Fallen in grace

Expectations

I've always dreamt of the day I would be going to Hogwarts, though I have to admit that at the same time I was also quite scared of the day I would have to walk through these doors. 

Scared I would not be able to uphold the high standard that comes along with the Malfoy name. For as long as I can remember I have been told that there is almost no greater honour in this world than to be a part of this noble pureblood family.

 I have been taught to hate those that bring dishonour to the race of noble pureblood wizards.

My father told me that many pureblood families have proven themselves to be unworthy of the pureblood name, blood traitors, by meddling with half-bloods or even with mudbloods. 

Mudbloods are those whose blood is as filthy as mud. They are Muggle-born, not raised in a magical household and thus unworthy of the name 'wizard' or 'witch'. My whole life I have been told this over and over again so that was all that I could believe. I had no reason to doubt my father's words.

So when the owl carrying my letter finally came I went with my parents to Diagon Alley to buy my school supplies. Since there was no doubt that I would end up in Slytherin as my parents and many familymembers of the honourable Malfoy family before me, we already bought my houseaccessories.

While shopping I noticed a family with quite a few children walking by. They didn't seem to notice us, they were too caught up with each other, laughing and talking while they strolled through the alley. And for the first time I felt like I had missed something. During my youth I was never much around children. We didn't have a lot of family and I felt some jealousy towards these kids who clearly had a great time with each other. Maybe thing would be better for me when I went to school.

My father saw me looking at the family who just passed us. He looked at them in disgust.

'Draco, I often told you about the people we should avoid. Those who don't deserve the wizardname. That family you just saw, with clearly way too many children for them to handle or pay for are some of the worst kind. They are real blood traitors, unworthy of the powers they have. I think one of their many redheaded sons will also be a first year. He shouldn't be hard to miss. He'll be wearing some hand me downs from one of his many brothers and will probably smell like his dirty house. I expect nothing less of you than utter distaste towards this boy. You better have better marks in every single class than this blood traitor or you'll be unworthy of the Malfoy name if this blood traitor will be ranked above you.'

I immediately regretted staring too long at the family because it had earned me yet another remark on the high expectations I had to fulfill this year.

 I just nodded and turned towards my mother who was eyeing a broom in the nearby store. I immediately recognized the newest model, the nimbus 2000. My father joined us. He told me that first years were not allowed their own broom, he called it yet another useless rule by the, according to him, mentally ill and dementing fool of a headmaster, Dumbledore. 

Nonetheless, he walked into the store and came out with the new broom in his hand. He just handed the broom to me without even looking at me while walking away, mumbling about blood traitors in poverty and the ways to uphold standards and status.