Most ardently by Swift Night, Chapter 13.
Miss Granger, do not be alarmed by the urgency with which I am
delivering this letter. I thought it better to compose
it. While my thoughts on the matters
we discussed today remain at the forefront of my mind, I promise
not to repeat the sentiment spoken or renew those offers
made that were so repulsive to you.
But if I may, I would like to address the accusations you have
levelled against me. The two offences, both of a
different nature and magnitude, were as follows.
First, I'd attached Mr. Zebini from your sister regardless of
the attachment of either individual, and 2nd, that I
purposefully refused Mr. Potter a promised inheritance.
In regards to the separation of Mr. Zabini and Miss Lovegood.
While the motives that governed me may appear insufficient to
you, they were done in the service of a friend.
It was clear to me since our arrival in Ottery St.
Couch Pole that Mister Zabini favoured your elder sister over
every other which within the neighborhood, but it was not
until the evening of the Yule Ball at Featherfield that I felt
a need to intervene. After overhearing your mother
profess her expectation of an imminent engagement, I soon
discovered that she was not alone in holding such an
expectation. Since it seemed all those in
attendance that I spoke to held such similar views on the
matter, I spent the remainder of the evening observing them.
It was at this point that I realised his partiality for your
sister far surpassed anything I had ever witnessed from him.
As such, it was all the more important to determine the
motives of Miss Lovegood if Mr. Zabini held such serious
intentions. From my point of view, your
sister's smile was pleasing, and her manners were as cheerful as
ever, but she appeared not to express the same level of
preference for him as he showed her.
From your own words this afternoon, it appears I was
mistaken in my conclusion. I shall trust your opinion on
the matter, seeing as you know Miss Lovegood's heart better
than I ever could. One more thing I must confess on
the matter. You asked me at our first
encounter during that disastrous dinner at Greengrass Grove if I
had seen your sister while she was in London and while I was
truthful in confirming I had not had the pleasure, I admitted
that I was aware she had travelled so far in her attempt
to reconnect with Mr. Sabini. Miss Parkinson informed me after
receiving your sister's first letter and it was under my
direction that she withheld the information from her brother.
I have now come to regret my role in this deception and
confess to knowing it has caused them both harm, not to mention
that it has also caused you to stress after watching your
sister suffer alone. For this, I can profess, was not
my intention. As for my relationship, or lack
thereof with Mr. Potter, you will have to forgive me as I
transcribe the entirety of our shared history, for in our brief
discussion of the topic today, it was unclear of how much the
truth or falsehoods he had previously conveyed to you.
I also hope that you will treat this information with
discretion, as I wish to be as candid with you as possible, but
the topic is delicate and I have previously made a point to not
disclose these facts publicly as it will easily lead to unwanted
scandal. The first time I met Mr. Potter
was not upon his arrival at my family home, but about six
months prior when we crossed paths during a robe fitting in
Diagon Alley. I did not know who he was during
our first introduction, but we spoke of our expectations for
Hogwarts the following year, when we would finally be
permitted to attend. I expressed that I was sure I
would join the countless generations of Malfoy's in
Slytherin. He in return told me that no
good wizard came from Slytherin and as such we could never be
friends. From the beginning, it appeared
we were doomed to be bitter adversaries.
Until he appeared on the steps of Malfoy Manor in his mourning
clothes, I had not even realised he was the same individual who
was set to come and live in my home.
My mother had pleaded with me to make peace with him when she
learned of our previous interaction, and I tried my best
to put it behind us for her sake.
For a short time, it seemed things were improving, aided by
the grandeur the Manor provided so that we could go multiple
days without running into one another.
We attended Hogwarts and we were sorted into our separate houses,
he to Gryffindor and myself in Slytherin.
It was at that point that Mister Potter's antagonism resurfaced
due to my mother no longer being able to function as an
intermediary. He bragged endlessly about
making the Gryffindor Quidditch team during our first year, but
when I made my own house team my second year, my father donated
new racing brooms to Slytherin to celebrate the achievement.
Mr. Potter insisted to everyone that I bought my way on to the
team. If this had been the extent of
our dispute, this feud could have been chalked up to petty
rivalry between school boys, but Mr. Potter only continued to
escalate. At the end of our second year,
Mr. Potter tricked my father into accidentally freeing one of
the house elves. Knowing you better now, I am
certain you would agree with the principle, and looking back I
can see the act was done with both the motivation to spite my
father and spare the elf. My father was never kind to
Dobby, a flaw which I can acknowledge and have attempted
to correct when I became the master of the elves of Malfoy
Manor upon his death, Though I doubt that fact will bring any
comfort to you. During our third year, Mr.
Potter and I each enrolled in Care of Magical Creatures as an
elective. When I was attacked by one of
the hippogriffs during the lesson, he told everyone he
wished the creature had finished me off.
My father was furious and demanded the creature be
executed. Potter aided in its escape only
an hour before the ACT was set to be completed.
Events like these plagued our history right up until my
father's death. I was informed, with only a few
weeks of my return to school for my 6th year, that I was now
responsible for my family's affairs.
This was the most challenging time, but my father had done his
best to prepare me for this role, even if it came far sooner
than expected. It was when I was going over the
documents I was left with that I learned that Mister Potter's
godfather, Mr. Black, had not named the wizard as the
inheritor of his seat in the Wisengemot, as he had professed
to have done all these years. Mr. Potter may have had the case
to claim the seat if Mr. Black's will had not purposefully
bequeathed him only his house and a modest portion of his
fortune. I do not know what led my father
to keep this fact from Mr. Potter or myself all these
years, but I was left to be the one to inform him.
At this point, I am certain you are questioning why I would not
have corrected this and simply given the seat away, but I will
admit that my motives in retaining its ownership are
somewhat selfish. You see, the Malfoy family did
not accumulate its wealth and lands without sacrifice.
For centuries, our family's tradition had been to have only
one male heir to keep the splitting of the estate and the
fortune amongst various branches of the Malfoy line.
Growing up an only child was often lonely, but it was part of
what it meant to be a Malfoy and something I would pass on to my
eventual heir. When I learned the Black family
seat had come to be in my possession, it gave me an
opportunity that I was not previously afforded in taking
possession of both seats. I could leave the Malfoy seat to
my first born son and the Black seat could be an inheritance for
a potential and much desired second son should I be fortunate
enough to have a larger family. Reading this truth, I hope you
can sympathize with my reluctance to give the seat away
to a wizard who has never shown me an ounce of decency.
Still, even with such a tense story, I did not want to leave
Mr. Potter without an income, since I suspected it would be
some time before I produced an heir, let alone a second son,
and was willing to allow him to serve as the proxy for the seat
in the time being. I withheld my plan after drawing
it up, hoping to discuss it with him in private once we returned
to Malfoy Manor after our exams. But a secret this big was bound
to get out. Mr. Potter learned from a friend
of his whose father had assisted me in the transition, that he
was in fact not to be inheriting.
After all, the true Gryffindor that he is, he decided he
preferred to discuss this so-called slight with his wand
rather than his words. During the spring term, he
cornered me in a bathroom where I was alone and gave me no
warning before he started firing off hexes.
I defended myself, but his anger exceeded my skill at the time
and I could not stop the slicing curse he levelled at me.
If not for a passing professor here in the Jewel and coming to
my rescue, I likely would have bled out on the bathroom floor.
I am forced to relive this ordeal each time I am accosted
by my scars in the mirror, so I find the incident quite
impossible to forget and even more difficult to forgive.
The Headmaster's favouritism saved Mr. Potter from being
expelled, but I rescinded my previous plans to work with him
once I recovered. I gave the opportunity instead
to Mr. Knott, who had always been a good friend to me and for
whom I have been grateful to work alongside all these years.
Mr. Potter collected his father's inheritance and the
properties left to him by Mr. Black through an intermediary at
Gringotts when he turned 17, and I considered our
acquaintanceship severed after he failed to return to Hogwarts
to complete his 7th year. My mother still writes to him on
occasion. She tries to hide it, but I am
well aware of her occasional correspondence.
To my knowledge, most of her letters go unanswered.
Other than learning that he had gone into the Aura service after
Hogwarts, I have heard very little regarding him over the
last several years. On a final note, while not
mentioned previously in this letter, there remains one matter
that came to light today to which I must convey my
apologies. That revelation being the fact
that you have been aware since our first meeting that I used
such an unkind word to describe you when speaking with Mr.
Sabini on the eve of our introduction.
I would like to believe that if I had known that you had
overheard me that night, I would have attempted to make amends
for my behaviour far sooner. There is no excuse I can give
for such an abhorrent action. It is no consolation, but I can
say that it was the last time I uttered that term out loud and I
vow that I shall never let it pass my lips again.
You were right to call me on my prejudice and I can see how my
words today could be construed to be hurtful.
It was not my intention, but it was the consequence of my
carelessness and pride in thinking you would feel
flattered by my intentions. In all fairness to you, I must
confess our time together has done much to rid me of my
beliefs on Pureblood's supremacy.
But from our conversation today, it seems I have further to go.
So, Miss Granger, that is the truth I lay bare before you.
Perhaps you will still think me a monster, or perhaps not.
Regardless of the answer, I only wish you well.
It has been my honour to know you this last year, and
eventually I hope that you can find happiness and live a life
as remarkable as you are. Draco Lucius Malfoy.
The letter, while only a few sheets of parchment, felt heavy
in Hermione's pocket on the ride back to Ottery St.
Catchpole. The roads had been too bumpy for
her to risk the carriage sickness that would come over
her from further investigations during the ride from Kent to
London. And once there, she did not feel
comfortable pulling it out in front of her sister or cousins
as they rode together back to the borough.
Not that she needed to reread it for the 100th time.
When she opened it in the comfort of her guest chambers at
Shell Cottage, the sun had yet to set.
It was only when it rose again that she realised she had spent
the entire night attempting to pass out every word, to fully
grasp the sentiments the sheets of parchment contained.
Each sentence left her reeling from the very first paragraph,
warning her not to be alarmed by his urgency and vowing to
refrain from repeating the declaration he had previously
made. She was left off kilter then.
Reading the defence of his actions last winter regarding
Mr. Zebini and Luna had caused her anger to flare up.
At first, she thought he had chosen to intentionally ignore
Luna's obvious affections, only to recall that Lavender had
struggled to seen them too, and she knew Luna far better than
Mr. Malfoy did. Still, his entitlement to act on
such a thing should be reason enough to continue to let her
simmer with Iyer. He may not have intended to be
malicious, but his actions still resulted in her sister's
suffering. His admission to employing Pansy
in this scheme to keep the couple separated make Hermione
re evaluate the witch's role in the deception with a single
sentence. Pansy had gone from the
mastermind of the ordeal to a mere accomplice.
If Mr. Malfoy had been able to convince Mr. Zabini of his
belief in Luna's indifference, who is to say he would not have
done the same to Pansy? Either way, it was clear the
witch could no longer take the majority of the blame that Pansy
had incorrectly rushed to place upon her.
When it came to the revelations about Mr. Potter, Hermione was
even more conflicted. She had searched for anything to
contradict what she had previously known, if only to be
able to declare the whole thing a falsehood.
But alas, she could find none and deemed it the most
comprehensive truth she could have been awarded.
His story matched relatively well with Mr. Potter's, only his
account contained far more details both for and against his
character. Hermione recalled how Mr. Potter
had once said he should have known better than to trust her
Slytherin, and his disdain for the Hogwarts House coincided
with what she had read in his letter about their initial
introduction. It was easy to see how years of
animosity had vested between the gentlemen, starting as a petty
rivalry between school boys only to culminate in an all out duel
when the truth of the inheritance came out.
Mr. Malfoy did not deny that Mister Black had left Mr. Potter
some of his property and fortune, of which he seemed to
have no qualms in handing over to the wizard after the jewel.
Hermione had not expected that from him.
The restraint he showed in not insisting the wizard was
entirely in the wrong only seemed to add to his
credibility. Unexpectedly, Mr. Malfoy
conceded that Mister Potter may have been right to free one of
the elves due to poor treatment, another concession she had not
expected from him after their conversation the week prior.
One thing Hermione could not fault him for was his reasoning
to hold on to the Black Seat after it having come into his
possession. She knew what it was like to
grow up with siblings and how lonely she could come to be when
visiting with her muggle parents.
Their home in London was too quiet, and while she loved the
Grangers deeply, she was secretly so happy each time she
returned to the borough and was surrounded by her sisters once
more. Though she wanted to argue with
him that nothing was stopping him from having more children
regardless of the second seat, her mind immediately thought
back to Mr. Nott and his predicament.
If not for Mr. Malfoy's offer to serve as his proxy, the wizard
would have very few opportunities that would pay him
nearly as well. Even with the comfortable living
he was afforded. She was certain his station, as
the third born son, had hinted him in finding a wife in some
capacity based on their discussion in the gardens.
It was also intriguing to learn that Mister Malfoy had not
originally intended to have Mr. not serve in that role in the
1st place. While it seemed unlikely, his
original plan to have Mr. Potter service's proxy in the interim
seemed like a logical compromise between the gentlemen.
However, if his claims of Mr. Potter's actions were true, it
was also logical that he rescinded the offer after such a
harrowing ordeal, as it would have left Mr. Malfoy unable to
trust that Mister Potter's wand would not be aimed at him again.
The thought of the wizard being so rash and quick to anger made
her glad that Mister Potter had left the village when he had.
She was not sure if she could fake a smile knowing that he had
nearly killed another wizard in cold blood.
Hermione wondered what, if anything, to share with her
sisters about him. Mr. Malfoy had asked for her
discretion, and she wasn't sure she could explain where or how
she'd come across the information without revealing
the truth. Ultimately, she decided to
refrain for now, only planning to divulge when she learned if
the wizard reappeared in Ottery St.
Catchpole. The final few paragraphs of his
letter had been the most transformative, in her opinion.
Mr. Malfoy's sincerity was palpable and she could feel the
emotions on the page. From where he applied too much
pressure and had nearly broken through the parchment.
It was the section of the correspondence where his regret
was most tangible. Hermione recalled how his
countenance had shifted so abruptly after she revealed she
had known he had previously called her mudblood.
His anger had immediately dissipated, replaced with a
solemn acceptance of her words and the offer of an apology.
His honesty in admitting he still had not fully overcome his
prejudices towards muggleborns only seemed to highlight how far
he had come in the time that she had known him.
The conviction in his vow to never speak the word again left
her in a state of shock, and she could find no part of her that
doubted the claim was true. It was the end of the letter
that left her feeling unmoored. Mr. Malfoy's final words felt
like a goodbye, one that left her wondering how it was only in
the aftermath of their acquaintanceship that she ever
felt she knew him at all.