Reflections of a Half Life

I don't remember much of my childhood. What I do remember, vaguely, is filled with memories of you, hurting me or my mother. You never turned your wand on me. At least, not until the summer before my third year at Hogwarts. But, from what I can remember, you always used your wand on Mother. I never considered you much of a man for doing that.

I remember my life after I started at Hogwarts - filled with second bests and put downs. You were less than thrilled that Mother refused to send me anywhere else for school and I know you made her pay dearly for it. I also know you weren't pleased that Harry Potter had been discovered just in time to start at Hogwarts at the same time as me. I never really liked it either. From the moment I opened that letter from you at breakfast on my first day there, I knew the remainder of my days there would always involve you telling me how much better I could have done, how unpleased you were with my efforts, how much it upset you that Potter did better than me. You brought me up to consider Potter the enemy, lower than us. But as the years went on, no matter how much you yelled, cursed me and hurt me, I always saw how much happier he was. I wanted to have his happy life and you were stopping me.

I've always known I should be proper and be exactly like you; to prove to you how much of a good son I could be. There were days where I almost decided to tell you I was through with your lies and painful memories. But, in the end, I always decided against it, thinking that you were my father and you might one day show that you truly loved me as your son.

The summer before my sixth year, you showed me the ultimate betrayal. You offered me to Lord Voldemort as bait. I only accepted the task because I thought I might win your respect in the end. My plan was brilliant and I had little help in the end, only my loyal helpers (I would never call them friends) were there as lookouts, never more. And my plan worked! But, when I finally had the old man cornered, pleading, I realized I couldn't complete my task because he'd been more of a father to me than you'd ever been. It never occurred to me that Mother would preform an unbreakable Vow, and it came as a great shock to me when Snape came along and did what I couldn't bring myself to do. The rest of that night is very much a blur. I do remember waking up in a guestroom in Snape's house a few days later. The house showed no signs of life aside from me, so quickly changing my clothes, I ran away. I cut my hair, and coloured it and gave myself a new name. I didn't want to be seen as a Malfoy anymore; the name meant nothing to me. I moved from town to town for the next year and a half, doing odd jobs for money, stealing when I had to.

Until that one day, when I bumped into you in Little Hangleton. I remember reaching quickly for the gun I'd bought for protection to avoid using my wand. I remember my hand tightening around the handle protectively and a memory flooded back to me of you lecturing me on proper bloodlines and pureblood being the only suitable bloodline. Then I remembered hearing a loud bang and I realized what I'd just done. On my 18th birthday, I used a Muggle weapon to kill you. I watched you fall gracefully almost into the mud and watched your blood run from red to clear as the heavy rain washed it away.

And, as I sit here in Azkaban and write you this letter you'll never read, I realized for the first time in my life, that I'm Ok.