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Love, Not War by Yoshi_Kitten
Chapter 1 : Draco's Introduction
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 66

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A/N: The intro to this story is written from Draco’s perspective after the war has taken place. If he seems different here, that is because a lot has taken place between now and then to make him that way. This introduction is the only chapter of the story that is in First person. The rest will all be in Third person. I hope you all enjoy it!  :)


“All is fair in Love and War.” That’s what they say, isn’t it? Well I for one would like to meet the moron who came up with that statement, that way I could smack him in the mouth for even uttering those words. I mean, how stupid it is to think that anything could be fair in a war, especially love.

If I have learned anything throughout my eighteen years of experience thus far, it is that nothing is fair in love and war. We have been at war here since before I was even born. But I have only been actively involved with the war for the past two years, or so I had thought. And fighting on the wrong side, at that. But I think that I should start at the beginning...

My father has always been rather well-known. He’s a wealthy man, who seems to have all the right friends in all of the right places, as he likes to say. He was even once well connected with the Minister of Magic himself... but that was then. Things were a lot more simple back then.

Sometimes it can be a good thing, having a rich and powerful father. But most of the time, it is torture. People always say; “that Draco Malfoy, he is so much like his father.” They all seem to think that I am my father. I however must disagree. Sure I may look like him, sound like him, talk like him and even act like him at times, but I am not my father. My whole life I have been forced to be like him, but all I’ve ever wanted is to just be myself. Why can’t people see that?
Everyone knows who Lucius Malfoy is, but they do not know him. No one really knows what goes on at the Malfoy Manor when all the curtains are drawn and the doors are locked. My father may have seemed to be a very hospitable man, but that was only a charade. For if people knew the sort of things that really went on in that house, they may begin to question my father’s intentions.

You see, my father has always had these very strict, very old rules, that some may find questionable. I myself have found a few of them to be a bit too evil for my liking. Even my own mother didn’t agree with the way father raised me half of the time. But I never questioned why though. I was too scared to even ask. It was instilled into my brain at a very young age to listen and obey. Never ask questions, or else. That was rule number one. So even though I’ve always longed for an explanation, I never once dared to ask.

I have always wondered why father seemed so nice out in public, but then he was so evil at home. He and mother used to have these fights over how I was to be raised, all the time. Mum always thought that father was being too hard on me, whereas he did not believe that he was being nearly hard enough. To me, it seemed as though he was frightened that I would fail at something important. I think that’s why I’ve always been so compelled to be the best at everything I do. I just want to show my father that I am not a failure. All I have ever wanted is his approval, just to hear him say that he is proud of me for something, anything! Perhaps maybe that's why you people seem to believe that I am so much like him.

But no matter how well I did or how much I tried, he never was proud of me. He certainly did not ever congratulate or reward me for doing my best. Instead, he liked to point out all of my flaws, and tell me where I did wrong. So I never felt good enough for him. Never felt loved by him. Most of the time, I hate myself for being such a failure, because if I wasn’t a failure, maybe then father would love me. Maybe then he would be proud of me...

My parents first met at Hogwarts. They were both in Slytherin house, as was I. They’ve always both been extremely fascinated by the dark arts, so therefore I was raised to fancy them as well. I never once thought that the way they believed; the way I believed, was wrong. I grew up thinking that muggles were just a bunch of useless fools. A waste of space, that is what father had called them. And all muggle-born wizards, or mudbloods, they should have never be given a wand in the first place. They have been tarnishing the name of Wizard. This is what I was taught.

When I was little, my father used to tell me the most wonderful stories about this great wizard that he once knew. He was a man who had this dream of getting rid of all the mudbloods for good, and cleansing the entire wizarding race. My father seemed to love this man, whoever he was. They say that he was the most powerful wizard of all time, and that my father was his right-hand-man. His name is a name that I have known well from a young age on... His name is Lord Voldemort.

My father always insisted that Voldemort was still alive, and would one day return to us. My mother, however, believed him to be dead. But anytime I asked where he was, they both just told me that he was away on a vacation or something, and that no one knew when he was coming back. But father always insisted that we be ready for his return at all times.

Although Voldemort was not around for the majority of my childhood, he certainly seemed to be a rather large part of it. Everything my father did was centered on or around Voldemort, in one way or another. It was always rather difficult for me to go to school and hear people talking about him as though he was the bad-guy, because I grew up always believing that Voldemort was a good-guy. For the most part, I was always taught his principals, his beliefs, and his secrets. I never knew that the way Voldemort believed was wrong. To me, it was everyone else who had it all wrong...

Another thing I think that everyone else has gotten all wrong is this concept of love. When it comes to things like what they call true love, I feel like that’s the sort of thing that only exists in fairytales. I mean, I know that my parents both love me, and I know that they love each other, but we just don’t go around saying it all the time. We never have. It just isn’t the Malfoy style.

My mother did tell me she loved me though, quite a few times actually, but never, never in front of father. And I cannot recall a time that my father ever actually told me he loved me, for I do not think that he ever has.

But I do remember this one time that I told him that I loved him. He just gave me a dirty look and said: “You should never allow people to see your true feelings like that, Draco. It is a sign of weakness. Don’t you dare start going soft on me now, son. I never want to hear those words come out if your mouth again, do I make myself clear?”

And he had been perfectly clear...

So what is love anyways? What makes it so great? Why is it so special? And, if it really exists, then why doesn’t it exist for me? Is it fair that I should have to grow up in an environment where the mentioning of love is strictly forbidden? No, it isn’t fair at all.

I mean, I never even knew what love looked like before... That is, until she came along.

For those of you who are wondering, the answer is no. No, this is not going to be another story all about Harry Potter. If you want to read about him then go and find another book. There are plenty of them out there all about him. Potter could open his own personal library if he wanted to, and that’s the problem. There are way too many books out there about Harry, and not enough books about the people who were around to help him.

Harry Potter had a ton of help during this war, from several different people, I being one of them. But for whatever reason though, the press just looks past them all and focuses on him. Give the boy a break for a change. Don’t you think he deserves it? Granted, this story does mention Harry on occasion, but it is not about him. It is about me.

I have found that I am still a very misunderstood person within the ministry. Therefore, I am having my story written, with the hope that those of you out there who still hate the mentioning of the name Malfoy, will get a glimpse as to who I really am.

The only thing we can’t choose in this world is our family. I just so happen to have one of the oldest, dark, evil, and most hated families out there. But is that my fault? No. People still blame me for it though. So why don’t you all just shut up for a change, and listen to what I have to say.

Contrary to popular belief, I am a person too you know; and I do have feelings, just the same as you. My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy. And this is my story...

So... how did you like it? Please take some time to share your thoughts with me. I love getting feedback! :) Thanks for reading! There's still LOTS more to come!

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