Yatta yatta. I can't do HTML and my saving thing doesn't like me, so these things (-these-) work as my italicizing thinamajigs. Draco and all else belong to the lovely Rowling. I suck.



Bewildering.



He did not understand.

No, he could not quite grasp it, the concept always inches from his face, mocking him with its very presence. Every time he reached for it, pale hands darting, it laugh and flew further.

He had everything, of course. What else -was- there? Nothing that he knew of, surely, for father would not leave anything that was not dire out.

One by one, count them. All of it was so important, so grand, he ought to have been championed a god upon coming to the school. Lucius would have told him if there was anything else in life, mother would have doted it.

Not that he cared. Or wanted them to care.

Look, he said. I've got money. The heaps and heaps of galleons are uncountable, so aren't you jealous? See all of that gold, the sparkling galleons, knuts are incomprehensible because there is no space between the glitter of gold.

Right, is not that great? Makes a person want to associate themselves with such wealth, does not it? That is quite some power right there.

Funny how they did not seem to notice how great it was. No, of course they would care. So, let us boast about it.

Boasting was a good thing, of course they cared. They ought, after all. They should respect his power, and his wealth, and. care to at least give him a second look, if not come trotting eagerly over.

This did not seem to work any better. They appeared disgusted (imagine!) at his words, flocking to the horrors of a Weasley or Longbottom.

Perhaps they hadn't heard him correctly, then. But, nonetheless, we can move on. Of course we can, and to the next matter.

Slytherin! The finest house, all others were really unacceptable. Father said as much.

'I suppose if your mother,' notable glare to said person, 'refuses to accept Durmstrang, Slytherin will have to settle.'

He had said as much to the Pot, but that had not much effect. Well, Hogwarts would reflect the grandeur of his precious Slytherin. He of course would get in, and they would love him. Not that he needed their love, or cared for it.

Strange. No one seemed to like Slytherin much. You would think they would have been proud of all that dark wizard achievement, but not really. Even then, as great as the dark wizard thing was, it wasn't as if the -other- houses had never produced them.

Fine, well, Slytherin did not need their approval either. He did not care for the other houses, and even if they did not see it, it was the best.

Of course it was, and he would cling to that.

Of course! They would see him as a pure blood, without any muggle influence tarnishing his precious blood, magic flowing naturally from his blood. That was an impressive feat was it not?

Perhaps they did not know of it, had been misinformed. So, once again, he would resort to bragging. Or, telling them of his celestial blood, and being duly proud of it. He had every right, and they would like that. Perhaps like him.

.Not that he wanted to be liked. .

.Not that he needed them.

Funny how they turned away; to people like Granger. How muggle-born, -mud bloods- were achieving higher marks. He was not stupid, not really. He had not tried because it should have come simply, he was told it would.

And then it did not, and he was forced to glance at those books. And the muggle-born did better, even with tainted blood. And they liked it, too.

Fine, fine, but look! I've got power, I am powerful. Can you not see?

He collected two brutes, strong boys, large and great. They would defend his wit, as that was what it could only be.

So, he was powerful. He had strength and mind on his side, see my power? Admire that, and my father's status, and me, because I am great.

.Odd, because coward never seemed to be one of his father's synonyms for great. They said he hid behind them. No, no, simply working with a situation. Acquiring power where one lacked it. See?

Awesome, brilliant, yes?

His hair was fixed back neatly, robes expensive and reflecting fine taste. But they preferred muddy and torn clothing.

Father was great and all-knowing. Kind and intelligent, he had -never- steered his song wrong. He graced him with desired presents and told him all he needed to know.

Good things: Wealth, Slytherin, Purity of Blood, Power, Appearance. Power.

Pride in the family, respect of the father.

He was a virtual god in light of all that. They had not seen it, simple ignorance on their parts. So, it was his duty to remind them.

Why didn't they care? Why couldn't they care?

Again. Not that he did. Or needed them, friends being some weakness and silly. All he needed were the correct means of advancement, father had said as much.

He had everything!

He was never lonely, or bitter, of course not. Bitter towards..

Potter, Weasley and Granger. They had -nothing-, nothing important.

When had nothing become everything?