Chapter Text
It was easy to hear from Voldemort before all. Before he became real.
He was a myth, something that had happened before but wasn’t directly related to Draco. It was like the sky full of stars. Something incalculable but at the same time far away. Draco could hear his father talking about the victory they were able to have and how Voldemort had seen everything that made them superior.
The Malfoy Family.
The Black Family.
And Draco was a product of both.
The purity that existed in the blood that ran in his veins made him special. Long before Hogwarts, Draco amazed all of his tutors with the way he mastered his lessons. And every time he would run to his father’s study and tell him about the new spell he had learned, his father would look at him with pride but no surprise. Because obviously, Draco was exceptional with his magic. He was a Malfoy. And his mother would pat Draco’s hair and add that he was a Black too. And he would feel his chest swell with pride.
Sometimes he wondered if the Dark Lord would be proud of the way that Draco could disassemble a spell to its very essence and research Latin to create new magic. Draco could spend hours insisting on hearing about what it was like back in the day when the Dark Lord had used Malfoy House as his headquarters.
“You know? He blessed your birth.” His father told him once.
Draco was 8 years old and those words burned into his mind. His father’s voice made the action sound like something magical. As if the sky itself had blessed Draco.
“He wanted to send me on a mission with my sister.” His mother remembered and her lips twitched in a small, almost wistful smile. “So, I had to tell him I was pregnant.”
“And what happened?” Draco asked, interested, like everything that revolved around his family. “What did he tell you?”
“He put his hand on my lower belly.” His mother nodded to herself, confirming her memories. “The Dark Lord looked at me and said, ‘You and Lucius will have formidable descendants.’ And he was right. Draco, you are formidable.”
It was as if the sky full of stars had sparkled for him. Even for a second.
“But remember...” His father insisted.
“We don’t talk about the Dark Lord with others,” Draco nodded. “They wouldn’t understand.”
Because they hadn’t known him as his parents had. The people hadn’t understood the struggle that had been necessary. That was still needed. The Dark Lord was only protecting the Wizarding World. But the others didn’t understand. The Wizaring World, teir culture, their history, their customs were in danger in the face of the arrival of each new invader disguised as a descendant of Muggles. The others didn’t understand. Like the cloak of night, the Dark Lord had only wanted to protect them. Every wizard and witch who had grown up in the Wizarding World. And people like his parents joined him because they want the same thing. Because only the Dark Lord had seen how special they were. The special ones like Draco.
“Remember to make the right friends at Hogwarts.” Her mother would repeat the day Draco would have to leave the safety of his home and go to Hogwarts. “And anything else you need...”
“I’ll talk to Professor Snape.” Draco nodded, feeling a little better knowing he would have a familiar face with him.
Draco promised himself to shine for them. Like the sky full of stars.