Not Everything is as it Seems

Image from- https://www.brit.co/see-the-first-pics-of-draco-and-scorpius-malfoy-in-harry-potter-and-the-cursed-child/

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This story was inspired by J.K Rowling's "Harry Potter" series, in particular the first book, "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone." The story is set in Chapter 9 of the book, in which the readers are first introduced to Harry's natural talent at flying on a broomstick. I wanted to explore the character of Draco Malfoy for an English task at my school. The lines in bold are direct quotes from J.K Rowling's novel, which I incorporated into my story. Many of the scenes actually happen in the book, so they are not my ideas, I simply rewrote them from Draco's point of view.

This is based of J.K Rowling's book "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone".

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“Stick out your right hand over your broom” called Madam Hooch from the front, “and say UP!”

Draco followed her instructions, and along with everyone else shouted “UP!” loudly.

To his great joy, his broom flew right away in his hand and he smiled contently. He looked around and saw that almost everyone’s broom was in hand except for Hermione Granger’s, which had just rolled over and Neville’s, which hadn't moved. Draco remembered what he had told Neville this morning and how wounded Neville had looked. He felt his stomach churn uncomfortably with shame.

But I’m a Malfoy, Draco thought, it’s what I do.

He remembered that morning, when he had learned that the Slytherins and Gryffindors were having flying lessons together. He had felt a long moment of dread, thinking of Harry Potter, the famous Gryffindor. He can’t hurt you, Draco thought, not with Crabbe and Goyle around. He looked at the two stocky boys for reassurance and they both grinned back at him, brooms in hand.

Suddenly, Draco’s thoughts were interrupted as Madam Hooch came over. “Draco Malfoy, your grip is all wrong!” she said, pointing her whistle threateningly at him.

“But I’ve always done it like this.” he replied, shame coloring his face.

“Bah! You’ve been doing it wrong for years!” she spat.

Draco looked down at his hands, and with help from Madam Hooch fixed his grip around the broomstick. He felt ashamed but was happy to do it right, although he had to hide his satisfaction under a sneer, as “Malfoys never, I repeat never, smile nicely.”

He looked up and saw Harry and Ron laughing and as they pointed towards him. Draco blushed, and sneered at them, but inside he felt dread building up.

After a few moments, Madam Hooch made them all hover over the ground, and Draco did so with ease, ignoring the comments from Harry and Ron.

Suddenly, he saw Neville rising straight up like a cork bottle- twelve feet- twenty feet.

Draco saw his scared, white face look down on the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and-

WHAM! - a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay face down on the grass in a heap. Draco stood in shock, as Madam Hooch rushed over to the fallen boy. She quickly declared he “just has a broken wrist, no need to worry.” and brought Neville to the infirmary. The Gryffindors and Slytherins were left alone, unsupervised with a last “Don’t you dare get on your brooms!” from Madam Hooch as she walked away, Neville in hand.

Draco regained his senses and was about to say how sorry he was for Neville when a memory flew by.

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He was at home, getting ready to leave for Hogwarts. His dad was behind him, waiting impatiently. Suddenly, Lucius grabbed Draco’s shoulder and turned him, so that Draco was facing his father. Lucius sneered at him, and Draco gulped uncomfortably, his shoulder already starting to throb from the pressure of his father’s grip.

“Now listen here, boy. No more softness from you, do you hear? You’re a disgrace to the family. No more sniveling and crying. Man up. You’re a Malfoy and a pure blood. You have a legacy to protect, so you better not disappoint me again, Draco.” Lucius said, his long, white hair glinting harshly in the light.

Draco looked down at his shoes, shame burning his face.

“Yes, father.” he said dejectedly.

“You must do something to intimidate the others. Make them see that you do not care, that you are better. Show off your broomstick skills. Hurt someone where it hurts. Do something. You are a Malfoy, boy. Don’t you ever forget that. I expect nothing but the best from you, no matter how weak you are.” his father continued.

Draco bit his tongue, trying not to whimper from the pain of his shoulder, when suddenly Lucius let go of his shoulder and lifted Draco’s chin, so he could look him in the eyes.

“I wish I had better than you, weak and disgusting. Think I didn’t hear about the bird you hid in your room?” Lucius threatened quietly. His grey, cold eyes pierced into Draco, forcing out the cry of pain from his son.

“Please, father, please. I’m sorry. Don’t hurt him, please.” Draco begged, fear crawling around his insides.

He knew what his father did when he was angry.

He knew his father didn’t like being lied to.

“Pathetic.” Lucius said, letting Draco’s face fall, “Pathetic! You disgust me. Go to Hogwarts so I may not see your face again.” he said, and began walking away, stepping carelessly over Draco’s belongings. “And that creature of yours” he continued “is as good as dead. You better be in Slytherin, boy.”

And with that he left.

Draco fell to the ground in tears. He had saved the bird last winter, finding it with a broken wing. He had brought it home and cared for it in secret. Now, the bird would never see the sun’s light again.

A sob escaped Draco.

He looked up slowly and saw his reflection in the mirror. Red eyes, snotty nose, throbbing shoulder which already was forming a bruise.

Pathetic.

You are pathetic, he thought.

Pathetic. The word echoed around his head.

He suddenly stood up and wiped his tears away. I’ll show him, Draco thought, I’ll be the son he always wanted. He sneered at himself. I’m a Malfoy.

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Draco shook his head, clearing it of memories. Now was not the time. Suddenly, Draco spotted the familiar glitter of Neville’s Remembrall. Ignoring the stab of guilt piercing his gut, he ran forward and snatched it from the ground.

“Look!” Draco said. “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.”

He held it up to the sun, so that everybody could see. I’m a Malfoy, he thought.

“Give it here, Malfoy.” Harry said quietly. Everybody stopped to watch, and Draco felt fear creep up his insides.

“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom. How about up a tree?” Draco answered, sneering.

He ignored Hermione’s cries of protest, grabbed his broom and kicked off the ground.

“Come and get it, Potter!” Draco yelled, knowing this is what his father would have wanted. Make an impression.

Harry, easy to taunt, quickly took a broom and joined Draco in the air. To Draco’s shock Harry was a natural in the air.

Draco breathed, calming his racing heart.

“Give it here,” Harry called, “or I’ll knock you off that broom!”

Draco swallowed harshly and answered "Oh, yeah?”

Harry moved his broom forward and quietly said, out of earshot from the kids below, “You better give it, Malfoy. You know what’ll happen if you don’t. You don’t want people knowing what a disgrace you are do, you?”

Draco panicked and looked around for the reassurance of Crabbe and Goyle. Too late he realized he was alone.

“No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy.” Harry called. “Just you and me, loser.”

Draco knew that Harry had seen him cry in the bathrooms after receiving a Howler from his father, which had screamed insults about what a “Weak, disgraceful, frail boy” and how “You don’t deserve the name Malfoy, boy. Your bird, by the way is dead. Fed him to the dogs. Don’t you dare cry! Pathetic.”

Harry had heard everything and when the Howler had burned up, ending Lucius’ rant, he had cornered Draco. Made fun of him.

Draco felt shame creep up his face and in a last tentative to get Harry away from him, yelled “Catch it if you can, then!” and he threw the Remembrall high into the air.

Harry rushed after it and Draco flew back to the safety of the ground. He breathed a sigh of relief and watched Harry catch the glass ball with a spectacular dive.

For today, at least, his secret would be safe.

I’m a Malfoy, Draco repeated in his head. I won’t be pathetic.

I’m a Malfoy.

And I’ll prove that at any cost.