Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended. This work is intended to be Fanfiction, which means I am a fan. In other words, I do not own the rights to Harry Potter or anything connected to it. No profit is being made from this work.

Summary: He had always suspected something. It was clear that something was not adding up, that people he held dear tried to hide something from him. Now he has finally uncovered the truth. Not canon-compliant. One-shot.

...Or rather, more of a drabble, except that it's slightly long for a drabble. Written in approx. 10 minutes.

I look her in the eye and finally speak the words that I have wished to speak for so long. Words that I could only speak now without lying.

"I know now."

Three words. Seemingly innocent, yet so shattering. I could have said so before, but it would not have been true. I had only had suspicions, not knowledge. These suspicions had been both true and false at the same time.

"I know now."

Some people tried their best to keep me from knowing, to keep me from uncovering that which they tried to hide so carefully. They should have known better. You can't hide something that big from me. Not for long, at least. The fact that only a small number of people knew the truth had caused some set-backs, yes. It had taken me longer than suspected, but I had uncovered the truth. Like I always knew I would.

"I know now."

I had suspected for a while already, of course. How could I not? For it was clear – all too clear – that people kept hiding things from me. Yet my suspicions... they were both true and false at the same time.

"I know now."

I had confronted her, once. She had tried to hide herself behind a mask, but she hadn't been quick enough. Her expression had said enough. I had kept pressing her for information, but she refused to release any actual information. Still, the words she had dared speak had said enough.

She went on about how I was not old enough to be burdened with the truth. She claimed she would tell me later, if I still wanted to know then. But when was 'later'? When would I be old enough?

Never. She would always have refused to hand me the truth, I'm certain... but she said enough that from that moment onwards, I knew that I was right to have my suspicions. That at least part of what I had been previously told, what I had grown up with, was indeed a lie.

Now I had uncovered the truth. A bitter truth. Not just part of what I had grown up with had been a lie.

My middle name now feels like a cruel joke, for I am not my father's son, for all that I look like him. I suspect that my mother dearest used a blood-ritual to make me look like him. Too much, perhaps, as I am almost an identical copy of him. I do not know if he himself has ever suspected anything. Perhaps so, perhaps not. It wouldn't be the first time he was wilfully blind.

My whole life so far has been a lie.

For I, Draco Lucius Malfoy, scion of the House of Malfoy, Heir to Lord Malfoy, am the son of a muggleborn.