Cruel Children's Chronicles: Draco

Cruel Children's Chronicles: Draco

Perfect

I'm a Malfoy, nothing is natural about me. For most people - I'm the son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Born and raised in spooky Malfoy Manor. 'Nobody' knows where the Manor is, but then again 'everybody' knows it's in Kent. Actually it's in bloody Somerset. If anybody knew that, it would be a disaster, as the most respected Dark Arts- supporter Lucius Malfoy could not live in happy Somerset. People would picture Lucius drinking tea with parents caring about their children, and me playing with their happy children. Sod that.

There used to be three of me. We were all created in a very unorthodox way, by Professor and Doctor Roman Parkinson. My Father and the father of Pansy Parkinson were as close as they could be without there being any talk of too- close relations, as my Father often hired him. Mr. Parkinson did about anything my Father wanted him to, and broke about all of the rules that were able to be broken, for a certain amount of money and dinners at our Manor. It was under one of these dinners my Father aired the idea he had for Mr. Parkinson.

My Father's idea was to create a person who, in his eyes, was a perfect heir. Mr. Parkinson said that it was highly possible, but very dangerous. He was the one saying the best idea was to make three, just to be sure that one of them would be as perfect as my Father wanted them to be. There was only one problem: The mission was doomed to fail if it didn't work the first time. This was, according to the very gifted Parkinson, because of the ingredients he had to use. Cloning yourself was completely out of the question as nobody intended to be caught, so Mr. Parkinson had to find another way. My Father paid a lot to make Mr. Parkinson do the task he had been given. Later on, it turned out, Parkinson would have done this all for free.

Of course, the plans were never shared with my Mother, who was quietly eating with them, only thinking about what she was to do after dinner. Probably go shopping with her pregnant best friend, Gemma Parkinson. Or perhaps trick her to come with her to a Death Eater meeting. My Mother was a cunning woman, but not cunning enough to know who was giving birth to three identical boys who were all loaded with Malfoy- genes. It would be like giving birth to three sons of Lucifer, without being the mother.

And it was not like she had a choice anyway. Only seven months after she got pregnant, three boys saw the world for the first time. Already then the race began. My Father named two of them, and my Mother named me. Of course my Father thought my name was ridiculous, childish and not a name any Malfoy should bear, but he agreed in the end. I was not exactly his favourite from the start, to tell you the truth. Oh no - my brothers were both in favour as he named them after old Malfoys who had all died in honour and for our future's sake. Fuck that, I'm forever grateful for not being named Cappelen or Mercuri, anway.

Of course, if it had been up to my Father, he would have expected us to participate in the first war, but as four month old boys can hardly sit by themselves, they most certainly can't cast spells. However, when the war ended, and my Father was in trial, he always brought one of us. Since we all looked identical, it was easy to do so without anyone starting to wonder about why the Malfoys brought three different boys to trial. It was probably here Mercuri lost his chance to become Heir of the Malfoy fortune. Mercuri was well known for having a sleeping head, and he fell a sleep under every trial he was a part of. My Father was outraged, and wanted to get rid of Mercuri before he even turned one.

It was Mr. Parkinson who stopped him, saying he should give Mercuri another chance. But then again, my Father had to decide before we all turned three. It was to be difficult to kill a person aged more than three, and the Ministry was keeping an extremely sharp eye at the Malfoy household these days.

But whenever my Father gave Mercuri a chance, or even more, Mercuri always blew it off. He never did as my Father demanded him to, and Cappelen always had to do it if Mercuri didn't want to. I was my Mother's child, and even if she knew she could not keep me, she tried to. Everytime she said that I and Cappelen could behave like twins, my Father said:

"Are you pulling a laugh, woman? We can't have twins, as I'm not going to make Cappelen have to share anything!" In other words, he had already decided to keep Cappelen. In the later years, I've realised that my Father probably didn't want any one of us to go. Perhaps he felt that we were all his sons, and a part of him. Not in a way were it required him to love any one of us, but I'm amazed he didn't sod Mercuri off before.

But he did decide one day. Mercuri had to go. This time he had spilled all of his food over my Father's dear book about the old Dark Arts from China. It was not just any food. It was pasta in ketchup, and after Mercuri had spilled it, he thought it was such a blast - so he had used his hand to make sure almost every page was ruined by the ketchup. As this book was centuries old, the paper had sucked the ketchup like water, and the letters were all a mess when my Father found Mercuri. Doomsday.

We had actually aged five when this incident happened. Even if Mercuri was a punk, he was cunning and clever. The only difference between us was the small necklaces we had. Mine was green, Mercuri's was blue and Cappelen's was grey. Cappelen was the prodigy, but not too sharp. He did as my Father demanded him to, but never anything more. He sat in a chair looking at pictures of birds - just like any three year old. But not when you're in a race of dying or being alive. He behaved around my Mother, but she was angry with both Cappelen and Mercuri as they were in my way of being the Heir. Cappelen tried to befriend me and Mercuri, but we didn't want to befriend anyone. That was what made me and Mercuri two nice pieces of Malfoys, and Cappelen the outcast. Friends were a weakness. Malfoys don't have any weaknesses. That's our thing.

The day when Mercuri was to be executed was a rainy day. I remember it, because it was to happen outside, and Cappelen and I were to witness it. The moral was probably the line: "Spill food, you get killed". That was how it worked in the Malfoy family. Make mistakes, you pay. I'll never forget the look of Cappelen that day. His eyes were narrowed, and his lips pursed together as if he were about to smile. Mercuri had been shouting all morning, and a spell had been put on him so he would be quiet. He now stood in the middle of a cage, looking terrified and horrified. It was like he could not believe it.

"Mercuri Malfoy," my Father said with the usual authority in his voice. "You have neglected the tasks you have been given in the Malfoy Manor, you have broken unbreakable rules and you have disappointed us all. We took you in with faith and open arms, but you did wrong again and again." Imagine, he's talking about a three year old here. "Therefore, I have sentenced you to death." Then he smirked the Lucius Malfoy way, and nodded towards a wizard with his face hidden. The wizard pointed a wand at Mercuri, and took away the spell that was cast at him. "Any last words, Mercuri?"

"I'm not Mercuri, Daddy!" the voice of Cappelen cried out.

"Oh, but you are," my Father said, "is it not blue what hangs around your neck?" Then, without listening anymore, he nodded again to the wizard who, with an easy wave, made Mercuri sleep an eternal sleep. "Cappelen." The boy next to me did not react. "Cappelen!" My Father sounded a little annoyed that his wonderboy did not move to his voice. "Cappelen!" The look on my Father's face was priceless. "Draco!" I raised my chin.

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Wake up Cappelen!" I turned quickly, just to look into the vivid eyes of Cappelen. They were like a snake's eyes, evil and full of venom. I turned back again to my Father.

"I can't do that, Daddy," I replied.

"What?!" My Father cried back. Outraged that both of his sons did not obey him, it looked like he was about to have a seizure.

"Cappelen is gone, Daddy," I said, feeling a cold hand reaching out for my neck. Cappelen's hands had always been warm, even if they were dipped in snow. It was not Cappelen who was standing next to me. Cappelen was laying next to a wizard who now had his face wet with rain, dead. Mercuri, on the other hand, was very alive.

"I'm just taking your jewellery too," his whispering voice said. "I will not hurt you." I froze, as my Father frowned, not knowing what to believe. I never heard the killing curse, just felt Mercuri's hands stiffen before he fell over me. Quickly I managed to get him off me, get to my feet and look around - ready for anything. I didn't have a wand, I didn't know too many spells, but my instincts said at least I should try to defend myself. Then I saw my Mother stand there with her wand, pointing at the body of Mercuri.

"Narcissa!" Poor Lucius Malfoy was too lost to believe anything anymore. His wife had killed what he thought was Cappelen, and back stood the average Draco. Not too good in anything, just plain Malfoy.

"What?" she replied. "He was touching my son."

"And that is a good enough reason to murder him? You put the killing curse on a three year old boy!" My Mother shrugged. "That's... That's..." Then my Father shrugged. "Well, fair enough." Then he was back into his angry self. "But you killed the Heir of the Malfoys!" My Mother didn't reply as she only looked at me, still standing guard in case anyone wished to kill me as well. Mr. Parkinson had ran over to my brother, and was now doing tests on him. He frowned every once in while, looked up in the air as if the answer was written in the rainy clouds, before he continued mixing potions on the boy's skin.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said standing up. "According to my earlier tests..."

"Yes?" my Father snapped.

"This is, well, not Cappelen. Not Draco either," the Professor said, and gave me a short glance. "It's... Mercuri."

After this, things got back to normal in the Malfoy Household. Well, normal in a Malfoy way. Of course, everything I did could have been done better if Cappelen had done it, and Cappelen would no doubt befriend Harry Potter within seconds. But I had no intentions of becoming a Cappelen clone. I had no competition, I had my Mother on my side and I would be a better enemy to anyone than Cappelen would have ever been.

Every day I get to bed knowing I was better than any of my brothers. I climb into bed, and reverse the spell I always put on my eyes when I wake up. A spell my Mother taught me years ago. I can't sleep with the spell on, because it will ruin my eyes. My narrow, red eyes. If my Father knew that his son was an albino, he would be outraged. My Mother used to comfort me and say: Nobody is perfect. Well guess what?

I'm fucking Nobody.