Title: Happy? Me? Of course.
----- Important! PLEASE read ----
Hello everyone! Just wanted to say that all the chapters that hadn't been edited before, are being edited now. And it's all thanks to Emmy! So, now you can read the chapters, without any spelling mistakes! Isn't life wonderful?
The first chapter's all done!
Chapter: The Meeting
First there was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Also known as the bouncing ferret, stupid git, or simply Malfoy. He had gotten used to it. Just like he was use to the way he was supposed to act towards other people. If he had thought about it, he would have realised that he deserved to be called all those names. But he didn't want to think about it.
To mock people was the only way to act for Draco, since his father had been teaching him his whole life to hide his feelings and hate Mudbloods and others that weren't like them. Why? Draco didn't know. He just knew that that was the way to be. Actually, Draco had the courage once to ask his father that scary question. He had only been about eight years old and didn't know any better.
His father had looked at his son with those angry, cold, and evil eyes of his before he answered.
"Son, sooner or later you'll be out in this world alone, and then you will understand why we hate Mudbloods.
"They are the reason we have to keep hiding our powers like this! If it hadn't been for Mudbloods we could live happily in this world without worrying if someone would spot us doing some charm." He paused for a moment just to make what he said a bit more dramatic. "If it hadn't been for Mudbloods, we would be free"
Even though it sounded totally nuts, that last sentence would repeat itself more than once as little Draco Malfoy grew up. He put on this mask of self-confidence, hate, cold calmness and pride and started to live up to the kind of son his father wanted him to be.
At first Draco did feel guilty while slapping and mocking someone smaller than him, someone different or just some useless Mudblood. But it only took him about two years before that mask was gone. He didn't have to pretend anymore. That hate and coldness would shine through his eyes anyway.
According to the young Draco Malfoy the hate was towards Mudbloods. Without them the world would be a better place. Right? But he felt so much hate. Could it all be just because of them? Maybe... He didn't spend his days thinking about that. He let out all of his anger on innocent people who couldn't protect themselves, or that annoying Potter. It was entirely his fault. He was the one who stopped Lord Voldemort from killing all those Mudbloods. And Potter was a Mudblood too. Thinking about that made little Draco want to throw up. So he felt a lot better after making Potter feel bad. He didn't feel good, Draco never felt good about himself, but he felt better. And that's always something.
He was destined to be a Death Eater like his father. Even though it scared him, he thought it was for the best, so Draco didn't waste time dreaming about a future doing something he actually might enjoy.
To summarize: Draco Malfoy was an angry, unhappy 16-year-old boy who had a lot to learn about life. Especially a lot to learn about a curtain feeling called "guilt." He thought he would never feel that again. If he had only known how wrong he was.
___________________________________________________________________________
It was the second week of his 6th year at Hogwarts. He and his never failing friends Crabbe and Goyle were, as usual, mocking someone younger. Someone with annoying red hair, someone with the last name Weasley...
"Well, now, Mudblood-lover, where is your hero Potter when you need him?" Draco mocked her with a big smirk on his face. Crabbe and Goyle laughed as they watched her trip over Draco's feet that he had so kindly placed in front of her.
They heard her trying to hide a quiet "ouch" and saw how her face turned red and how her eyes filled up with tears. Draco was just about to drop another comment, when she suddenly looked up at him, and their eyes met for a split second. Those eyes ... those sad eyes... When he looked at them he felt something twitch in his stomach, something awful... For a second the smirk on his face faded, but he was able to control it fast enough.
"C-come on guys, we have no time for this" he said and started to walk away.
What the hell was happening? He felt as though he just wanted to scream "STOP!" but he couldn't, he was too choked. He felt an emptiness inside of him he hadn't felt for so many years. Or maybe he had, but had somehow learned not to think about it.
He looked over his shoulder and stared right at her. She was still sitting on the floor, tears running down her cheeks as she watched him walk away.
_____________________________________________________________________
So then there was Miss Ginny Weasley. The always smiling, always happy, and always alone Miss Weasley. But little Ginny liked to be alone, that's just the way it was. If you looked at her smile you could see that she liked it like that. Right?
Yes, sure she smiled, but that didn't mean that she was happy. Actually, it meant the exact opposite.
Her best friends Desdemona and Miranda were always there for Ginny. Except for those times when they had dates and somehow "forgot" about their meetings with Ginny. Or when they were out looking at the Quidditch practices and "forgot" about her.
Ginny used to sit and wait for them for hours while thinking, "Maybe they forgot their books and had to go back and get them?" and "Maybe they've had an accident and are lying in the hospital wing with broken arms and legs?" But Ginny knew that wasn't really the reason. She knew somewhere deep inside of her that her so-called "friends" had just gone somewhere else and hadn't told her about it.
But then, when she was just about to give up and go back to their dorm they would come laughing and happy and give Ginny an excuse like: "Oh Ginny we're so sorry! But you know those gorgeous Ravenclaw guys? They finally asked us out! We had no time to tell you about it, but you understand don't you?"
And Ginny would just smile and say that it was okay and that she understood. Just as she had understood so many times before that. And once again her fake smile would come in handy. It hid all the chaos that went through the little girl's head. But the one thing that couldn't be hidden was the deep sadness in her eyes. Not that it mattered, Desdemona and Miranda never noticed anyway.
But that she was lonely wasn't her only problem. She was a bit confused over why she was in Gryffindor. She wasn't brave. She always stammered, and her face always turned red when someone looked at her.
Harry Potter was brave. But not Ginny. She would never dare to do anything against the rules, and she would never have the courage to tell her friends it wasn't okay that they forgot about her all the time!
While waiting for her friends, Ginny often went to the library and read a lot of books. Hermione often saw her there, and thought she was there because Harry Potter might come. She was wrong. Ginny didn't like him anymore. He scared her. When she looked at him she would always remember Tom ... the dark chamber ... the diary. She didn't like it. All she wanted was someone she could talk to. Someone who would care about her and not just leave her and take her for granted, like her so-called friends. Why did they do that anyway?
Ginny thought she would be miserable for as long as she went to Hogwarts. She was wrong. She would be happy, and it all began that day in the hallway when she was as unhappy as she could be.
She had been on a bad mood all day. Her friends had stood her up for the second time that day, she had been late to DADA and on top of that she met Draco and his followers.
He was always mean to her, laughed at her and called her "Mudblood-lover." She could never understand why. But this day she couldn't keep her fake smile on, she was too tired.
As she sat there on the floor with an aching knee and the three boys stood there and laughed at her, she felt as if she had lost all of her strength. She couldn't keep doing this, pretending she wasn't sad when in fact she felt like it was the end of the world. She knew it wasn't, but it felt as though it was.
So she looked up at him, looked into his cold, grey eyes and just stared. She didn't even bothered to dry the tears that were running down her cheeks; she just looked at him, revealing all of the sadness she'd been hiding for so long. And then she saw it ... something in his facial expression changed. It looked like ... guilt? Could it be true? Yes, he started to walk away with his friends still snickering at her. But he wasn't laughing. He just kept staring at her with something looking like surprise in his eyes.
.
----- Important! PLEASE read ----
Hello everyone! Just wanted to say that all the chapters that hadn't been edited before, are being edited now. And it's all thanks to Emmy! So, now you can read the chapters, without any spelling mistakes! Isn't life wonderful?
The first chapter's all done!
Chapter: The Meeting
First there was Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Also known as the bouncing ferret, stupid git, or simply Malfoy. He had gotten used to it. Just like he was use to the way he was supposed to act towards other people. If he had thought about it, he would have realised that he deserved to be called all those names. But he didn't want to think about it.
To mock people was the only way to act for Draco, since his father had been teaching him his whole life to hide his feelings and hate Mudbloods and others that weren't like them. Why? Draco didn't know. He just knew that that was the way to be. Actually, Draco had the courage once to ask his father that scary question. He had only been about eight years old and didn't know any better.
His father had looked at his son with those angry, cold, and evil eyes of his before he answered.
"Son, sooner or later you'll be out in this world alone, and then you will understand why we hate Mudbloods.
"They are the reason we have to keep hiding our powers like this! If it hadn't been for Mudbloods we could live happily in this world without worrying if someone would spot us doing some charm." He paused for a moment just to make what he said a bit more dramatic. "If it hadn't been for Mudbloods, we would be free"
Even though it sounded totally nuts, that last sentence would repeat itself more than once as little Draco Malfoy grew up. He put on this mask of self-confidence, hate, cold calmness and pride and started to live up to the kind of son his father wanted him to be.
At first Draco did feel guilty while slapping and mocking someone smaller than him, someone different or just some useless Mudblood. But it only took him about two years before that mask was gone. He didn't have to pretend anymore. That hate and coldness would shine through his eyes anyway.
According to the young Draco Malfoy the hate was towards Mudbloods. Without them the world would be a better place. Right? But he felt so much hate. Could it all be just because of them? Maybe... He didn't spend his days thinking about that. He let out all of his anger on innocent people who couldn't protect themselves, or that annoying Potter. It was entirely his fault. He was the one who stopped Lord Voldemort from killing all those Mudbloods. And Potter was a Mudblood too. Thinking about that made little Draco want to throw up. So he felt a lot better after making Potter feel bad. He didn't feel good, Draco never felt good about himself, but he felt better. And that's always something.
He was destined to be a Death Eater like his father. Even though it scared him, he thought it was for the best, so Draco didn't waste time dreaming about a future doing something he actually might enjoy.
To summarize: Draco Malfoy was an angry, unhappy 16-year-old boy who had a lot to learn about life. Especially a lot to learn about a curtain feeling called "guilt." He thought he would never feel that again. If he had only known how wrong he was.
___________________________________________________________________________
It was the second week of his 6th year at Hogwarts. He and his never failing friends Crabbe and Goyle were, as usual, mocking someone younger. Someone with annoying red hair, someone with the last name Weasley...
"Well, now, Mudblood-lover, where is your hero Potter when you need him?" Draco mocked her with a big smirk on his face. Crabbe and Goyle laughed as they watched her trip over Draco's feet that he had so kindly placed in front of her.
They heard her trying to hide a quiet "ouch" and saw how her face turned red and how her eyes filled up with tears. Draco was just about to drop another comment, when she suddenly looked up at him, and their eyes met for a split second. Those eyes ... those sad eyes... When he looked at them he felt something twitch in his stomach, something awful... For a second the smirk on his face faded, but he was able to control it fast enough.
"C-come on guys, we have no time for this" he said and started to walk away.
What the hell was happening? He felt as though he just wanted to scream "STOP!" but he couldn't, he was too choked. He felt an emptiness inside of him he hadn't felt for so many years. Or maybe he had, but had somehow learned not to think about it.
He looked over his shoulder and stared right at her. She was still sitting on the floor, tears running down her cheeks as she watched him walk away.
_____________________________________________________________________
So then there was Miss Ginny Weasley. The always smiling, always happy, and always alone Miss Weasley. But little Ginny liked to be alone, that's just the way it was. If you looked at her smile you could see that she liked it like that. Right?
Yes, sure she smiled, but that didn't mean that she was happy. Actually, it meant the exact opposite.
Her best friends Desdemona and Miranda were always there for Ginny. Except for those times when they had dates and somehow "forgot" about their meetings with Ginny. Or when they were out looking at the Quidditch practices and "forgot" about her.
Ginny used to sit and wait for them for hours while thinking, "Maybe they forgot their books and had to go back and get them?" and "Maybe they've had an accident and are lying in the hospital wing with broken arms and legs?" But Ginny knew that wasn't really the reason. She knew somewhere deep inside of her that her so-called "friends" had just gone somewhere else and hadn't told her about it.
But then, when she was just about to give up and go back to their dorm they would come laughing and happy and give Ginny an excuse like: "Oh Ginny we're so sorry! But you know those gorgeous Ravenclaw guys? They finally asked us out! We had no time to tell you about it, but you understand don't you?"
And Ginny would just smile and say that it was okay and that she understood. Just as she had understood so many times before that. And once again her fake smile would come in handy. It hid all the chaos that went through the little girl's head. But the one thing that couldn't be hidden was the deep sadness in her eyes. Not that it mattered, Desdemona and Miranda never noticed anyway.
But that she was lonely wasn't her only problem. She was a bit confused over why she was in Gryffindor. She wasn't brave. She always stammered, and her face always turned red when someone looked at her.
Harry Potter was brave. But not Ginny. She would never dare to do anything against the rules, and she would never have the courage to tell her friends it wasn't okay that they forgot about her all the time!
While waiting for her friends, Ginny often went to the library and read a lot of books. Hermione often saw her there, and thought she was there because Harry Potter might come. She was wrong. Ginny didn't like him anymore. He scared her. When she looked at him she would always remember Tom ... the dark chamber ... the diary. She didn't like it. All she wanted was someone she could talk to. Someone who would care about her and not just leave her and take her for granted, like her so-called friends. Why did they do that anyway?
Ginny thought she would be miserable for as long as she went to Hogwarts. She was wrong. She would be happy, and it all began that day in the hallway when she was as unhappy as she could be.
She had been on a bad mood all day. Her friends had stood her up for the second time that day, she had been late to DADA and on top of that she met Draco and his followers.
He was always mean to her, laughed at her and called her "Mudblood-lover." She could never understand why. But this day she couldn't keep her fake smile on, she was too tired.
As she sat there on the floor with an aching knee and the three boys stood there and laughed at her, she felt as if she had lost all of her strength. She couldn't keep doing this, pretending she wasn't sad when in fact she felt like it was the end of the world. She knew it wasn't, but it felt as though it was.
So she looked up at him, looked into his cold, grey eyes and just stared. She didn't even bothered to dry the tears that were running down her cheeks; she just looked at him, revealing all of the sadness she'd been hiding for so long. And then she saw it ... something in his facial expression changed. It looked like ... guilt? Could it be true? Yes, he started to walk away with his friends still snickering at her. But he wasn't laughing. He just kept staring at her with something looking like surprise in his eyes.
.