Life's events, at times, can be so unexpected. Beautiful, yet totally unexpected. In my life, the expected events are usually the most horrid ones.
One thing I never expected was for me, a Malfoy nonetheless, to fall in love. Well, it wasn't really falling. It was more like hitting the ground while running. Reflecting back on my tryst with love, I still find things hard to swallow. My path was cut out for me. Father expected me to become a Death Eater. Mother did also, granted she did not agree with the whole ordeal. The entire house of Slytherin bowed down to me as if I were a god, simply because of my name. I must admit, I liked having power. I liked being influential.
In the beginning, all I was about were appearances. A smirk here, a taunt there. I didn't care who I hurt. 'As long as the Malfoy name isn't tarnished, do as you wish,' my father would say. And the smirks, the sneers? That was the type of behavior expected of me. And at that period in life, a teenager with Father's money and aristocratic features to boot, people's feelings didn't even matter. Only mine did. And that behavior is what led me to my path towards falling in love. And no, I didn't fall in love with Pansy Parkinson, as was expected. No, it was someone totally different. Totally, completely, and utterly unexpected.
It all started my fifth year. That's when I noticed her. Sure, I saw her around sometime, but her face was always one in a crowd. Nothing really stood out, besides that hair. That's one of the things that made me take notice. Her hair. It was red, but not that orange type of red. Her red was more deep. Not exactly as crimson as blood, but not as bright as her brother's hair either. I guess it was just a shade that matched her -- unexplainable, yet completely breathtaking.
I bet you're saying to yourself, "Wow. Malfoy's completely gone around the bend." But I haven't. I guess you can call it me being insightful.
It was in Umbridge's office, when she bat bogey hexed me, that I really began to take notice. And I couldn't explain to myself why it was that I took notice of her, when I never did before. Maybe it was the way she stood up to me? The way my sneer didn't frighten her? I don't know. But whatever it was, it definitely had me intrigued.
Before she came into my life, things seemed utterly predictable. Like I said before, I was expected to become a Death Eater. Sometimes I felt trapped. I never knew what was good for me. Everything was to please Father. To follow in his footsteps. To not make a mockery of the Malfoy name. But why? Sometimes I thought, while I drowned myself in self pity, would it matter anyway? Would Father ever be pleased with me? But yet, I always found myself looking for his approval.
Despite my father's lectures about the value of Purebloodedness and how bad Muggles and Muggle lovers were, I sought Ginevra Weasley out anyway. Our story is one of a modern love.
One thing I never expected was for me, a Malfoy nonetheless, to fall in love. Well, it wasn't really falling. It was more like hitting the ground while running. Reflecting back on my tryst with love, I still find things hard to swallow. My path was cut out for me. Father expected me to become a Death Eater. Mother did also, granted she did not agree with the whole ordeal. The entire house of Slytherin bowed down to me as if I were a god, simply because of my name. I must admit, I liked having power. I liked being influential.
In the beginning, all I was about were appearances. A smirk here, a taunt there. I didn't care who I hurt. 'As long as the Malfoy name isn't tarnished, do as you wish,' my father would say. And the smirks, the sneers? That was the type of behavior expected of me. And at that period in life, a teenager with Father's money and aristocratic features to boot, people's feelings didn't even matter. Only mine did. And that behavior is what led me to my path towards falling in love. And no, I didn't fall in love with Pansy Parkinson, as was expected. No, it was someone totally different. Totally, completely, and utterly unexpected.
It all started my fifth year. That's when I noticed her. Sure, I saw her around sometime, but her face was always one in a crowd. Nothing really stood out, besides that hair. That's one of the things that made me take notice. Her hair. It was red, but not that orange type of red. Her red was more deep. Not exactly as crimson as blood, but not as bright as her brother's hair either. I guess it was just a shade that matched her -- unexplainable, yet completely breathtaking.
I bet you're saying to yourself, "Wow. Malfoy's completely gone around the bend." But I haven't. I guess you can call it me being insightful.
It was in Umbridge's office, when she bat bogey hexed me, that I really began to take notice. And I couldn't explain to myself why it was that I took notice of her, when I never did before. Maybe it was the way she stood up to me? The way my sneer didn't frighten her? I don't know. But whatever it was, it definitely had me intrigued.
Before she came into my life, things seemed utterly predictable. Like I said before, I was expected to become a Death Eater. Sometimes I felt trapped. I never knew what was good for me. Everything was to please Father. To follow in his footsteps. To not make a mockery of the Malfoy name. But why? Sometimes I thought, while I drowned myself in self pity, would it matter anyway? Would Father ever be pleased with me? But yet, I always found myself looking for his approval.
Despite my father's lectures about the value of Purebloodedness and how bad Muggles and Muggle lovers were, I sought Ginevra Weasley out anyway. Our story is one of a modern love.
Leave a Review