Non Serviam

Non Serviam

He was standing by the lake, staring out into the black water. His fingers fondled the parchment in his cloak, and for the first time in a long time, Draco let a real smile cross his lips.

His father was in Azkaban.

Not many people would be glad their fathers were in prison, but Draco was. His father…his father didn’t deserve to claim the last name Malfoy. The man was stupid enough to let himself get caught, stupid enough to proudly claim who he was, and was stuck in a dank cell for the rest of his life.

A stupid man who served a stupid lord with a grudge against a sixteen year old. Draco thought it was pathetic.

His mother hadn’t left her room for days. He could hear her crying, sometimes. Even with his father being the cruel man he was, his mother had loved him. Draco would never forget the way her face lit up when she saw him, or the complete despair he saw on it when she’d heard the news.

He loved his mother dearly, and this was why he hated Potter. It was his fault his mother was floating about like a specter, her eyes devoid of any light.

God, how he hated them both.

Lucius Malfoy

.

What a horrible name. Draco’s smile grew a bit wider. The son of a bitch was in prison. He couldn’t throw his son out into the snow anymore. Couldn’t poison his food to test if Draco was paying attention. Couldn’t raise him to pay allegiance to a lord who was petty and shallow. A lord who’s mission had changed from killing all the muggles and half bloods in the world (a pretty stupid ambition that would take years), to killing a sixteen year old boy who had a scar on his forehead. Just because he reflected a curse at the grand old age of one.

Well. Draco would not serve one such as that. Non serviam. The words on Lucifer’s banner when he went to war on God himself.

Non serviam

.

I will not serve.

Ginny watched from the shadows. She had come out to sit beneath the tree by the lake, to think. But her spot was taken already. Draco Malfoy stood at the edge of the water, smiling. Smiling. Not smirking, or sneering, or…well, anything else he did with his mouth.

She thought absently that he really was beautiful when he smiled. Then she wondered why he was smiling. His father had just been thrown in Azkaban. He’d blamed Harry for it, and Harry hadn’t denied it. He was furious his dad was in prison.

Right?

She was close enough to him that she heard him when he murmured "Non serviam." Ginny frowned. I will not serve. Fitting, for Draco Malfoy.

Ginny wanted to know what he was thinking about suddenly, wanted to talk to him.

She blinked. I’ve gone mad. I want to talk to Malfoy?

Ginny walked silently up to him, and stood at his elbow. She didn’t say anything, didn’t look at him, just stared at the water.

Draco turned. The weaselgirl was standing next to him. A Weasley. And Draco wasn’t hexing her, or insulting her, or generally making her life hell. His father would’ve gone ballistic.

Draco suppressed another smile.

"Weasley."

"Malfoy." Her voice was lowered, and she still wasn’t looking at him.

"What are you doing?" Draco asked, as if asking about the weather.

"Standing next to you."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, yes, but why?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

Draco’s eyebrows shot up. "That’s new. You want to talk to me?"

"Yes. I rather think I’ve gone round the bend."

"I think maybe you have."

"Yep."

"What did you want to talk to me about?"

Ginny looked at him. He had slanted his eyes towards her, and grey met brown in a searing glance.

Ginny swallowed. "I wanted-I wanted to know why you were smiling."

Draco stared at her in astonishment. "Why I was smiling?" Ginny nodded. "You want to know why I was smiling?!"

"Stop dancing around the subject." Ginny caught his eyes again. "Why?" Her voice had gone soft, and Draco was telling his mouth firmly not to move on pain of torture, but it seemed to like being defiant.

"Because I’m free."