Chameleon

Chameleon

I never was like either of my sisters. Andromeda was pure, smart, funny, and good. Bella was cunning, clever, persistent, and, well, a bit evil I suppose. I was never completely either. I changed from one to the other.

When I was around Andromeda, without Bella or anyone else around, I wasn't quite as harsh. I tried to be understanding and bite my tongue when there was an opportunity to taunt. When around Bella, or Mother and Father, or anyone else besides Andromeda, practically, I was taunting, mean, conceited, and vain.

I never felt at home with either personality. Being understanding and good was terribly hard. I couldn't let my thoughts flow freely and I felt like a horrible actress in some sappy muggle film.

Being like Bella suited me more than being like Andromeda but I never felt at home there either. It was so much easier to be cruel and make mean remarks. It made me feel better and it gave me power over others. I liked the power that came with taunting but, unlike Bella, I sometimes regretted the things I said.

I always enjoyed making someone feel inadequate. I was always happy when one of my victims walked away with their head hanging low. That was one of my greatest joys in life and it still is. I do it without even thinking. Giving someone a sneer or a wrinkling of my nose is a daily habit.

I've never considered myself as "good," and I've never considered myself as "evil." I don't even know what I consider myself. I suppose I think of myself as in-between.

I am beautiful and radiant, like the most stunning flower. When I look in a mirror I see a tall, slender woman with lovely blond hair staring back at me. I pride myself in my looks and flaunt them without a care.

I suppose my beauty has made me to be a slightly vain person, or at least that's what Andromeda called me once as a child, a vain little brat. I don't really care. My gift is beauty and I use it for all that its worth.

Now the problem I face my beauty won't get me out of or help me in any way nor will my ability to change personalities. The name Malfoy is tarnished now. It has no more worth than a putrid common muggle name. The name Malfoy used to bring respect and sometimes fear along with it. Now it only brings shame and untrustworthiness.

I blame it all on Lucius. I was never a Death Eater. I believed in He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, yes. I thought that Dumbledore and his love of muggles and mudbloods was ridiculous and slanderous. I supported You-Know-Who but never enough to be willing to kill for him or to claim myself to him.

Lucius did, though. He sold himself to The Dark Lord as soon as he began to gather followers. I didn't object to that. At the beginning I was certain that You-Know-who would triumph over Dumbledore and when he did, the Malfoys would be at the top of his list of supporters. I never even considered the thought that Lucius could be caught.

Naturally, when Lucius joined up he wanted me to join with him. I deeply didn't want to. I was not about to kiss the hem of The Dark Lord's robes and worship him until the day I died, but I couldn't possibly let Lucius know that.

So instead I told him that on the off chance that he was discovered who would be there to watch over Draco who was only an infant at the time?

He said, and I still remember it to this day, "Narcissa, what does the boy matter? He's only a baby. Why should I care if he's taken away from us? He's only a nuisance. He's better off dead."

I nearly felt like fainting. Was he actually saying that he wished his son dead?

"But - but, Lucius, he's our son."

"Yes, and?" he said impatiently.

"He's the heir to the Malfoy fortune and our son. The Malfoy family tree would end at us if he were to die. The Malfoy name must live on."

"He was a mistake from the beggining, Narcissa," Lucius said.

That was true. Neither Lucius nor I had wanted children. He had forced me into bed. I didn't wish to. He said that it was time to have some fun with me. The memory still haunts me to this day.

"Narcissa, I am getting the impression that you wish to keep him alive. Why? Do you wish to have to look after a child for the rest of your life and be a mother?"

"No, I have no want of taking care of a child but. . ."

"Narcissa, The Dark Lord will not be defeated and I will not be discovered as you so charmingly put it."

"Then our son will follow in your footsteps. You can teach him, Lucius. You can teach all of the most advanced curses and potions to him. We can mold our son into being a wonderful Death Eater. He will be a son to be proud of."

I won him over with this. "All right, Narcissa," and he left the room.

Now he's gone and I'm alone, alone to be a mother. I wished I had said, "Let's go ahead and dispose of him. You're right, he will only be an annoyance." Then, at least I wouldn't have to take care of him.

Thank Slytherin he's sixteen. He can bloody well take care of himself without my help. He doesn't even know that I'm the only reason that he's even alive. If it wasn't for me he might be dead by now.

I guess I've grown fond of Draco during all these years. Well, I suppose I should, I am his mother.

When he was little he would call me, "mummy." What a horrible, nasty muggle and mudblood common name. I forbade him to ever call me that when he was two and he's never forgotten. Only when hell freezes over will I ever be called mummy.

Sometimes I considered just giving Draco to the house-elf and saying, "you take care of the brat. You change his rancid diapers. You do it. I've had enough."

I never did, though. I always fed him, changed his disgusting diapers, and played the rest of the mother role to him. I did all of the necessary things, but I don't think I ever was that great a mother. Better a parent than Lucius, yes, who believed in punishments involving illegal curses but still I don't deserve a mother of the year award.

Sometimes having a child was all right. I enjoyed buying him fancy robes and styling his hair, (he's still a fan of Mordred's Marvelous Hair Gel-Easy), but for the most part I strongly disliked the job.

What am I going on about? Me, the beautiful, strong, smart, powerful, radiant, Narcissa Malfoy is afraid of taking care of a nearly adult boy? Not me. If I can manage every personality under the moon then I can most certainly handle this.

And of course, the Malfoy fortune still remains at Gringotts, pounds upon pounds of galleons waiting at my disposal. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.