Memoirs of a Serpent's Son

[Author's Note]: I have absolutely NO self-control so I'm posting this early. I normally would wait for more reviews, just to make sure people still want to read it, but I cannot help myself this time around, so I hope you all don't mind!

Memoirs of a Serpent’s Son

--Age 13—part 1

Summer

Once again, it’s been an overly dull summer and the rest of it doesn’t seem to promising either. I finished all my summer assignments in the first week of break, why Mother and Father were in the North of England. I don’t know what they were doing, but they had already been gone when I arrived back at home at the end of term.

By the time they had returned, however, I’d just started experiencing the symptoms of what the family nurse called ‘puberty’. Apparently this is something that happens around age thirteen (depending on the case) and goes on throughout all the teen years until you hit twenty or so. Supposedly a time of growth and maturation that –somehow –the Muggles have managed to name more aptly than any wizard could. Which might explain why I feel this way about the whole ordeal.

It’s Hell.

My voice is breaking and jumps in pitch every time I talk, without fail. I can’t speak the same way I used to! That causes a huge problem because half of my identity is in my characteristic DRAWL. No one can pull it off like I can, but even I won’t be able to pull it off if my voice keeps jumping octaves the way it is.

To make matters worse, my face, my beautiful face, is being tainted with these hideous little red bumps. There was only one tiny one at first, but more and more are popping up and I CANNOT stand for that. I spent so much time, looking in the mirror and desperately trying to understand what disease I had inadvertently caught before going to talk to the Nurse.

Luckily, she gave me an old Malfoy Family Recipe to deal with the more troublesome symptoms of puberty. I take this ghastly potion once a week and my voice evens out and the horrendous bumps on my face disappear. I love magic.

The problem, however, lies in the other symptom that the potion does NOT affect. I don’t really want to talk about that, since it’s not really proper conversation for…. well anywhere, but all I have to say is that I’ve been struck with these…urges to….relieve myself… and they always come at the most inopportune times! Honestly, at dinner, when I’m riding my broomstick, while I’m reading, when Father has guests over… even while I sleep!! There is no escaping it!

It even happens when I try to make myself angry and think of Potter. Damn prat, he’s even found a way to aggravate me without my being in his presence.

In any case, I refuse to discuss THAT with the Nurse. There is NO way that will happen.

At the very least this “puberty” thing has resulted in SOME good things. I’ve grown several inches in the past month or so and the Nurse claims that it will continue on that way until I’m around eighteen. By the end, I may be taller than Father.

That doesn’t matter to me though. What matters is that now I’m surely taller than Potter is. I can look down on him properly now and have a whole new range of options open to me for teasing him.

Unless he’s grown as well…

I’ve also apparently changed a bit in appearance. Mother and Father tell me I’m becoming more and more handsome every day. I’d like to believe that but I can’t be sure. They are my parents, after all, so they may simply be flattering me.

Then again… they are MY parents…which would likely mean the opposite.

I wonder if Potter has changed… if he’s gotten taller…or filled out his frame more…

WHAT.

SCRATCH THAT.

Damn ink.

Ok ok ok, never mind that.

Back to things of real importance.

The Daily Prophet has begun reporting about the miraculous escape of mass murderer Sirius Black. No one has any idea how he’s managed to escape Azkaban, because no one has ever done it before. Not with the Dementors there. Those bloody creatures scare the living hell out of me. Though I don’t know anyone who isn’t frightened of them.

The point is, he’s escaped and now on the loose. The Ministry won’t admit to why they think he’s escaped, or rather what he’s going to do now that he’s out but Father has ideas.

He explained to me the whole history behind Sirius Black. He said that the rumor is that Black was the Secret Keeper for the Potters and so he’s why Potter’s parents are dead. The whole world apparently believes that he’s the one who lead You-Know-Who to the Potters. Then he ran after a friend of his, or something foolish like that, and killed him along with something like twelve Muggles before they caught him.

I thought it was rather amusing that he’d murdered that many Muggles in one go, but Father said that it’s not appropriate for me to go around boasting about that.

He also said that Black is related to us, though distantly. He’s Mother’s cousin and so, technically, my second cousin. Or third cousin. I’ve no idea really, but he’s related to me.

I asked Father why we don’t do something to help him if he is our family and such a powerful wizard and Father slapped me. He said that we cannot afford to be offering charity to criminals and that we have our own reputations to worry about.

He also said something about Black not being who everyone thinks he is, but I don’t know what he meant by that.

I suppose, though, that he’s broken out to get to Potter. Seems logical, doesn’t it? If he was such a great supporter of You-Know-Who, then he’d surely want Potter dead…

I wonder if Potter knows any of this…

*****

September 1

I took the train back to Hogwarts today. As usual. Spent most of the time in my own little compartment with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy and her friend. Pansy couldn’t stop fawning over me and how much I’ve grown. “You’ve shaped out so well, Draco! This tall and strong look really suits you so well!” she’d keep saying. Always in different words as though the first time it wasn’t worded properly.

I just took the compliments and decided to not snap at her and tell her to shut her mouth. That may not have gone over so well, I don’t think. I just waited it out, winking to Crabbe and Goyle every so often, just to make it look good. Father impressed upon me the importance of having a relationship like this one with an adequate pure-blooded girl. He said that appearances are almost always more important that personal preference.

It seemed as though he was trying to hint at something, but I couldn’t pick up on what. Father was always the only person I’d never been able to understand clearly. He likes to speak in riddles of sorts, or simply refuses to explain himself fully.

Whatever.

I decided that I needed to get some air and left her and her friend alone in the compartment. We walked along the train until I found what I was looking for. Potter was sitting with his two followers, as per usual.

I opened the door and said something only mildly clever before they were both already on their feet to face me. I smirked at seeing Potter. He had grown but not nearly as much as I had. I felt a little better about the whole “puberty” thing right then. But then I noticed the big sleeping lump of clothes in the corner.

Apparently he’s a new professor, according to the all-knowing Potter. I stared at the thing in the corner for a while, trying to figure out what exactly it was. If that was a new professor, than why was he traveling on the train with the students?

I realized it was probably because he couldn’t afford to get there any other way, judging by the look of his robes.

But either way, I’m not a fool. I wasn’t going to start anything with Potter when there was a potential professor sitting so near. I stared at Scarhead for a moment or two before leaving with Crabbe and Goyle.

It was really a waste of time. Potter didn’t even say hello, or ask about my summer. He hardly said a word, even, he just glared at me. For all he knew I was going to call a truce with him and suggest we be friends! Honestly, he assumes things too quickly.

The little git.

Ha, ha, little. He really is still ‘little’. I love it.

Anyway, before I’d even gotten back to my compartment, the train stopped on the tracks and the worst possible thing happened. Dementors infiltrated the cars, looking into every compartment. I ran from them into the closest compartment (which happened to be the one that the Weasel-twins were in). They seemed a little surprised at the expression on my face but they could never know what happens to me when Dementors come.

I relive all the worst moments in my life and instead of just feeling the sadness, I feel all the pain as well. Every single time my father…punished me. Every single time.

Then all the other things that he did to me to teach me lessons…

I can’t bear to go through those.

The Dementors came into the car for only a moment. One did anyway. It sucked out everything positive from the room and left me with my agonizing memories. I hunched over into myself and tried to clutch my robes as though that might help keep me warm and happy. I felt weak and the pain surged again.

As soon as the Dementor left, I ran from the compartment and back to my own. Pansy started swooning right away. She said she’d been worried about me while I was gone and hoped that I was ok. She checked my forehead and all and said I looked pale… well paler than usual. I brushed it off and changed the subject.

All I could think of was Potter and what he might have done had I still been in HIS compartment when the Dementor came… I couldn’t give him that kind of advantage…not to see me so weak and pained.

Never.

When we got to Hogwarts finally, mind you, I overheard from a group of giggling girls that Potter had fainted from the Dementor…. He’d actually FAINTED.

I couldn’t believe it. I mean I though my reactions to them were bad, but I’d never fainted before!

I ran up to him to block his way into the castle and asked him if it was true. I laughed and made some snide comments about the whole idea of it but I got cut off by the ‘new professor’ who came to check up on the situation. I glared at him.

He was even more shabby-looking when he was awake! Scars all over his face, his clothes tattered and his suitcase coming apart at the seams. Father always told me to look down on people like him. If they can’t even make the effort to look presentable, then why should I respect them?

Then Potter occurred to me. He was always a mess too.

Not in uniform. His clothes were always relatively clean and pressed, but his hair…

His hair is always a mess of black locks around his eyes and sticking out in strange places. The kind of hair you just want to run your fingers through… to ruffle it and see what happens.

You know, because it’s such a mess and so terribly unruly.

Yeah.

In the feast, we found out that the professor that Potter had been with on the train was actually professor R.J. Lupin and was teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. Figures. It’s as though they person they hire gets worse and worse each year. Next they’ll have that oaf Hagrid teaching it.

Oh. Spoke too soon.

He’s too busy teaching CARE OF MAGICAL CREATURES.

Dumbledore is mad. Absolutely insane. Off his rocker. There is no way that a SANE person could hire HAGRID as ANY kind of professor at Hogwarts, LET ALONE Care of Magical Creatures.

That class is going to be bloody pointless. I can’t believe it.

Potter seemed to be happy about it though. He looked shocked but overjoyed that his stupid friend was going to take our educations into his massive hands. Right. Great work.

I feel like hitting him upside the head just to see if it does anything. He’s clearly not sane either. Not that I ever thought he was, really. He does continuously reject me, remember?

Who would do that if they are mentally stable? I mean… just LOOK at me.

Why doesn’t he ever look at me?

*****

The Following Written in Invisible Ink

It’s four o’clock in the morning. I had a dream that jerked me awake and won’t let me back to sleep again. I… it was so much worse than the last one. SO MUCH WORSE.

Remember I said that I get those…. urges… while I’m sleeping? Well this time, the urge came with a dream and I’m really not alright with the whole thing. I’m going to write it down here, again, so that hopefully I’ll be able to get back to sleep and forget about the whole thing. I’m purging it from my mind after this. Yes.

Ok here goes.

I was walking down the car in the train and I came to Potter’s compartment, but this time, Potter’s people weren’t with him. He was alone. No mudblood, no Weasel, no professor R.J. Lupin, no one. I opened the door and stepped in and made a comment to him, but it was different than the one I had said. I don’t know what it is I said even. I can’t remember the words…

Then Potter turned around and looked at me. He got to his feet and kept on staring. His eyes were so bright and wide, it felt as though they were boring into my soul and tearing me apart. He didn’t say anything for a long time, and I just remember feeling as though we were staring at one another in silence for ages… hours… days…who knows.

Then I stepped forwards to him and he smiled at me. But it wasn’t a mischievous smirk. It wasn’t even sarcastic. It was genuinely a smile…as though he was happy to see me. He took a step towards me as well and wrapped his arms around me. He ran his hands over my shoulders and back, gripping me tightly. I brought my own arms around him too and pulled him against me, still staring into his eyes.

He didn’t say a word but his smile faded a bit. I couldn’t figure out why but he leaned into me and brushed his lips over my cheek. I felt my heart stop as he lingered near my ear, then turned his head again to kiss my cheek, but I turned my head to him and caught his mouth.

We stood there, holding each other and kissing, as though everything was right. His lips were so soft but I couldn’t really feel his body. I couldn’t feel anything but the hot wave that passed over me.

And then I snapped out of my sleep, breathing hard. I looked around myself and everyone else was sleeping. The room was still pitch black and I lifted my covers to realize that I had… soiled them, I suppose is the best way to put that.

I did it to… kissing Potter.

I dreamt of kissing Potter and I… I…

What is wrong with me??

-----IIIII-----

A/N: I love his perspective on puberty. Anyway, Draco’s problems are only going to get worse! Much much worse hehehe. He’s still young, so I figure that just a little kiss would… affect him enough ^^ But there will be more. Third year promises to be split into several parts (it seems) because there will be more added pieces, so I hope you all enjoy it and don’t mind!!

Love for reviewers! Though still, reviews promise posts ^_^