily to Bec…Sinclair again. I couldn’t run. I can only imagine what the Dark Lord would do to me if he found out I ran from a defenseless, untrained, witch. She was practically a muggle for crying out loud, and I ran!
I stood up from my bed, frustrated. Punching my fist into the wall nearest to me. Genuinely smiling, as I enjoyed the throbbing of my fist.
I can’t be a coward. I’m a Malfoy. I’m a man.
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
The scene was playing over and over again inside my head like a broken record.
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
I could have hexed her, I should have, but I couldn’t. For some reason, I couldn’t.
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
I rolled over on my bed. My room was pitch black; I wanted it to be dark. I needed the darkness to think. Maybe that was the problem. I shouldn’t be thinking.
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
I had fled, like the coward I am. The coward I am trying to leave behind. A death eater, a true death eater, wouldn’t have run. My father certainly wouldn’t have.
I raised my hand to wipe my eyes, it wasn’t that I was crying, they were just itching, you see. No waterworks here, none whatsoever.
I rolled over.
I missed my father. Truth be told, I had never much cared for him when he was around, though I threatened everyone and their neighbor with him. However, now that he’s gone, I actually missed him. Maybe it was just the circumstances. With the Dark Lord wanting him dead and all.
I sat up, blinking my eyes hard.
But it was more than that, he wanted my mother dead as well, and she had done nothing to deserve that. Nothing at all.
I swallowed.
It was all up to me. Their lives, everything, was in my hands. I had never wanted this. Never wanted to be ‘chosen’. Not really anyway, not in the end. When I was younger, as in, before my father’s ‘blunder’ and subsequent incarceration, I did.
I smirked, shaking my head at myself.
I hated Potter, not only because he refused to be my friend, but because I wanted to be him more than anything else in the world. I wanted that ridiculous scar, I wanted that prestige of being 'chosen'. He had everything and I was a Malfoy. A grand name, but not world renowned like ‘Harry Potter, the boy who lived’. I was jealous, truly jealous, and my father made sure to rub it in my face every time he did something better than me. He really let me have it after Potter was made seeker as a first year.
I sighed, using my left hand to rub my neck.
But now, I had been chosen. Chosen by the most powerful dark wizard of our time, to not only kill his main opposition, but help him lay claim to Hogwarts as well. I should be proud. Practically bursting. But I wasn’t. I wish I had never been chosen. I wish I could just be ‘Draco Malfoy’ again, but I can’t. I have to grow up, I have to be a man.
My jaw stiffened, as I once again thought back,
“Do you really want to find out?”
“Go ahead…please”
I couldn’t give in so easily to Bec…Sinclair again. I couldn’t run. I can only imagine what the Dark Lord would do to me if he found out I ran from a defenseless, untrained, witch. She was practically a muggle for crying out loud, and I ran!
I stood up from my bed, frustrated. Punching my fist into the wall nearest to me. Genuinely smiling, as I enjoyed the throbbing of my fist.
I can’t be a coward. I’m a Malfoy. I’m a man.