HP fic: Draco character study
Feb. 5th, 2007 06:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
This is a short ficlet set during the time in which Draco is working on the cabinet in the Room of Requirement.
Conversations with the Dead
1.
Draco thinks, I don’t like Weasley. Or Granger. And definitely not Potter. I hate them, actually. But why can’t the Dark Lord just quarantine their sort in St. Mungo’s instead of expecting us to make garlands of their entrails? He washes his face in the sink, notices how sharp and pinched his features have become. His eyes are ringed with shadows and inexplicably he feels a sort of hysterical giggle bubbling up. Draco’s surprised when what he’s holding back turns out to be a sob. “I don’t want to do this,” he whispers.
“What’s that?” A girl’s voice echoes suddenly and loudly in the bathroom. “What don’t you want to do?”
Draco whirls around, billowing his robes in a cultivated imitation of Professor Snape. “Who’s there?”
“It’s only me, silly boy. Moaning Myrtle, of course.” And she floats down from the ceiling, listing from side to side like a bit of foam on a wave.
Draco digs his fists into his eyes, shoulders his bag of tools and walks right through Myrtle’s monochrome form. From the hall he hears her ask, “Are you as rude to the living?”
2.
“Why are you crying, little boy?” Myrtle plunges into the overlarge sink basin and props her hands on her chin.
Draco cannot answer her, not yet. He’s sitting on the cold tile, pressing the heel of his hand into his mouth so he does not cry aloud. He cannot say, Because my father made a mistake years ago and now I’m paying the price. Because the first thing of any consequence that I ever remember him saying to me is, ‘I made this bed and now you must lie in it.’ Because I don’t want to die.
Myrtle blinks at him. She’s a washed out watery gray, the light reflected in her glasses like the shine of winter sun on the lake. “Why won’t you ever say what’s the matter?” Myrtle springs up and swan dives into Draco’s lap. He doesn’t even flinch anymore as her cold emptiness surrounds him—-that somehow tangible nothing that feels not so much of cold as the ache underneath the freeze.
He wipes his face with his robes and leans back against the wall. Myrtle’s nose is almost touching his own and he can see himself through her haze in the mirror, his own blurred face with Myrtle’s superimposed. Draco Malfoy in pigtails.
He smiles and Myrtle claps her hands and rockets into one of the toilets with a plop.
3.
“What’s it like to be dead, Myrtle?” Draco asks.
She hiccups and giggles, backstroking her way across the ceiling. “Lonely.” Myrtle pauses thoughtfully. “And for me, wet.”
Draco is not stupid. He knows exactly what being a Death Eater entails. As he once overheard Weasley saying, it’s got bloody death in the title. Draco’s seen his Aunt Bella’s mugshot, black hair curtaining half her face, her one visible eye twitching periodically, mouth forever opening and closing in a silent howl. He knows Longbottom’s parents are too broken to even know him anymore and Potter’s parents are actually dead, which Draco isn’t so sure is really worse, and Moaning Myrtle is dead too. All because of the Dark Lord. And soon, maybe, Dumbledore will be dead. Because of Draco.
He hears a tiny noise, the scrape of a shoe, and Potter’s in the doorway, watching him. Draco is first angry, but then an overwhelming relief settles on him like the snug embrace of still water.
“Crucio!” Draco says, and deliberately hesitates, just long enough for Potter to take advantage. Then Draco’s falling, slowly and forever falling, Myrtle’s face suspended above his, and he can see himself in her glasses, his blood reflected black and glistening. In those few precious moments before Professor Snape heals him, when Draco knows that he is dying, that soon he will be dead, Myrtle takes his hand and her fingers are warm and damp and her grip is tight.
Conversations with the Dead
1.
Draco thinks, I don’t like Weasley. Or Granger. And definitely not Potter. I hate them, actually. But why can’t the Dark Lord just quarantine their sort in St. Mungo’s instead of expecting us to make garlands of their entrails? He washes his face in the sink, notices how sharp and pinched his features have become. His eyes are ringed with shadows and inexplicably he feels a sort of hysterical giggle bubbling up. Draco’s surprised when what he’s holding back turns out to be a sob. “I don’t want to do this,” he whispers.
“What’s that?” A girl’s voice echoes suddenly and loudly in the bathroom. “What don’t you want to do?”
Draco whirls around, billowing his robes in a cultivated imitation of Professor Snape. “Who’s there?”
“It’s only me, silly boy. Moaning Myrtle, of course.” And she floats down from the ceiling, listing from side to side like a bit of foam on a wave.
Draco digs his fists into his eyes, shoulders his bag of tools and walks right through Myrtle’s monochrome form. From the hall he hears her ask, “Are you as rude to the living?”
2.
“Why are you crying, little boy?” Myrtle plunges into the overlarge sink basin and props her hands on her chin.
Draco cannot answer her, not yet. He’s sitting on the cold tile, pressing the heel of his hand into his mouth so he does not cry aloud. He cannot say, Because my father made a mistake years ago and now I’m paying the price. Because the first thing of any consequence that I ever remember him saying to me is, ‘I made this bed and now you must lie in it.’ Because I don’t want to die.
Myrtle blinks at him. She’s a washed out watery gray, the light reflected in her glasses like the shine of winter sun on the lake. “Why won’t you ever say what’s the matter?” Myrtle springs up and swan dives into Draco’s lap. He doesn’t even flinch anymore as her cold emptiness surrounds him—-that somehow tangible nothing that feels not so much of cold as the ache underneath the freeze.
He wipes his face with his robes and leans back against the wall. Myrtle’s nose is almost touching his own and he can see himself through her haze in the mirror, his own blurred face with Myrtle’s superimposed. Draco Malfoy in pigtails.
He smiles and Myrtle claps her hands and rockets into one of the toilets with a plop.
3.
“What’s it like to be dead, Myrtle?” Draco asks.
She hiccups and giggles, backstroking her way across the ceiling. “Lonely.” Myrtle pauses thoughtfully. “And for me, wet.”
Draco is not stupid. He knows exactly what being a Death Eater entails. As he once overheard Weasley saying, it’s got bloody death in the title. Draco’s seen his Aunt Bella’s mugshot, black hair curtaining half her face, her one visible eye twitching periodically, mouth forever opening and closing in a silent howl. He knows Longbottom’s parents are too broken to even know him anymore and Potter’s parents are actually dead, which Draco isn’t so sure is really worse, and Moaning Myrtle is dead too. All because of the Dark Lord. And soon, maybe, Dumbledore will be dead. Because of Draco.
He hears a tiny noise, the scrape of a shoe, and Potter’s in the doorway, watching him. Draco is first angry, but then an overwhelming relief settles on him like the snug embrace of still water.
“Crucio!” Draco says, and deliberately hesitates, just long enough for Potter to take advantage. Then Draco’s falling, slowly and forever falling, Myrtle’s face suspended above his, and he can see himself in her glasses, his blood reflected black and glistening. In those few precious moments before Professor Snape heals him, when Draco knows that he is dying, that soon he will be dead, Myrtle takes his hand and her fingers are warm and damp and her grip is tight.
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Date: 2007-02-06 01:10 am (UTC)Too bad for Draco that Moaning Myrtle isn't as cute as Holden...
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Date: 2007-02-07 02:20 am (UTC)Myrtle is unfortunately not what one might call becoming. LOL I so loved her silly voice in the movies and how frenetic they made her in that incarnation.
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Date: 2007-02-06 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-07 02:21 am (UTC):)
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Date: 2007-02-06 08:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-07 02:22 am (UTC)I agree that his character is not explored in enough depth. Because we only get Harry's POV, Draco and Snape come off as largely flat and I think they deserve a little more exploration for their motivations.
Glad you like. :)
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Date: 2007-02-07 04:21 am (UTC)In any case, you have captured his character splendidly in this piece. It is haunting, entrancing...sad and hopeless. Your writing style also helps bring this piece to life as we see Moaning Myrtle become a new sense of hope for Draco. I especially loved the last line...just, wow.
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Date: 2007-02-07 04:21 pm (UTC)I always wanted to know more about Draco. I think that Rowling has a habit (partly because of the limitations of POV) of making pretty much every character outside Harry's immediate group of friends a cipher. They appear very one dimensional, and the people Harry dislikes appear especially one dimensional. I just feel like there's much, much more to Draco than Harry knows, and so as readers, more that we aren't seeing.
It pleases me very much that you liked this. :)
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Date: 2007-02-07 10:50 am (UTC)I love how that implies how close to death he really was. Or at least it does to me.
Lovely work!
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Date: 2007-02-07 04:22 pm (UTC)That's exactly what I was trying to imply.
:)
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Date: 2007-02-07 11:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-07 04:23 pm (UTC):)
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Date: 2007-02-07 04:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-10 12:21 am (UTC)Oh, this is so... I can't find the right words. Sad, yes, but also tender and dear and tragic. Poor Draco, having to live again, in such a life.
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Date: 2007-02-14 05:27 pm (UTC)*big grin*
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Date: 2007-02-19 07:44 pm (UTC)Nice image! *g*
Draco's struggle is so clear, and the lack of a good solution weighs on the piece (and the reader) heavily, as it should. Very nice job.
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Date: 2007-02-21 02:17 am (UTC)I've always wanted to know more about Draco's character than we can get from Harry's POV, so I thought I'd make it up myself. LOL
*hugs*
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Date: 2007-04-03 04:22 pm (UTC)Poor Draco. I can't help but worry about what the future holds for him in the next book. Sure, he's a stuck up, racist brat but he's not a killer, bless his cotton sockies.
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Date: 2007-04-04 12:11 am (UTC)I want to know what's going to happen with Draco as well. One of the things about getting our information from Harry's POV means that we as readers get to learn precious little about other characters' inner workings. I just hope Rowling reveals enough about Draco to satisfy me.
Thanks again, sweetie.
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Date: 2007-04-04 07:07 am (UTC)Yes, same here. I'm hoping she will build on Draco's character from the last book in allowing Harry to to fully figure out that Darco is as much a victim as anyone else - someone to be saved. I shall be very disapointed in Harry's character otherwise because I already think he's smarter than she's made him out to be.
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Date: 2007-04-05 01:13 pm (UTC)I just hope she doesn't feel the need to kill Draco off. I've pretty much resigned my self to thinking that Harry'll likely get the axe.
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Date: 2007-04-05 02:33 pm (UTC)Eeeep! Don't say that. ~wibble~ I'm very affraid for him. I'm confident that Harry will be okay, though. Sort of. Yeah.