&&. we_intertwined }}

[Secret Lily]

Title: Gradual Defeat
Penname: Secret Lily
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Language.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR pwns.
Genre: Angst
Summary/Teaser: A bit of perspective upon Draco Malfoy's previous years at Hogwarts && the life has is faced with following the death of Albus Dumbledore.

Gradual Defeat


Gorgeous banner by Green Angel.

With time comes age. With age comes sadness. Draco Malfoy was no exception. It was over time and with age that he began to deteriorate. He began to fall into an endless pit, falling and falling, his voice growing fainter as the seconds rolled on. It was over time, it was with age, that he began to realize that he was no longer the person he’d once been. He wasn’t nothing. He was his father’s son. He was Voldemort’s servant. He was more than he’d have ever wanted.

It was at eleven that he first started to feel the transformation. The pressure mounted, his father’s voice ringing tirelessly in his mind, his words echoing in a frantic, rushed, inescapable manner. Immediately following his induction into the great Slytherin house at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the expectations began.

At twelve, Draco began to need. He craved his father’s acceptance, craved some sort of emotion. It seemed as if his father deliberately refused to confide in him. After a year of constantly being encouraged, constantly being pressured, Draco was shunned. His father was seemingly preoccupied. The mere mention of the Chamber of Secrets, the tail of ever conversation, sent Lucius Malfoy into a bundle of nerves. It was in his second year that Draco began to conform.

Thirteen, a pivotal age for any young boy, was filled with the constant burden of hippogriffs and mudbloods. It was at the end of his third year that Draco became ashamed. He had needed the assistance of his father to persevere over Harry Potter and in the end, it had still foiled. Yet, Lucius Malfoy had done his part. He had used his power, his influence, his notorious tactics of persuasion, to oblige to Draco’s concerns. And Draco had never felt more dependent upon anyone before. And he didn’t exactly enjoy the feeling.

During his fourth year at Hogwarts, the Triwizard Tournament had been issued at his school. Set to test one’s use of practicality and talent in the face of danger, the tournament had been restricted to anyone and everyone under the age of seventeen. But, for whatever reason, Harry Potter had managed to become a contestant. And Draco learned exactly what it felt like to become envious. Of course, he’d always held a slight surge of annoyance when it came down to the Boy-Who-Lived, but in their fourth year, it grew to more. Harry Potter, the orphaned boy that exhibited no real means of talent, had no one to impress. Yet, he seemed to be given any and every golden opportunity the world offered.And that irritated Draco beyond anything. He had someone to impress. He had parents to make proud. But he couldn’t. And it was all because of Harry Potter. His thirst for glory only increased.

In his fifth year at Hogwarts, Draco used his father’s name to reach power. Once more, he was dependent upon Lucius. He was slowly losing himself, losing his own persona to that of his father. Dolores Umbridge could care less about whether he had hopes, aspirations. She was merely concerned with where he stood, what his connections were, and whether he was willing to readily enforce her obscure policies for the school. It didn’t hurt that he withheld an ever-growing rivalry with Harry Potter, the boy who was slowly going over the edge as well. It was during his fifth year that Draco began to understand exactly where hatred originated from. For him, it was Harry Potter and his deluded hero complex. It was in his fifth year that Lucius Malfoy was sent to Azkaban. And all because of fucking Potter.

Without that name, without that dependability, Draco was deprived. He’d already lost grasp of who he may have been, who he may have become. At sixteen, he had no choice. He had to fulfill all that Lucius Malfoy had left undone. His father had failed for once and for the first time, Draco was left to pick up the pieces. He had a mother to think about, a life to protect. He had a promise to keep. His left arm stung the entire year, that filthy mark penetrating it’s source of evil upon his skin.

It was during Draco’s sixth year of Hogwarts that he began to throw away all that he’d become accustomed to over the years. He was a Death Eater. He was Lord Voldemort’s servant. And he needed to prove to his father that he could persevere without him. He needed to be a man. And, unfortunately, that entailed taking down the late, great Albus Dumbledore.

He soon realized that he wasn’t a Death Eater. He wasn’t himself. He’d lost himself along the way, lost it to an extreme risk. All he had to compensate for his efforts was a dark, ugly mark upon his forearm. And that was hardly a reward.

His envy only grew with time. His thirst for acceptance, for approval, only increased as the year passed. He found himself envious of that damn Harry Potter once more. He hated himself for it, but he couldn’t exactly ward off his feelings of jealousy. Potter had two friends, two friends who were willing to sacrifice it all for his well-being. He had Ginny Weasley, a girl who refused to lose hope in him. And he, Draco, had nothing.

Potter didn’t have anyone to answer to. Potter didn’t have a father with unattainable expectations. Potter didn’t have a master who would readily dispose of him at even the slightest sign of failure. Potter didn’t have Severus Snape constantly breathing down his neck, keeping a wary eye upon him. Potter didn’t have the burden of killing the greatest wizard to ever come about within the magical community. Potter had it all. And Draco’s envy exemplified as the responsibilities mounted.

And now, at seventeen, he had to face his defeat. He had to embrace the person he’d become. For now, it was all he had.

[Broken Innocence]

wow. That was.....wow. Intense. I really liked it all.