Book 1, Chapter 01, It's not our fault, we were cursed.

It started with blurry visions.

Then they got clear.

The house, all in black, grey and white marble. High ceiling, tall columns. Sculptures everywhere, exquisite furniture, clothes and sheets made out of the finest silk. Shoes, gloves and bags out the best leather. Gold embroidery. Silver cups, silver plates and silverware, crystal glasses with silver or golden edges. 

My crib was made with ebony. Engraved with, guess what ? Gold again. 

Ok, we’re rich. I think between Cinderella’s father and Richy Rich. No further precision for now. 

You could also see massive moving paintings on all the walls, depicting our ancestors, and their supposed mighty deeds. So blond and white I almost shitted myself thinking I was in Twilight. Note for myself, don't scare the babies, get a tan sometimes. My scare moment passed and I took a closer look at the moving paintings. If the paintings can move, the leather gloves, bags and shoes must be out of dragon's skin. (I will pull it off better than you Bill Weasley, or was it Charly ? I’m starting to forget the details now. Stupid baby’s brain...)

All said, how can I resume the situation ?

Yessss ! ! !

I can tell you now, I was beyond happiness when I realized I was in a magic world. THE Magic World. Harry Potter’s one. 

Then I saw my mother with her blond and black hair. 

I knew that she didn't get the role to play my aunt as she planned first during her audition.

Then I saw my father with his Legolas' loooong platinum long hair. 

I even saw the pillow case wearer house-elf, currently punishing himself by hitting his head with a pan, (He almost dropped me while changing my sheets earlier today), until my mother started scolding him again, for startling me up with a jump. Drums and cymbals don't go well with lullabies, which he apparently he wasn't informed of. Now he had to punch himself, but outside and quietly. 

I’m in Harry Potter universe. 

But in the wrong side. 

I’m a pure-blood and obviously I will be a Slytherin. Like all the racists, supremacists and liars hiding their real ancestry.

My name is Draco Malfoy.

For god's sake, I’m one of the hated characters for being canon-MC’s bully and killing Dumbledore. When they don't pair us in their fanficts (HP and me, not the old man).

How am I to stay alive, when I know HE's coming back ? 

Did you forgot that each of the faction's leader can read minds ? And that Severus Snape can do it too. 

And I will be a traitor... 

Each faction will hate me... 

They will hate me with all their Heart. 

---

 

- He CAN'T be dead, the Dark Lord can't be defeated. Screamed my brown haired aunt. (Yeah, HER ! For god sake’s Felton, I know you had a crush on the actress, but her character's freaking me out right now. Thankfully, mom holded me tighter to calm me. Aunty dearest wasn't in the right mood to take care of me. Not that I ever wanted her presence even when she was in good mood). 

- Everybody’s saying the same thing, Bella. Answered my mother. 

- Well they’re all WRONG ! I’m his most loyal servant, and I will go find the truth. I will prove it to all of you, you unfaithful scoundrels, our Master CAN'T be defeated by a blood-traitor, a mudblood and a bastard-child. She said nicely, storming out. (What ? It was nice coming from her. You know she’s a crazy psychopath, why do you think I pooped my diapers the first time I saw her ? I still have nightmares about that night). 

Two of the wizards followed her. One of them would never be seen again. (Come on, don't tell me you never wanted to use that cliché about someone. And if I use it on an asshole like him I will be less likely to raise flags later with someone I care about. I will explain his fate later. Just keep reading). 

Others did the same. Or pretended, at least. Fleeing, leaving the sinking boat, turning their coat, strange how many different ways there’s to explain this situation. 

The dark lord defeat left a bad taste in their mouths. Gone were the days where they could walk in the muggle world to kill some clueless and innocent victims. Their screams would no longer resonate in their basement. They would not be able to blackmail entire families and extort money, heirlooms, favours... The time of the Little haunted House in the meadows was gone for good. (Yeah I just changed a TV show's name. I hated it, you will know why later). 

My father was already planning how to survive. When all the others were gone, he took my mother and I to talk. (Yeah, I know, he obviously wanted to talk to her only, but you really don't want to leave a baby next to Dobby. Especially if he want to protect him. That's who they should have sent to kill Harry, IMO). 

- We must contact the Ministry of Magic. 

- The Ministry ? Why ?

- Best to contact them first, and pretend to have been under the Imperium curse, than to wait for them to burst in the Manor to arrest us. 

- How would you prevent them from doing so ? Continued my mother, holding me. 

- Cornelius Fudge. The director of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. 

- What about him ? 

- Word from inside the Ministry is that he just got a huge case involving your cousin Sirius. 

- Sirius ? He’s neither a dark arts', nor the Dark Lord's supporter. There never was a more traitorous wizard to his blood.

- That would be the general opinion, but he still got arrested for giving Him the Potter's location. 

- You told me it was this small Pettigrew man. 

- That's what HE told us before he went to Godric’s Hollow. But that nasty reporter on my payroll, who work for the Daily Prophet, warned me about what was supposed to be the front page’s article before the news of the Dark Lord's disappearance came out. Sirius Black was captured in broad daylight, without resistance, cackling like a madman. That madman Maugrey was in charge of escorting him to Azkaban. He’s being charged with spying for Him and murdering Pettigrew along with a street-full of muggles. What's left of Pettigrew amounted to a single severed finger. 

- How would his demise or Sirius' arrest help us. It look more like they will associate us whit him to bring us down. 

- Not if we plead to have been under the Imperium's curse. But we have to act first and fast. Before anyone else try to change side. Your sister will help us. 

- Bella ? Never ! She would more likely go down fighting the aurors as a whole before she could ever think about leaving His side. 

- I never said she would do it willingly. But between your cousin's downfall and her soon to be capture. And she will be with what she has in mind. We can brush them as the bad sheep of the family. We would have done nothing bad ourselves but being victims to their curses along His. 

(I couldn't follow more of the discussion. You really can't blame me, my body is sixteen months old.)

---

Next "awake" situation I witnessed was my father cajoling old Fudge.

He didn't look that different from the movies. Shorter then dad, grey hair already, a little nervous from the moment he came to Malfoy’s Manor. 

A total sucker for the old families and their pure blood. 

From the start of the discussion to it's end, my father must have thanked him a five dozen times, inflating his ego, more and more.

His speech included thanking him for coming so fast even with his buzzy schedule, thanking him for checking on their health (by sitting and not moving from his couch). For understanding their pain as they just got out of the imperium's effects.

Also for showing our family he would not hold against us Malfoy what the two notorious and nefarious Black cousins did. (Yeah, aunty-dearest was caught along with a disabled accomplice and the corpse of what's-his-name-third-wheel having being killed by male-deatheater-number-one by mistake, messing up Neville Longbottom's life and childhood by torturing his parents. I wonder how a fanfic about him being the chosen one would go ? Would Harry be an ass like his father ? Would Neville’s grand-ma change her behaviour knowing he’s the chosen-one ? Well, I will never know).

All said, my father must have talked from a little after 09 AM to well in the afternoon. Cornelius not seeing anything wrong with enjoying our lunch, or wasting so mutch of his precious time doing nothing. 

After lunch, my father kept talking about redeeming his name and his family’s. Investing and donating money left and right. Nothing illegal was found by the implicated parties when he asked the future minister of magic if he could act as the middle man for us, allowing him to pocket a sizeable sum in gold as my father's representative. 

The man was so mutch in my father's claws at time he didn't even check the amount. Or if the gold was real. (Note for myself. Find how the goblins check how to differentiate real gold and fake one, don't want to get scammed like the twin red-head pranksters. And no, I didn't follow everything in one go. Baby, remember ? It's just that my father was insistent on what was oh so important for a victim like us, and how people would see us. And that Dobby woke me up breaking a vase).

Too bad I couldn't award him Oscars, Emmys, and the rest, he really earned them. (Even the tears, and he wasn't even looking at Oprah's show).

The following days went by, along with visits from St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries' healers (Following a nice donation from daddy-dear). We all went under examination, without leaving the Manor, (Money oblige), to check if us being "under a curse" left any problems or not.

We also got a visit from the director of the Daily Prophet and the green she-goblin, for an interview of my genitor. 

He was so all about being glad that the period of darkness was finally over. That the Magic community would heal herself with time. 

You could really see his duplicity here. 

In public, he told everyone that Harry Potter could become a beacon of hope for the surviving Magical community. 

In private ? When my mother asked him about rumours on Harry Potter defeating the Dark Lord ? He thought that should "the young Potter" really have enough power to defeat him, he could become their new lord, and that it would be up to me to win his favours... Not even 2 years old and the old fart was already planning to use me as a pawn to up his game. 

 

While the life at Malfoy’s Manor took a turn for the better for everyone without Voldy, aunty-Bella, and the rest of the crazzy-merry-bunch, except for guess who ? Dobby, who got punished for messing with one of the white peacock feather-tail. Now it was all crooked when the nasty thing tried to open his feathers... Father got someone to fix it. A real emergency compared with people having lost their lives, their homes, their relatives. You could see how corrupt the magic world was, as they all but crawled in front of us. Money, money, money... 

Father didn't even try to visit Bellatrix. Neither did my mom. They didn't try to afford her an attorney or it's Magic equivalent either. It was like every deatheaters' family or relative, got a memory charm cast on them and forgot the very existence of all former deatheaters.

Handy, isn't it ?

Newspapers (not just the Prophet), were talking non-stop about the court session for all Voldemort's former followers. 

I even saw the Daily Prophet's front page with Barty Croupton Jr and his trial. His dad really remind me of Spiderman's old boss at the journal. Same moustache. I hate both of them. 

Professor Snape got put on the stand, but it ended being only a formality with Dumbledore’s backing him. 

I saw articles about Pettigrew's mother, receiving Merlin's order 3rd class for her late (still rat-alive) son. (Not sure I should be thankful you won't be here to learn of the truth later).

I even puked my milk on a picture of some of the Ministry of Magic’s employees. Bull's eye, mates, right on the pink frog's face... 

Good thing about being a baby, you can read everything you want, adults won't stop you as you can't "read" anything.

Bad thing about being a baby, you can't read everything you want, adults will stop you from messing with ink, quills, scrolls, letters, etc... to stop you from playing with it. 

At least I won the right to "play the grown-up" and "mimicking daddy" with his journal. Which I was entitled to keep after he was done with it. 

Articles and photographs showed the British magical community having fun without fear of exposure nor respect for the international laws on secret. They even got Millicent Bagnold's interview and her new catchphrase. 

Famous Ravenclaw Ministers for Magic Milicent Bagnold, defended the wizarding celebrations all over Britain with the words : "I assert our inalienable right to party".

 

Like that went the first three weeks of my life. Eventful to others but still boring to baby-me. 

I so want to grow up...