A Reason To Be

At lunch, Pansy glared down the row of kids at Draco. Her, Millicent, Crabbe and Goyle were seated in their normal place at the Slytherin table. Draco had vacated his normal place and now was sitting near the far end of the table. What made this even stranger was that he was now surrounded by first years and he had chosen to be there. Harry and the gang were picking at the remains of their lunch and were casually observing the other students in the Great Hall. Their gaze finally rested upon Pansy Parkinson and Ron commented sarcastically on her unparallel beauty.

Then they followed the line of her steely gaze and found Draco Malfoy. The sixth year student and villain to almost every other student at Hogwarts, be they in Slytherin house or no, was eating his lunch and nodding at whatever the young, Slytherin boy was saying to him. The boy had a book open and was speaking to Draco. Draco kept eating, occasionally nodding and shaking his head and pointing at something in the textbook.

“Is that not the weirdest thing you have ever seen?” Ron commented laughingly. The other two laughed as well and chimed in with agreement. They watched a bit longer then got up, still laughing, and made their way to their next classes. When they had made it past the Slytherin table, Draco looked up and stared unpleasantly after them. He knew they had been watching him and had been laughing. He only had to guess as to what they were laughing about.

‘Yeah, laugh it up Gryffindorks. I doubt you’d sit with Pansy either.’ Draco grumbled to himself. Then he got up himself and breezed his way out of the hall and off to Divination class.


Malfoy leaned back against the wall as he listened to Firenze lecture. When Firenze had taken over the Divination lessons at Hogwarts, his classroom had been converted to look like the forest. Therefore there were no tables and chairs, only trees, rocks and moss to furnish the room. The centaur explained that though he thought it was extremely foolish, Dumbledore had requested that they also explore the ‘human’ methods of divination as well. Firenze told the students to pair off with a student of a different house as he had tarot decks passed out to each group.

“I am sure you are all aware of how to use these human cards, so begin immediately when you receive them.” Firenze instructed. Then he went to the front of the class and sat himself down on a bed of moss to observe.

Draco had been paired with Lavender Brown from Gryffindor house. The look on her face made it extremely obvious that she was just as thrilled about the pairing as he was. They sat opposite one another on the ground and silently, Draco picked up the deck and began shuffling. He offered the deck to Lavender, from which she selected three cards and laid them down in front of her. She waited as Draco flipped each over in turn and began to study them. His chin had been rested in his hand as he read the cards and now a slight frown came across his face and he tapped a finger against his lips.

“What?” Lavender asked casually. She really didn’t believe Draco was capable of giving an accurate reading. He remained silent for a few more minutes and then finally spoke up.

“Your mother is ill.” Draco stated matter-of-factly. Lavender raised an eyebrow at his statement. This was in fact true.

‘Lucky guess, he couldn’t really know that my mother’s health.’ Lavender thought to herself, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Yes she is. A lucky guess, Malfoy.” Lavender countered.

“No, she is really sick. It’s worse now.” Draco explained with a somewhat annoyed tone.
‘What? She doesn’t believe me? I’m not some idiot; I know what I am doing! I see this as plain as day!’ Draco thought angrily to himself. Then his anger started to melt away when he saw Lavender’s face. She was trying to disguise it but she was worried about her mother.

“Go home this weekend; she won’t be ill for much longer… Do you understand?” Draco said softly, he gave her a stern look. He tried to tell Lavender that her mother was dying without actually saying it out loud. After a moment of eye contact with Draco, Lavender weakly nodded her head. The rest of the class went quietly. Lavender read for Draco; saying that he should try and be more patient. He nodded, dismissed what she told him and waited for the end of class.



Hermione sat in a large, comfy chair near the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Nearby, on the sofa, Harry and Ron played a game of wizard chess. She was reading ahead in one of her textbooks. As she read, small slivers of wood flew over and landed on her lap.

“Ron! Take it easy over there!” Hermione exclaimed, brushing the pieces of what used to be Ron’s bishop from her book.

“Sorry Hermione, my queen got a little over-zealous.” Harry laughed. He bent down and started picking up the pieces of the bishop. After a moment Hermione laughed as well. She settled back down and closed her book.

‘This is the book Malfoy picked up and gave to me. Wow that was a while ago; more than a week. He hasn’t even cast an evil glare in my direction since, not even in Harry’s direction either.’ Hermione thought as she stared at the cover of her book. A few moments later, Lavender Brown came out of her room. She had her trunk in tow and looked less than happy.

“Hey Lavender, what is going on?” Hermione asked, putting her book aside and standing up. Harry and Ron stood up too, just as curious as to why Lavender was dragging her belongings out of her room.

“Hi guys. I’m going home for a little while, my mum is really sick and I want to be with her.” Lavender explained sadly. A worried expression came across Hermione’s face.

“Oh, I’m sorry Lavender. Did you get an owl or something?” Harry asked gently. Lavender shook her head. They could tell that she was getting a little teary eyed.

“I got an owl an hour ago confirming what Malfoy told me in Divination class. He told me to go home because there was not a lot of time left. So that’s what I am doing.” Lavender explained as he grabbed the handle of her trunk again and made her way to the door.

“Malfoy? Ummm…Lavender, I don’t think you should put too much trust into what Malfoy says. He is the kind of bastard that would say something like that just because he thought it was funny.” Harry ventured to say as he moved closer to Lavender.

“Maybe, but I don’t think so. He was serious, and he wasn’t mean about it. And now the owl my dad just sent me…” Lavender replied. After a moment, Ron nodded and offered to help Lavender with her trunk. When the two of them left, Hermione and Harry sat down and looked at each other, both with a somewhat confused look on their faces.

“Yeah…So is it just me or did that sound like Draco Malfoy doing a good deed?” Hermione dared to ask. Harry did not answer right away; he was still pondering what had happened.

“I think you might be right, and if you are…that’s really fucking creepy.”



Draco sat quietly in the dark bedroom. He was lying on his bed; hands folded on his stomach and stared up at the ceiling. He really didn’t see the ceiling; he stared at the memories that were playing out in front of him. This often happened when he was in his room. He would try to read or sleep but it was inevitable; his thoughts would always wander back to his father. His memories were so vivid; it seemed to Draco that it was almost like a play, he could see actors as real as he was playing out the scene before him. He knew these actors far too well.

“Draco! Come over here now, boy!” Lucius shouted sternly at the young boy. The man had brought his son to London for what his father affectionately referred to as ‘Muggle hunting.’ Draco had watched in the shadows of the alley while his father had found a small family of Muggles, drew them into the dark alley, and proceeded to visit upon them any torture he could devise. Curse after curse had driven these poor, unsuspecting people to the ground in pain.

Lucius killed the husband first. Not with something as simple and quick as the Killing Curse. No, he had used the Cruciatus Curse until the man’s body gave up and died. The wife, after the rape, had been levitated and thrown again the stone wall of the building until her neck snapped. Draco’s father had insisted that he be right there, observing everything his father did. The young boy was silent; his eyes never left his father’s victims. Not because he enjoyed what he saw but because it was horrifying and gut-wrenching and he had retreated into himself at the sight. When the man and woman were dead, Lucius tidied himself and turned and began walking back onto the street. Obviously he had thought abandoning the couple’s baby to the elements would be painful enough death for the infant. Draco heard his father’s words and heard his footsteps traveling away from him but he didn’t move. Draco did not take his eyes from the baby bawling on the cold concrete.

‘His mum and dad have abandoned him and he doesn’t know why.’ Draco thought to himself. He watched the baby fuss and wail for a moment longer and then proceeded to administer the only mercy a flustered ten-year-old mind could conjure up. The young man raised his own wand and whispered the ultimate Unforgivable. It had been painless for the baby. It was just a bright, green light and then darkness and rest. Unfortunately for Draco, his father had witnessed his display of mercy for the Muggle child.

“You worthless, little brat! I gave you no such order to do that! Why do you insist on disobeying me?” Lucius growled angrily a the young, blonde boy. Draco did not answer. He knew that whenever his father asked him a question in that matter, to give an answer would warrant more punishment. And he had already earned his share for the evening.

“Very well, Draco. Perhaps after a beating and a few hours at the quill, you will be able to control your foolish behavior. Let’s go!” Lucius said threateningly as he gripped the collar of Draco’s robe and practically dragged him home.


Draco blinked and let his watery eyes wash away those painful images. The picture of the baby replayed in his head. Since that day, he had not been sure if he had done what he was supposed to with that Muggle baby.

‘To kill it quickly was merciful, wasn’t it? It would have been worse for it to starve or freeze, right? Maybe someone would have found it though. If I hadn’t that baby might be alive today.’ Draco thought over and over again. Draco rolled over onto his side and replayed the punishment he had received that evening. As he thought he rolled up the long sleeve of his dark shirt and ran his hand over his left forearm. The punishment was a familiar one, his father’s favorite. And the evidence of his father’s special quill would forever be permanent. It was the reason he always wore long sleeves in public. On Draco’s arm; in large, thick letters of scar tissue were words, that in his childhood, he had become quite familiar with.

‘I AM WORTHLESS’