My Heart's Keeper
Draco
Dra•co [drey-koh]
noun, genitive Dra•co•nis [drey-koh-nis]
Origin: Latin
In Greco- Roman legend, Draco was a dragon killed by the goddess Minerva and tossed into the sky upon his defeat. The dragon was one of the Giant Titans, who battled the Olympic gods for ten years. As Minerva threw the dragon, it became twisted on itself and froze at the cold North Celestial Pole before it could right itself.
Minerva
Mi•ner•va [mi-nur-vuh]
noun
Origin: Latin
Minerva was the virgin goddess of music, poetry, medicine, wisdom, commerce, weaving, crafts, and magic. She is often depicted with her sacred creature, an owl, usually named as the "owl of Minerva", which symbolizes that she is connected to wisdom.
I suppose, if you look at it from a metaphorical point of view, the legend of our names were correct; I was the only person who could destroy Draco, but what the legend failed to mention, was that no matter how able I was of destroying him, I could never bring myself to do so. He wasn’t evil, nothing of it, in fact. There were undesirable factors about him, yes, yet none of that mattered to me. He was foul mouthed, sly, and sometimes cruel, but there wasn’t a single piece of him that I could bring myself to detest. His soul, as tainted as it was, remained beautiful, and I knew that I was the only person capable of knowing that. His hard exterior hid the fact that he was as vulnerable as a small child, his fear wounding his pride beyond belief. This is why, I believe, he fought with such determination to be anything but pleasant.
But, oh, how pleasant he was, behind his masquerade; his compassion, his gentleness. He protected me in a way he had never been protected, he almost attempted to shield me from witnessing any amount of darkness with my own eyes. Though, we both knew that he couldn’t protect me from everything. It was inevitable that something would tear us apart, that somebody could harm me, and much to Draco’s despair, he wasn’t strong enough to save me from the wickedness of the Dark Lord.
Dra•co [drey-koh]
noun, genitive Dra•co•nis [drey-koh-nis]
Origin: Latin
In Greco- Roman legend, Draco was a dragon killed by the goddess Minerva and tossed into the sky upon his defeat. The dragon was one of the Giant Titans, who battled the Olympic gods for ten years. As Minerva threw the dragon, it became twisted on itself and froze at the cold North Celestial Pole before it could right itself.
Minerva
Mi•ner•va [mi-nur-vuh]
noun
Origin: Latin
Minerva was the virgin goddess of music, poetry, medicine, wisdom, commerce, weaving, crafts, and magic. She is often depicted with her sacred creature, an owl, usually named as the "owl of Minerva", which symbolizes that she is connected to wisdom.
I suppose, if you look at it from a metaphorical point of view, the legend of our names were correct; I was the only person who could destroy Draco, but what the legend failed to mention, was that no matter how able I was of destroying him, I could never bring myself to do so. He wasn’t evil, nothing of it, in fact. There were undesirable factors about him, yes, yet none of that mattered to me. He was foul mouthed, sly, and sometimes cruel, but there wasn’t a single piece of him that I could bring myself to detest. His soul, as tainted as it was, remained beautiful, and I knew that I was the only person capable of knowing that. His hard exterior hid the fact that he was as vulnerable as a small child, his fear wounding his pride beyond belief. This is why, I believe, he fought with such determination to be anything but pleasant.
But, oh, how pleasant he was, behind his masquerade; his compassion, his gentleness. He protected me in a way he had never been protected, he almost attempted to shield me from witnessing any amount of darkness with my own eyes. Though, we both knew that he couldn’t protect me from everything. It was inevitable that something would tear us apart, that somebody could harm me, and much to Draco’s despair, he wasn’t strong enough to save me from the wickedness of the Dark Lord.