Dear Diary,
And here, a first draft of my letter to my father.
Dear Father,
I'm writing to let you know I'm well. I've received permission from the Minister himself to write you this letter, and I'm sure you are fully aware that it will have passed under many eyes before it reaches you. There is so much that I want to tell you, but that I do not dare knowing that this letter will never remain private. Nonetheless, I shall make as complete an explanation of myself as I can.
There is little I can say by way of proof that I am as well - and as well off - as I say. I know all too well it may appear that I am under Imperius or some other form of coercion.
I am not. I am well, I am safe, I am happy, but for the fact that we are parted. In fact, if I am unhappy or unsafe in any way it is from your former cohort among the Death Eaters-some of whom may still consider me your lieutenant, others of whom may assume I am a traitor when they see me walking the streets, free.
But walking the streets I shall do. It is high time I became the master of my own destiny. Do you recall when I told you, lo nearly two years ago when we were reunited, that I would be no man's pawn again, not even yours? Well, I spoke true.
They tell me that you are not allowed to read the Prophet but I am sure that news must filter through in word of mouth and gossip. If this news has not reached you yet, though, let me be the one to tell you that the Manor is mine once again. Mine. Through my own efforts and my own success. I have made allies in the Ministry of my own.
If I am not engaged in some kind of conspiracy or fighting for my life, and can concentrate more fully on my investments, I daresay it will take me less than a year to refurnish the Manor. I have been gradually building up my capital. I have royalties that come from some potions work that I performed some time ago for a retail operation, and I have allies among many of the shops on Diagon Alley, including some that might surprise you.
I continue to consult from time to time at London United for generous fees. My research, though controversial, has found publication in one of the most respected journals in all the wizarding world, and I have every reason to believe that shall continue. I have allies in the potions world and among Healers.
I have made allies among the wizards and witches of my generation whose families and traditions were largely destroyed by the work of a madman, whether because they followed him or opposed him. For us, that is more a common bond than a dividing force. Nearly all the marriageable Slytherin women of my age are betrothed to Gryffindors already, did you know that? What you may not know is that it was the threat that you represented that drove them together. That threat created a common purpose among them where before there had been the old divisions.
I suppose I have you to thank for that, at least. And I shall thank you for the upbringing which taught me to fight passionately for that which I believe in. I believe in the Malfoy name, and our family's place among wizardkind being an exalted one, but Father, I also believe that you shall be remembered as the black sheep of the family. Our line has but two choices now - die out in disgrace like the Blacks, or rebuild our name and reputation, not by the overthrow of the Ministry and the rise of despotism, but the way I have already begun it.
I love you, Father, more than I have ever been able to say. But I am not the child who thought of you like a god once upon a time. Not any longer. And my duty to the family name and to myself begins to outweigh my duty to you as my sire. This is hard to write. So very hard. But these are the hard truths I have come to see through hard experience.
I am well placed, now, to potentially increase my influence at the Ministry quite openly. Honestly, I am nearly surprised that they have not asked me to publicly renounce you. Perhaps they feel my acceptance of the Manor makes it appear so already.
So much is about appearances. You are well aware, I am sure, that every accomplishment of mine I have had to fight against the negative effect of your name. This, more than anything, is what wore down my former worldview. After all, when I was a child, your influence only ever opened doors for me, it seemed, not slammed them in my face. But after the attack at the Department of Mysteries, well, you know all that changed.
I cannot change history and I cannot change the facts. All I can change is the appearances I present to the world at large, the world I live in, the world I am succeeding in.
All I can ask is your forgiveness that I have chosen a path that takes me away from you, your understanding of why, and beg your trust that I love you no less than before, regardless what appearances may present. I shall neither forget you nor deny you, but argue for your rehabilitiation. Likely my arguments will fall on deaf ears-too many are dead at your hand and in your name for me to have much effect these days. The solution is once again the same, for me to restore the name Malfoy and place myself in a position of influence with works of benevolence, such that I might be heeded in the future.
You, after all, taught me the gentle art of persuasion, and that charm I intend to use fully.
Your son,
Draco Malfoy
Dear Father,
I'm writing to let you know I'm well. I've received permission from the Minister himself to write you this letter, and I'm sure you are fully aware that it will have passed under many eyes before it reaches you. There is so much that I want to tell you, but that I do not dare knowing that this letter will never remain private. Nonetheless, I shall make as complete an explanation of myself as I can.
There is little I can say by way of proof that I am as well - and as well off - as I say. I know all too well it may appear that I am under Imperius or some other form of coercion.
I am not. I am well, I am safe, I am happy, but for the fact that we are parted. In fact, if I am unhappy or unsafe in any way it is from your former cohort among the Death Eaters-some of whom may still consider me your lieutenant, others of whom may assume I am a traitor when they see me walking the streets, free.
But walking the streets I shall do. It is high time I became the master of my own destiny. Do you recall when I told you, lo nearly two years ago when we were reunited, that I would be no man's pawn again, not even yours? Well, I spoke true.
They tell me that you are not allowed to read the Prophet but I am sure that news must filter through in word of mouth and gossip. If this news has not reached you yet, though, let me be the one to tell you that the Manor is mine once again. Mine. Through my own efforts and my own success. I have made allies in the Ministry of my own.
If I am not engaged in some kind of conspiracy or fighting for my life, and can concentrate more fully on my investments, I daresay it will take me less than a year to refurnish the Manor. I have been gradually building up my capital. I have royalties that come from some potions work that I performed some time ago for a retail operation, and I have allies among many of the shops on Diagon Alley, including some that might surprise you.
I continue to consult from time to time at London United for generous fees. My research, though controversial, has found publication in one of the most respected journals in all the wizarding world, and I have every reason to believe that shall continue. I have allies in the potions world and among Healers.
I have made allies among the wizards and witches of my generation whose families and traditions were largely destroyed by the work of a madman, whether because they followed him or opposed him. For us, that is more a common bond than a dividing force. Nearly all the marriageable Slytherin women of my age are betrothed to Gryffindors already, did you know that? What you may not know is that it was the threat that you represented that drove them together. That threat created a common purpose among them where before there had been the old divisions.
I suppose I have you to thank for that, at least. And I shall thank you for the upbringing which taught me to fight passionately for that which I believe in. I believe in the Malfoy name, and our family's place among wizardkind being an exalted one, but Father, I also believe that you shall be remembered as the black sheep of the family. Our line has but two choices now - die out in disgrace like the Blacks, or rebuild our name and reputation, not by the overthrow of the Ministry and the rise of despotism, but the way I have already begun it.
I love you, Father, more than I have ever been able to say. But I am not the child who thought of you like a god once upon a time. Not any longer. And my duty to the family name and to myself begins to outweigh my duty to you as my sire. This is hard to write. So very hard. But these are the hard truths I have come to see through hard experience.
I am well placed, now, to potentially increase my influence at the Ministry quite openly. Honestly, I am nearly surprised that they have not asked me to publicly renounce you. Perhaps they feel my acceptance of the Manor makes it appear so already.
So much is about appearances. You are well aware, I am sure, that every accomplishment of mine I have had to fight against the negative effect of your name. This, more than anything, is what wore down my former worldview. After all, when I was a child, your influence only ever opened doors for me, it seemed, not slammed them in my face. But after the attack at the Department of Mysteries, well, you know all that changed.
I cannot change history and I cannot change the facts. All I can change is the appearances I present to the world at large, the world I live in, the world I am succeeding in.
All I can ask is your forgiveness that I have chosen a path that takes me away from you, your understanding of why, and beg your trust that I love you no less than before, regardless what appearances may present. I shall neither forget you nor deny you, but argue for your rehabilitiation. Likely my arguments will fall on deaf ears-too many are dead at your hand and in your name for me to have much effect these days. The solution is once again the same, for me to restore the name Malfoy and place myself in a position of influence with works of benevolence, such that I might be heeded in the future.
You, after all, taught me the gentle art of persuasion, and that charm I intend to use fully.
Your son,
Draco Malfoy