this book is sort of a project for me. it's the first story I've ever written, with dynamics I've never tried. it's been really hard, but I hope you'll join my on my writing journey :)
cover art by cassbutts on deviantart!
(Warning the first chapter...
(Update 2021) guys... I started this book in 2018, so if you're reading this, the first chapters are not good. I was VERY new to writing. It gets a lot better after chapter X. Like, if you read the first 5 chapters, and compared them to chapter XXI and XXII, it's a crazy hurdle lmao. I hope you can be patient with younger me :)
(UPDATE, 2019)
Hey!!! So I've had a few people ask for updates, and for any new readers, I just wanna remind you not to ask for updates. I'm writing this story for fun, and when I get stressed out about updating, it takes the fun completely out of it.
Of course, I'm glad if you like my story!! It's just a lot more fun writing on my own terms. :))
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From the moments I first knew Harry, he rejected me. For good reason, though. I was a little prat wasn't I? Throughout my entire life, I was a bully to him and his friends that always seemed to be by his side.
I always felt resentment towards the three of them. I try to tell myself it was my fathers' fault, but deep down I knew it was mine. Or at least partially.
My father taught me terrible things. He drilled lessons upon lessons about how higher up we were than our peers. Muggleborns- or mudbloods, as I used to call them- were basically dirt under our feet. Muggles were ants we were to stomp on.
I never rejected the thought. It was just common sense to me. The day he told me he worked for The Dark Lord himself, and he forced me to work along with him was the day my life turned upside down.
I never wanted to do any of the terrible things I did, but the thought of disappointing my father was an absolute horror. Along with that, disobeying The Dark Lord could land you horribly injured or dead.
As much as it pained me, I went along with Lord Voldemorts' plans. But when I was ordered to use the unforgivable curse on our headmaster, and retrieve the elder wand for him; I made it to the tower and faltered. I couldn't bring myself to kill the Headmaster, or any other person for that matter. Severus Snape had to do it in my hesitation.
It hurt. It hurt to see Headmaster Dumbledore fall from the tower to his death. It hurt to see Potters' horror, anguish, and anger towards me and Severus.
I'm sick of being a death eater.
I'm sicking of being a Malfoy.
I'm sick of being alive.
I just now remembered that Draco did not see Harry when Dumbledore was killed, but I don't want to get rid of it. So we'll just have to get used to it.
