The boy who wants to be Dead - Drarry

Chapter 2

Draco Lucius Malfoy was staring.
Not at the grand mirror bevor him, but rather at himself displayed in the grand mirror.
A frown was edged into his beautiful features.
He wore a fancy grey suit with a magnificent green tie which perfectly hid his beautiful body which was to skinny to be healthy.
His blond hair was, like always, sleeked back, though it had become rather long for his likening.
He starred at himself, trying to see the Malfoy heir he should be. But all he saw was Death. He held himself straight with dignity just like his stupid father had taught him. The only good thing he had ever taught him.

His father had tainted the Malfoy name with his Death Eater Business and he had made Draco tainte the Malfoy name as well. "The boy who had no choice" That was the title they gave him. And how true it was. All his life he was merely a puppet to his fathers aims, manipulated from early age to act a certain way, to think a certain way and to believe certain things. He had found that most of the things were entirely rubbish. He felt used. And used he was. Merely a tool in a war. Lucius has proven that in this world there are indeed fathers who will sold their own children for power and gain.

But that would end now. He was finally free of his fathers reign. His father was in Azkaban after all.
Draco would whitewash the Malfoy name. The Malfoys were once highley respected pure-blood wizards and he would make sure that they are highly respected again, this time for the right believes. He would not make the same bad choices as his father. No, he would make better choices, now that he had the freedom of choice.

He would do it for himself, but also for his beloved mother. They both were acquitted free by the golden boy himself. Draco did not know why Harry saved them by declaring them innocent after all he had done to him, but he was more than greatful. He and his mother were indebted to Harry. And if there was one thing a pure-blood wizard family took serious it would be debts.
And again Dracos thoughts circulated around the black haired boy with the emerald eyes. There was just something about the boy which held him captive. Maybe it was the guilt inside of him.

"Pottah" Draco mumbled not realizing that he actually voiced that. Whitewashing the Malfoy Name will not be easy, draco knows that. It might take years, but it will be worth it. He will make a name for himself without the shadow of his father and he could start with the debts to the Potter boy, helping the Saviour of the Wizard world would surely not go by unnoticed.

The frown on his face deepens. With a swift movement he run his slender fingers through his hair, letting his strands of hair tumble down freely.

That was better. The sleeked hair reminded him too much of the arrogant boy his father controlled. He first had to change himself if he wanted to make a change. Which did not mean that he would be less arrogant or prideful ...or fashionable, he was a Malfoy after all. And that entails a certain air of confidence and superiority, even though there was not much that he could really be proud of.

It was far from what he actually felt, but he couldn't possibly show it. The Malfoy mask was his last resolve against the world. And he would need it against the people out there, who were merely seeing a Death Eater in him. They wanted him dead and they were not afraid to show it.
He always needed to be careful not to be hexed in the back.
It was true that his mother and he were declaired innocent by the golden boy, but that did not stop the people from believing otherwise. All they saw were the dark mark on his arm and the pain that was left after the war. Hate born from pain was never rational.

But he couldn't let that stop him from achieving his new found purpose.
The truths was, he dreamed of becoming a healer. A profession that did not match a Malfoy at all.
However he had seen enough death at it was and somehow he had found a longing to protect life. Maybe it was his way of making amends for all he has done...or for all he actually never did.

Draco sighed. There was a part of him filled with hate for his father who made bad choices, for the people who only saw his father in him, but above all for himself for being a coward, for being so powerless against Voldemort.

He shook his head. Enough with this depressing thoughts. He had things to do. With a last glance in the mirror he turned around walking towards the bedside table, grabbing his wand.

It was not truly his wand. His wand vanished in the war against Voldemort. The Ministry gave him his new wand, making sure that he could only use the most basic spells and charms. A precaution until they can be sure that he is indeed trustworthy and not the Death Eater the mark on his arm lets everyone belive.

Also, he would be supervised for two years, another precaution to make sure that they were right to give him another chance. During these two years he was not allowed to leave England and he had to make sure that he makes no further offences. If he was found guilty for any crime at all during those two years, he will go to Azkaban and not even the golden boy can help him then.

And Draco knew that there were enough people who really wanted him to commit a crime and some might even try to set him up.
Just last week an incident happened leaving Draco almost in peril of Azkaban.

"Draco?" His Mothers voice rang through the manor. "Are you ready yet or do I have to come looking in case you managed to faint from admire youself for too long?"

"Oh please, Mother! It's not me that faints, but the mirror for getting the honor of displaying me." Draco shoots back.

"Oh Darling, leave the poor mirror and come downstairs already, it's nearly time." Narzissa couldn't help but shake her head in amusement. She wonders from who Draco has inherited this trait. Lucious always took great care to look neat, and perfect, but Draco was another story.

The amount of time and care he took surpassed even her own as a woman.
He used products she didn't even recognize. Narzissa loved Draco dearly, but there was a time where she wanted to have a daughter, so she couldn't help, but dress Draco up instead. With boys clothes obviously, what did you though?!
And surprisingly he did not mind. He enjoyed going shopping with her, trying new clothes out and helping her with make up and hair. He loved glitter and jewellery. And bevor long it was her and Dracos favourite occupation and their little secret. Of course Lucius could never know of his sons hobby. He would have been furious. So Narzissa made sure that he never got to know about it. Whenever Lucius was harsh to Draco, she would go shopping with Draco later.

Now she wonders if she should have spend so much time with draco in clothes shops.
But when she saw her son walking downstairs in his grey suit, his platinum blond hair shining bright in the light, she couldn't help but feel proud. She really had a beautiful son and he knew it too, sometimes too much for his own good.

"You look beautiful, Dragon. No wonder your mirror fainted" She joked.

"Not as good as you, Maman." Draco smiled kissing the top of his mother's hair. He had to reach down a bit since he was taller than her.

"Charmer." She replied, smiling fondly at her son. "Now let us go, we can't keep your aunt waiting. It's the first time she sees you after so many years."

"I can't remember ever meeting her."

"Of course not, you were a baby. We had to keep that meeting a secret from your farther."

"And you think she will want to see me?"

"You are not Lucius, Draco. Do not forget that. Whatever he did is not your burden to carry. Your aunt and me had a really good relationship once, all black sisters had in fact, bevor Voldemort. In the end her choice was the best from all three of us. She will love you Draco, I am sure of it. She was always the most kindest and accepting from all of us sisters."

Draco wasn't sure if he should believe his mother. He had heart many storys of his aunt Andromeda, told by his mother since he was little. Narzissa always loved her sister even after she was banished from the Black Family.
But he couldn't stop feeling nervous in prospect to actual meeting her in person.

With a pounting heart he stepped next to his mother into the flames of the chimney while grabbing floo powder.

"Andromeda Tonks"