My Redemption, My Salvation

I remember the day it began, the day my life changed beyond recognition forever. When I think of what could have been, I shudder. It would have been a cold, dark and lonely existence; I know because I've seen it. I've seen it all. I was never one to believe in fate before that day; after all a Malfoy's future was predetermined. For the story, let me start at the beginning and go from there, as that is a sensible place to start my story.

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My redemption began in the summer before my first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I was in the robe maker's having my school robes fitted when in walked another boy. He was a small, skinny kid with cello-taped glasses and messy black hair. Another Hogwarts student, I supposed. I didn't have a clue who he was. If I had, I wouldn't have spoken to him at all. Nevertheless, he caught my attention, but I didn't let that show. He intrigued me, captivated me, possessed me; but father would be back soon, so I adopted my usual attitude, stuck-up and snobby. I was, after all, a rich spoilt brat.

I learned that he was indeed going to Hogwarts too, because I heard the witch who fitted his robes ask him when he walked in. So, I told him all about how I knew I'd be in Slytherin (how wrong I was), mocked other houses, and finally upon seeing Hagrid, insulted non-humans and non-pureblood families. Back then I still believed all that. I believed what I was told to believe. Father still held me in his control. Yet still this boy was kind, even when it was clear I'd angered him. If I'd known then who he was, I'd never have talked to him, and my life would be finished by now. I would have been consumed by hate and then died serving Voldemort.

In the weeks before I started school, I couldn't forget the raven-haired boy I'd met in Diagon Alley. At night when I slept, messy black hair and green eyes invaded my dreams. The dreams were full of anger, hate filled words and most of all a deep, unending sadness. I never remembered those dreams fully, but I did remember those emotions and always, always those eyes watching me. Something in me hoped he would be placed in Slytherin, but from what I saw, he would not be. He was not the Slytherin type. If he had been Slytherin material, he would not have remained kind when I angered him. I hoped he would not be a Gryffindor, as Gryffindors and Slytherins were rivals. If he ended up in Gryffindor, I would have a tradition to uphold. It was then that a thought hit me. Why did I want to be in Slytherin at all? I knew the answer to that: because my father had told me I wanted to be in Slytherin. This thought scared me more than I liked so I put it out of my mind. Why did it scare me? Because I realized for the first time in my life that I did not know what I wanted.
Still, I could not get that raven-haired boy out of my mind. And then we met again on the train going to Hogwarts. I nearly screwed up badly.

I didn't know he was the famous Harry Potter I was supposed to despise, and when I found him he was with Ron Weasley, the youngest boy of a family of redheads who's father was a Ministry of Magic worker and that had altogether too many children to support. My father hated this family because they were poor, ''A disgrace to the name witch and wizard,'' he always said. And so I of course was told to hate them too. I had two of my "friends" with me in the forms of Crabbe and Goyle, who would report anything unbefitting the behavior of a Malfoy to my father. This would include being friendly to inferiors like Mudbloods, squibs, and basically any witch or wizard who was not pureblooded. Again, I did as I was told and let my father's opinion be my own. After all, Harry Potter was meant to be the antithesis of all my family believed in, of all we stood for. The Malfoy's were the ever-faithful servants of the Dark Lord himself. But I had been told to try to befriend Potter once at school, why I did not know (as I also was told to hate him), something or other for the greater good of the dark side probably. So I offered him my hand, telling him I could help him tell the "wrong sort" when it came to wizarding families and who to make friends with. Looking pointedly at Weasley indicated he was considered the wrong sort.

That could have cost me dearly, as he had become good friends with Weasley on that journey, and after that he became cool towards me. I then decided to be nasty as I could. I mean, I wasn't used to being rejected. I was used to getting everything I wanted. I've already told you I was a spoilt brat. So I threatened him and tried to steal what food he had left. It was all I could think of to do at the time; after all, I did not want to get myself expelled before term even started. I would have done it too, if Ron's rat hadn't latched onto Goyle's finger. We left not soon after, but I couldn't help but feel terrible for the way I'd treated those two, and glad that Goyle got his just deserts. I was confused, so confused. Things should have been the other way round; I should have been pleased that I had upset Potter and Weasley and upset for Goyle being bitten. What was wrong with me? Feeling sorry for anyone was not supposed to be part of my nature! I was a Malfoy; I was going to be a Slytherin and "Slytherins Care Only For Themselves!" After we left the compartment, I became lost within my thoughts.

Again the question of why I wanted to be in Slytherin kept nagging at a corner of my mind, and to tell you the truth, I realized even more that I didn't know what house I wanted to be in. Then a little voice right at the back of my mind piped up, "Maybe you don't want to be in Slytherin at all. Maybe you never did."

The reality hit me hard, and if I hadn't already been sitting down my knees would have given way. "I'm a Malfoy. Every Malfoy wants to be a Slytherin," I told myself before I closed my eyes and slept for the rest of the trip to school. Again my dreams were filled with messy black hair and mesmerizing green eyes. There was a big part of me that wanted to be like him. From what I had seen, he was kind and would fight for what he believed in. He was loyal it seemed and also brave. I wanted to be like that.

I was awakened by my two bodyguards, and once off the train, we were called over to Hagrid to complete the customary first year boat ride to the castle. We all climbed into a boat in groups of four and set off across the lake. The water was glassy and totally calm, though the wind had a slight chill to it that made me shiver and pull my cloak more tightly around me. Then, in the distance, the Hogwarts Castle looming in our view, and many awed "ohs" and "ahs" could be heard. The castle was truly a spectacular sight.  Its many turrets and towers could be seen by the light of the nearly full moon. Lights shone from many of the windows, and I got a homely feel from the place, much more than I had ever had from Malfoy manor.

Once out of the boat, I looked at Hagrid. "Honestly, just look at the great oaf. He just shouldn't be allowed near us. I'm going to write to my father about him," I commented to Crabbe and Goyle, but my words lacked conviction. This surprised me, and lucky for me, the other two were too stupid to pick up on it. I then turned and found myself being pinned by two death glares. I was standing right in front of Potter and Weasley, and both looked mad as hell, but something in me just couldn't glare back, so I smirked and turned away. While I had been in the boat taking us to the castle, I had started to think again and that annoying voice in the back of my mind had once again spoken up, this time to say, "You don't want to be in Slytherin at all, and you know it!"

Then we were on the move again, walking in a chattering gaggle through the grounds and up the front steps of the castle where we were met by a very strict looking witch with square glasses and hair pulled back in a tight bun. "Welcome, new first years, to Hogwarts. My name is Professor McGonagall. I am the deputy headmistress, transfiguration professor and head of Gryffindor House. We have high expectations of our pupils, and as to this fact, for every glory you will receive points for your House. For every indiscretion, and I hope there will be few, points will be taken from your House. During your years at Hogwarts, your House is your family, so treat them well." She spoke in a stern, clipped manner and it was clear that this was one professor you did not want to cross. Professor McGonagall then turned on her heel and led us into a small room off the side of the main hall, and turned to leave saying over her shoulder, "I will be back for you all in a minute, we aren't ready for you yet. I suggest you make yourselves as presentable as possible and wait quietly." With this, she was gone.

General muttering and shuffling started then as we all straightened our robes and tried to flatten out wind-swept hair. Suddenly I heard a scream and looked up to see many pearly-white, translucent figures enter the room through the opposite wall. They were the Hogwarts ghosts. Just then, Professor McGonagall entered and led us into the halls in twos. The line followed in silence and assembled at the front of the hall. Once we had all entered, Professor McGonagall explained the sorting ceremony to us and began.

It was then it happened. When I was called up, I waited for the inevitable cry of "SLYTHERIN!" but it never came. I knew by then that I never truly wanted it to. I had wanted to be in Slytherin because I was told I wanted to be in Slytherin. And I also knew what became of most Slytherins, and it was horrible.

The sorting hat was the most unremarkable thing I had ever seen. It was frayed and dirty and had been patched here and there. I sat on the little rickety three-legged stool and the hat was placed on my head. "Ah, another Malfoy heir I see," the hat muttered in my ear. "But... So unlike the others I've met. Oh don't get me wrong, you used to be like every other Malfoy I've ever sorted, up until really recently too, but no longer." I remember being torn. I didn't want to be in Slytherin, I knew that for certain now, but father would be livid if I wasn't in Slytherin. I would be breaking the family tradition after all. "You no longer have the evil cunning or maliciousness. No, I can't possibly put you in Slytherin. No, instead you'll be in...GRYFFINDOR!"

The last was shouted out and the hall went silent as I went to take a seat at the house table. I don't think a single student or teacher knew what to think. I was in shock and scared of what would happen when my father found out, but when I reached the table I was welcomed. Admittedly, it was with a slight sense of skepticism, but I was welcomed all the same.

Then it was Potter's turn, and he too became a Gryffindor. What happened next I truly never expected. Potter sat down next to me and I apologized to him. I said "Look Potter, this started out badly. Can we please try again? To be friends that is," Potter looked straight at me with those eyes then, the eyes that haunted my dreams. I felt like he was searching for some sign of dishonesty. "I don't really see why I should. You insulted me and my friends." My heart sank at Potter's words, but hope was rekindled when he went on to say, "But okay. Let's give it a go. You're on your second chance, though. Oh, and one other thing, its Harry not Potter." I understood his point of view. Weasley must have told him of my family history, my rather colorful family history. I offered him my hand again, and this time he took it. I felt something pass between us like an electric current. From that moment, I knew that I was no longer the person I had been and I was glad for it. For the first time ever, I saw who I had been and I hated it.

I turned then and offered my hand to Weasley, but he refused it still and looked both wary and more than a little skeptical. The insults I had lain on him on the train were still fresh in his mind. That hurt, but I knew I'd work around it; all my old relationships were gone. They were forged out of need, not out of amenity at all. Crabbe and Goyle were the only "friends" I had gone to Hogwarts with, and they were both in Slytherin. No Slytherin would tolerate a Gryffindor friend. "Look, Malfoy, Harry here may be prepared to forgive and forget but I'm not. You should be in Slytherin where you belong," Weasley said. As he was talking, he had gradually grown redder and redder and looked about ready to kill so I just nodded and turned my attention to the teachers' table. The Weasley family had a reputation for having a fiery temper and I didn't want to be on the receiving end of it, so I didn't push him any further.

During the feast I gazed over at the Slytherin table and in return received looks of pure venom and hatred, so I turned back to my own House. I studied the people sitting around me. Across from me was a girl with frizzy brown hair and slight buckteeth who was talking with a prefect with red hair who could only be another Weasley. The girl seemed to like her books, as she was talking about all the books she had read since getting her Hogwarts letter. She seemed to be a great know-it-all, though. Next to me were a set of twins, who were again obviously Weasleys, the red hair are freckles gave it away. Both of the twins were shooting me curious yet disgruntled looks. All in all, the Gryffindors looked like a pretty alright bunch. The food was amazing too; I was not used to being able to eat what I fancied. At home, I always had to have what mother and father wanted, or go without. I had little bits of everything. At the end of the meal all remnants of the food simply melted away and the Headmaster again called for our attention. We were asked to sing the school song and then dismissed for the night.

After the feast was over, we were taken to our new house dorms and it hit me full force. I was in the House I had been raised to hate, that I had been taught was inferior. I was supposed to be a Slytherin. I sighed at that, it was Father talking again. I started to feel angry then. Everything came back to what Father thought. I didn't even know my own mind. I didn't understand why I wasn't in Slytherin, but I didn't care. I was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin, and I found I was happy about it. I felt that in Gryffindor I might be able to find out who Draco Malfoy actually was, not just who he was told to be.

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[A/N: the song and a little of the dialogue in this dream came directly from the book, and are the sole property of JKR]

That night, I had a dream.

"Move along now," a voice said. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

We formed a line and trooped into the great hall in a two rows. The whole school was assembled as we walked in. The sorting hat was placed on a stool in front of us. The sorting hat was patched and dirty and the stool was rickety. There was much nervous chatter from us and odd comments from the already seated students. Everyone watched the sorting hat as if waiting for something to happen, and it did. A mouth-like rear near the brim opened up and the hat started to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So, put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The school applauded the hat, and then Professor McGonagall stood up and started to read off names from a scroll. When my name was called, I swaggered up to the stool and barely had the hat touched my head when it screamed "SLYTHERIN!" and I went to join Crabbe and Goyle with a self-satisfied smirk on my face. Then I heard it: "Potter, Harry," and a ripple went through the Hall. I watched with detached interest, hoping that the hat would shout, "SLYTHERIN!"
I could see the boy mouthing the words, "Not Slytherin, not Slytherin," and at last the hat shouted out, "GRYFFINDOR!". I watched as he went to join the Gryffindor table, to be greeted with great warmth I had not received from my own house. That moment I felt hate so deep it overtook me, and I vowed to make his life, and that of his friends, as miserable I could while he was at school.

After the feast, we were led down to the dungeons and to our dorms. The room we entered was low, long and cold with green lights hanging from the ceiling. This was the Slytherin common room. I did not like this place but from there, I was directed to my dorm rooms. In the room marked "1st years," I saw five beds surrounded by green and silver drapes. On the chair next to the bed next to which my trunk was stowed was my new uniform in the colors of Slytherin and bearing the crest of the Slytherin serpent.

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I woke up with a start and looked around me, tense and unsure of where I was. All around was scarlet and gold, and the uniform on the chair beside my bed had the scarlet and gold of Gryffindor and it had the crest of the Gryffindor lion, instead of the silver and green of Slytherin, and the serpent. I was relieved to find that it was just a dream after all.

At breakfast the next day I was chatting nervously with my new friends about what we thought lessons were going to be like, what our first impressions of the school were, and what our first impressions of the professors were. While we were talking, Professor McGonagall came over to me and asked me to follow her immediately to the Headmaster's office. I feared that there was some mistake after all, and I was to be transferred into Slytherin. Just the thought of that disgusted me now. I felt that for once in my life I belonged, and where I belonged was in Gryffindor.

As we reached a stone gargoyle, she looked down and gave me what seemed to be a reassuring smile. She uttered a password and we ascend a winding spiral staircase. As we rose higher and higher, so did my nerves. Once at the top, we passed through a door and into a spacious circular room with a large desk and many other interesting things like shelves with many whirring silver instruments. The sorting hat sat on a shelf behind the Headmaster. Behind the desk sat the Headmaster himself, and in a chair facing him...

"Father."