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It's a story. That's all I can say.

The Almost Legend of Draco Malfoy
For Kassie

Draco Malfoy never wanted to do great things: they required too much effort. Great things took time and dedication, and inevitably were extraordinarily messy. Voldemort had been required to kill several hundreds of people before anyone noticed him, and Draco wasn‘t interested in doing that much work. Blood was impossible to get out any sort of quality robes, and Muggles simply weren’t that important to him. Draco didn’t have any great cause that fired his blood or called for him to use the Forbidden Curses. He certainly never wanted to be anybody’s hero – the word alone had so many negative connotations that Draco would have been appalled if anyone had even used it in the same sentence as his name. All Draco really wanted was to do what he wanted, when he wanted, with the minimal amount of fuss on his part and the maximum amount of pain to everybody else.

Draco was never ‘good.’ He was never ‘confused’ or ‘concerned.’ He never had a crisis of conscience or faith.

Draco never had faith to begin with.

At the end of the day, he didn’t give a toss.

Draco looked out for himself, and everyone else was irrelevant.

++++

When Draco was in school he did what was required, when it was required, and left it at that. Harry Potter was a boogie on his sleeve that he simply couldn’t wash off, but Draco didn’t stay up late at night wondering how to best him or how to bring about his downfall. Potter annoyed him, and Draco took great pleasure in mucking up his daily life, but that was what children were expected to do at that age, so that’s what Draco did. No more or less.

Potter was an insufferable git who simply got lucky more often then he should have. If he lived past his twenty-first birthday it would have been a miracle from Merlin, nothing more. Potter wasn’t that smart, but Draco really didn’t care one way or the other. The issue known as Harry Potter was his father’s business, and Snape’s livelihood, and Draco just wanted to get through the entire schooling business with as little effort as possible while accumulating as many minions as he could.

All schooling was a popularity contest, and Draco never went out of his way for anyone. He never gave consideration when it wasn’t – or was, due.

Draco did what was best for Draco. Full stop.

+++

He was born on the 12th of April at 4:20 in the afternoon. It was a Tuesday of no particular importance or accord. It rained slightly in the morning, but there was nothing memorable about the day. The day of his birth was almost as unremarkable as the day of his death, and perhaps if his mother had known how things were to turn out in the end she wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of giving birth. As it was, however, Draco very much did not want to come out into the world, so perhaps Narcissa should have had a clue.

Draco’s mother was in labour for almost 37 hours, and despite the remarkable staying power of the Practically Painless Pregnancy Potion (TM) up until that point, when it came time for Draco to be born, he was virtually immovable. Lucius smote several house elves in his rage, but Draco refused to budge. In the end, amongst threats and curses and hexes, Draco finally appeared. His mother was relieved, but his father was more than a bit beside himself. It might have had to do with Draco’s complete lack of hair. For all intents and purposes, Draco still looked like a half-cooked foetus; and the first time Lucius held his son, Draco urinated on his robe.

+++

Draco’s life for the first eleven years was relatively incident-free and easy. He was spoiled and cosseted and raised to be an insufferable brat. The idea of friends was foreign, as all non-Malfoys were acquaintances or minions-in-training. Draco was the sole interest of his mother, and she took great interest in his looks and his deportment.

Manners were for others; Malfoys had pride.

Draco was always a Malfoy.

+++

When the war finally came, Draco did the minimum amount required to keep himself in the graces of those in power. In fact, he would have been an excellent politician, but Draco never wanted to work for the Ministry – they were so common, and even less inspiring than his father, which sadly wasn’t saying much. Not that Draco didn’t respect his father, but whereas Lucius had belief in the cause, Draco was much more pragmatic. He was just doing what needed to be done. T

he first Muggle that he killed was a young girl with mousy brown pigtails and a battered-down doll.

The first wizard Draco killed was Terry Boot, and it was simply chance that Draco happened to know his name. If they hadn’t been in the same year, Draco felt sure their worlds would never have collided prior to Boot's demise. That night, when Draco went home, he didn’t fall to his knees in disgust and fear, or ecstasy and delight. He simply went home and slept a dreamless sleep as he had always done. However, later on in the war, he did take great satisfaction in killing one of the Weasley boys.

Draco wasn’t there at the last battle, and he certainly didn’t wind up in Azkaban. By the time all that mess came to a head, he was long gone. Firmly ensconced in a villa just outside Positano with a garden and a pet niffler. In the light of day, and in the dark of night, Draco stood by his father because that was what he was expected to do. He took no pleasure in it, but he wasn’t entirely disgusted either. Draco never had any incentive to side with the Forces of That Git Who Wouldn’t Die, but he cared about Voldemort and his lot even less.

It really was a matter of choosing between two evils, and all that ‘better the dark lord you know’ business.

Draco knew how to be practical.

+++

Love was always something for other people. It was a trap and a word: a vague concept to be used to make other people bend to Draco’s will.

Much like a Forbidden Curse.

Draco never loved anyone.

For sex there were boys and girls and more boys. Companionship was of no importance when Draco had minions, and he never missed or needed what he didn’t have.

To Draco, sex was power, and love was for the poor.

+++

There were no mourners when Draco Malfoy died. No one exalted, but no one cried. He would not have been surprised. In death, as in life, he was alone - a choice he made when he was young and fell for the wrong sort of partner. And as such, in the end, if anyone had shed a tear - honest or not – no one would have been more shocked than Draco, even if he was dead. As it happened there was no one even there to care either way. Draco’s mother had long gone, and his father was locked away, not that he had been in touch with them in ages regardless. In his mind, Draco had always been on his own, and perhaps that’s why things were the way they were. He died alone in his old age, and was buried with only ravens as witnesses and a Muggle caretaker in charge of his bones.

And as such there was never any legend to speak of.

-finis-

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There were no mourners when Draco Malfoy died. No one exalted, but no one cried. He would not have been surprised. In death, as in life, he was alone - a choice he made back when he was young and fell for the wrong sort of partner. And as such, in the end, if anyone had shed a tear - honest or not – no one would have been more shocked than Draco, even if he was dead. As it happened there was no one even there to care either way.

This got to me bad. I've sometimes wondered if there actually are people who believe they're just on earth to live. You know, nothing more or less, just go through the days. Because, well, most people believe their own greatness is just around the corner. Or is that just me?

Anyways great story.

That poor, evil (very evil) guy.

In depth character study. Nicely done.

the first time Lucius held his firstborn, Draco urinated on his robe.

::snicker::

that was fab. thank you.

Hurrah. I like this Draco. He is like me. There is no call for all this extraordinarism when you can just be. Besides, he pissed on Lucius' robes, and I feel there is no greater deed than that. He quite obviously could not have surpassed that in his lifetime. Plus the Forces of That Git Who Wouldn’t Die has made me laugh so hard I nearly fell off my chair.

I love it even though I hate Draco. Damn your talent.

There's a line in The Virgin Suicides (the book - I don't know if it made it into the film) that goes something like "bound for unhappiness only dimly perceived - bound, in other words, for life" and this story made me think of that. So simple and believable and utterly, utterly tragic. This just made me ache.

Dude, stop pouring out all of these brilliant stories.

Whoa, that was harsh....but seriously awesome.

Hullo, I'm just some random goonie who read the story you posted on snitchfiction and found your LJ via it and I just wanted to comment on how good this story was! I'm reading your other fics now and I really think you are a great writer! I can't wait to read the rest and more to come! I loved how you wrote Draco in this story.. it was really great :)

I am not reading HP. I am not reading HP. Damn...I'm reading HP. Gah! you!

You keep making me fall in love with Draco.

Whoa. Talk about the banality of evil. There's something so relentless and remorseless about his determination to remain detached and apart. At least Voldemort and his father are understandable in their ambition. But Draco's chilling in his lack of human awareness -- ah, color me moronic! You've just described a sociopath, someone with anti-social personality disorder. You can't change them, you can't influence them, you can't make them connect with the rest of us. There's no there there. They go through life leaving ruined people behind them and you never see them coming because their camouflage is so good.

*smiles* only you can really do this draco justice, out of all the hp writers i know, with your dry humor and your wry matter and your true third-person remove~:) i mean, anyone else would throw in some angst or some pathos or something. but yah. this is just so held back and matter of fact and unemotional, just like the character is describes~:)

on the other hand, the power of this piece comes partially from the reader's investment, doesn't it? i mean, you yourself wouldn't be as likely to write it if you didn't think draco malfoy is actually more interesting & more emotionally vibrant than that (in your head), would you?

i mean, it's because we don't believe it, don't want to believe it, that it attains its full impact. i see some people who don't read hp and/or don't like draco liked this too, but....

if i myself didn't give a damn, and -draco- didn't give a damn, and the -narrator- didn't give a damn, what's left? i suppose, identification with not giving a damn and pleasure at the skill of the writing, heh.
no one truly is like that, i don't think-- i mean, plenty of people -act- like that and -think- like that, but no one is truly that emotionally dead unless something is really truly wrong with them. ie, they're in heavy denial or they're psychotic (ie, their brain chemistry and/or structure is messed up). and here goes reena, over-analyzing -again-, hee.

of course, the coolness of this is because it -challenges-. it challenges you to believe or disbelieve or to have a -reaction- whereas the story itself is smug in its lack thereof. i don't think this draco is entirely in-character, though it's a very believable sketch. i would say in canon he definitely has strong emotions. negative emotions, but he definitely seems to have them. this unemotionality, "malfoy restraint" seems to me to be largely fanon. even harry's restraint isn't very canon. i was reading CoS and was struck by how mean and out-spoken and biting harry is a lot of the time.

plus the whole initial harry/draco interaction-- draco approaching harry in the robe shop, wanting to be friends, etc. i don't think he wanted harry as a minion, heh. but this is just to say, yah. thank goodness this isn't really the most in-character draco can get :D otherwise, we're kinda doomed. well, not that we weren't doomed already (blah, good, evil, blah).

i have no idea why i go off on these tangents instead of just responding to your -writing-. hm.
but yah, it was funny and well-wrought and brought a smile to my face (strange, i guess) as usual.

while accumulating as many minions as he could.
eheheheeh. i love this >:D the idea of draco collecting them is just adorable :D

For all intents and purposes, Draco still looked like a half-cooked foetus;
*giggles*

and all that ‘better the dark lord you know’ business.
oh, good one :D

a choice he made when he was young and fell for the wrong sort of partner.
ahahaha~~!!!

ok, don't go telling me i got it wrong.
this just makes me smirk and think, ah~! -now- the truth comes out :D
oh baby, we all know you did :D

~reena

But that everyone should have such a well-written obituary =-) That was a beautiful story. Short, and you went into so much depth with Draco.

Do you mind if I friend you?

~Amanda

Wow.

I really like how you didn't make Draco overly dramatic and all that. Like at the part about his first killings and stuff. You see fics where he goes wonky after that, and this is a nice refreshing change. I liked the way he was self-centered and all he cared about was his own safety. Wah... I just liked the portrayal of Draco in general.

Well, there's hardly anything I can say that's original, but I've avoided reading the other reviews in the faint hope that this may be quality crit. But it isn't quality crit. It's just awestruck dumbness in the face of your considerable talent.

The air of detachment in this piece is very well done. You're forcibly holding the readers at arms length - much like the deliberate distancing in the films of Antonioni or Jarmusch. Doing it with words is so very difficult, but you've managed it beautifully. Will go sulk now.

God. Herd!Draco is a horrible concept. I do prefer the I'm-only-looking-out-for-myself-the-rest-of-you-bugger-off Draco, but this took even that down several notches. The scary thought is that I know people like this. Nothing really affects them. They read Danielle Steele (and enjoy it in their cow-like way) and collect porcelainangels and watch reality television. God. Someone needs to make Mad Cow Disease for people and swipe out the herd. Death to the herd! Mooo!

Cheers,
Sing

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