It was a common misconception that pureblooded children such as the Malfoys were bred from a family that was based solely on hatred. However, that was the farthest from the truth as the eldest of the Malfoy family, Saros, had grown up in a household...
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[Chapter Twelve]
Saros couldn't do it, he couldn't bring himself to answer Angelina's questions, mainly because he didn't even have an answer for himself. He had been questioning everything since the Quidditch World Cup incident and it had already left him overwhelmed with his own questions. The fact that someone else was picking up on it and questioning his behaviours, was leaving him more than stressed and he didn't know what to say. There wasn't a snarky comment or a witty comeback for him to use to get her to back off because it didn't even feel right anymore.
All the back and forth banter between them was usually his way of saying "I think you're pretty, but my family classifies you as beneath us, so tough tits, toodles."
But now he realised that his family was in the wrong, their beliefs in muggles and Muggle-borns were outdated or just poor excuses used so that they didn't appear as guilty when they attacked innocent people. Yet, he didn't know what he was supposed to do about it, was he supposed to confront his parents and tell them that he believed they were wrong? For generations, his family whether on his mother's side or his father's side had believed in the mentality of pureblood supremacy.
Saros couldn't deny that he had firmly believed it for quite some time too and Draco was being raised the same way. It was only the incident that had actually knocked some sense into him, literally and metaphorically. Still, Saros felt so trapped as to what he was supposed to do, how was he supposed to handle it all? If his parents were firm believers, he distinctly remembered the stories of what happened to those that thought differently from the family.
Dating back decades ago, people were disowned by the family, their faces blast off the tapestry, never to be heard from again, unless they wanted to be jinxed or cursed into oblivion. Did Saros really want that for himself? He knew his parents loved him, but would they really let it slide that he opposed their beliefs, especially if it tarnished their reputation among the other families? He had so many questions but absolutely no one to turn to for answers.
Sure, perhaps Angelina would offer some advice but she didn't know what it was like among the Sacred Twenty-Eight families. She didn't know of the privileges that came with the title, but she also didn't know the fear that came with it. The fear to be perfect by their expectations in every possible way and any toe out of line was dealt with right away.
For years, he wanted to talk to Angelina, on friendly terms, and now he had the opportunity, but he wouldn't take it. He wouldn't confide in her as a friend because she couldn't help him, no one really could. Saros had to weigh his options, he had to make the decision for himself. And while he was balancing the idea of going against his family, he was so torn with the idea of the Triwizard Tournament looming over his head.
The time was coming up a lot faster than he anticipated, soon it would be time for those that wished to have a chance at selection to enter their names and he was debating it just as much as he was with confessing to his parents about how he truly felt. Draco brought up a valid point that if Saros could make it through the tournament, no one could ever question if he was capable of doing something.