‹ Prequel: The Dark Witch
The Return of the Dark Witch
My Façade
P.O.V – Draco Malfoy
I hated her.
That Sinclair cow.
What was she playing at? Telling me…telling me that she was…
As recently as last year, I wouldn’t have cared, you know. Not even a little. I would have just said a short, obligatory, ‘I’m sorry’, and then I would have been done with it.
The news that her parents were dead wouldn’t have ‘struck a chord’, wouldn’t have made me care, and, never ever, would have made me slip.
After all, a Malfoy’s mask never slipped.
We never stumbled, never faltered, and, certainly, never were reduced to genuine apologies and…
I paused in thought, self hate filling me more and more by the second.
I might as well just confessed all my carefully laid out plans to her and have been done with it.
My jaw tightened.
She was jeopardizing all I had strived for. All I was working towards, my ultimate goal, the death of Dumbledore.
I ignored the small pang in my chest, my fury was too overwhelming. My thoughts resuming at rapid pace.
I cannot afford to confide in anyone. Especially her.
After all, what was the first lesson my father had ever taught me?
They all, especially cows like her, that I added myself, turn on you in the end.
I would be a fool to forget it. I thought firmly, as the great oak castle doors swung open for me and I stepped inside the entrance hall. Swallowing hard. The doors to the Great Hall were open, and I could clearly see the sorting taking place.
I was nowhere near ready to face my ‘friends’, but I have no other option available to me. Between Potter and that idiot orphan girl, I was not only enraged, but late as well.
I frowned, my eyes turning away from the sorting, and towards the Slytherin table, my table. From a distance, they seemed as solemn as usual. Clearly, my presence among them was missed.
Damn Sinclair. I thought furiously, taking in a deep breath, closing my eyes tightly.
As I slowly pushed my anger towards her aside, along with everything else I felt.
That person, the one who felt, who cared, could not walk into the Great Hall. That’s not who everybody expects, not who they are used too.
I opened my eyes, my trademark smirk plastered onto my face. My façade was secure now. I now was, once again, Draco Malfoy. The expected one.
I took another look at my brooding ‘friends’. Laughing to myself, I knew the perfect thing to lighten them up, and with that thought in mind, I strode into the Great Hall.
I hated her.
That Sinclair cow.
What was she playing at? Telling me…telling me that she was…
As recently as last year, I wouldn’t have cared, you know. Not even a little. I would have just said a short, obligatory, ‘I’m sorry’, and then I would have been done with it.
The news that her parents were dead wouldn’t have ‘struck a chord’, wouldn’t have made me care, and, never ever, would have made me slip.
After all, a Malfoy’s mask never slipped.
We never stumbled, never faltered, and, certainly, never were reduced to genuine apologies and…
I paused in thought, self hate filling me more and more by the second.
I might as well just confessed all my carefully laid out plans to her and have been done with it.
My jaw tightened.
She was jeopardizing all I had strived for. All I was working towards, my ultimate goal, the death of Dumbledore.
I ignored the small pang in my chest, my fury was too overwhelming. My thoughts resuming at rapid pace.
I cannot afford to confide in anyone. Especially her.
After all, what was the first lesson my father had ever taught me?
They all, especially cows like her, that I added myself, turn on you in the end.
I would be a fool to forget it. I thought firmly, as the great oak castle doors swung open for me and I stepped inside the entrance hall. Swallowing hard. The doors to the Great Hall were open, and I could clearly see the sorting taking place.
I was nowhere near ready to face my ‘friends’, but I have no other option available to me. Between Potter and that idiot orphan girl, I was not only enraged, but late as well.
I frowned, my eyes turning away from the sorting, and towards the Slytherin table, my table. From a distance, they seemed as solemn as usual. Clearly, my presence among them was missed.
Damn Sinclair. I thought furiously, taking in a deep breath, closing my eyes tightly.
As I slowly pushed my anger towards her aside, along with everything else I felt.
That person, the one who felt, who cared, could not walk into the Great Hall. That’s not who everybody expects, not who they are used too.
I opened my eyes, my trademark smirk plastered onto my face. My façade was secure now. I now was, once again, Draco Malfoy. The expected one.
I took another look at my brooding ‘friends’. Laughing to myself, I knew the perfect thing to lighten them up, and with that thought in mind, I strode into the Great Hall.