Draco's Revenge

"I'm going to make you pay for what you've done to my father."

-Draco Malfoy

Revenge. The sweetest, coldest, sharpest, most terribly beautiful word to escape these pureblood lips. A word so longing, so deadly powerful, it keeps me up to no end during the desolate nights of the past and present. For the few who have it all end up losing everything. What used to be my grand manor of a home is now just a wretched ruin of which scum lives and evil breeds. My own father has been thrown ruthlessly into a prison where sightless guards never sleep. A prison in which everyone is driven mad within days and death is something one longs for desperately. My mother is in ruins, through her once beautifully cunning eyes there is now a deep, desolate, black void. Demons constantly haunt her sleep, if you could even call it sleep these days. The name Malfoy, a name always commanding respect, an old, pure name with no faults, is now just filth, just a diseased wad of spit one passes on a dingy sidewalk while rain spatters outside of your black umbrella. But even worse, yes, probably the most sickening twist to the devastating events of recent past has not been mentioned. For behind the ruins of what was once a noble family lies the plot of a mentally deranged boy. Yes, if it wasn't for Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing any of this right now. Let me take you back to how it was, how things happened, and how our family could have been saved if only I had seen.

~

In our first year, I was a content Draco. Nothing yet had happened to my life, and I wasn't expecting Harry Potter to change that. So what if he was a total I'm-Glad-To-Be-Gryffindor prat who despised me beyond all reason? I can deal with that, in fact I deal with it every day. He annoyed me to no end, but I got my revenge countless times. I was so absorbed in all of my greatness that I didn't see it coming. He started to use me, the bloody bastard, you see, that day I had tried to get him in trouble by provoking him into flying a broomstick when he shouldn't have, he took the opportunity to show off in front of a Gryffindor teacher so that he'd make the team and bragging rights. But, alas, it wasn't enough to fill Potter's curse impaired head. By the end of the year he had played hero, claiming to have defended the sorcerer's stone from the dark lord. It was... quite odd that Nicholas Flamel died a few months later, but I don't think that had anything to do with Potter; he just got lucky with his story. Though as time went by, the stories became reality and if it weren't for his strange and twisted luck he'd be dead and I'd be something close to happy. In fact, he almost killed himself with his stupidity a few gloriously beautiful times. In second year he was dumb enough to tamper with a bludger. Dear god Potter... not even Crabbe and Goyle are that thick... anyways, I'm betting that he was trying to get the bludger to catch everyone's attention while he caught the snitch. He sure caught everyone's attention, as the balls were released a bludger went straight for Harry. Seems he made a mistake while tampering with the bludger, who'd have guessed? Though I daresay his plan worked, he broke his arm and the memory of watching him fly for his life while being mutilated by his own spell still amuses me to no end. Later that year he broke his way into the Chamber of Secrets in an obvious attempt for more glory, fame, and attention. Didn't he realize that it was an obvious trap? For, yes, I know about Riddle's diary (it's on my dresser at the moment) and Riddle led him there, all the clues, taking Ron's sister into the chamber, but apparently it didn't register in Potter's impaired mind that he was walking into the lair of Slytherin himself. He would've died a horrible, painful death if it weren't for Dumbledore's phoenix... Damn his twisted lucky streak! And what's more, that night he had to go and free one of OUR house elves! We've long since replaced him, but he knows things about our family that could make Ron's hair go blonde. His blind stupidity almost killed him again the next year, what with him befriending werewolves and trusting a mass murderer (though I tolerate my father I'm not stupid enough to trust him) But enough about that year, enough with all the blind details, I will move more quickly now, as I am getting impatient. In our fourth year all hell broke loose as Harry became a "Triwizard Champion". But that's not important now. What's important is that in our fourth year he brought the Dark Lord back. Don't ask me how, for not even I know what took place that fateful night that He returned to us. More will be explained later, when it needs to be explained, but for now I'll only tell you that Harry saw my father that night. No one believed him at the time, of course, as there was no proof that He had risen yet again, who was going to take the word of a mere curse impaired boy who had just been through a traumatic accident? For a year no one did. But then his damn twisted lucky streak came into effect on (of course) the night where my father was supposed to kill him. Dumbledore came to the rescue yet again, and the whole ministry was informed of Voldemort's return, Harry Potter was the hero, etc. etc. Things happened suddenly after that. My father was thrown into Azkaban, and my mother deteriorated in front of my eyes. The name Malfoy became scum, and we are no longer prospering in our nobility. We are completely ruined, and it's all because of Potter. Yet he overlooked one thing, yes, one thing that can and will ruin him. For I am still standing.