milliways_bar | (no subject)

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After speaking with his mother in the cells, Draco had a great deal on his mind. He'd leave Ramon alone, as long as the muggle left them alone. Seemed simple enough.

But that still left the matter of the Riders. He was released from the Dark. But was one ever completely free? Especially if the past returns to haunt you again?

He had a couple of options, but this time since the weather was nice this evening, he took to the skies on his broom. Nothing but dark fields underneath, and the cool light of the moon and stars overhead.

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Ginny walks out back seeing Draco she unrolls her skate rug and sets it down steps on it and then lets out a squeal at the feeling of flight.

Draco hadn't noticed her yet, or he might have, and is simply ignoring at the moment. Currently he was circling, and occasionally doing spirals and loops. He then dove, and went to skim across the top of the lake before pulling back hard for a sharp incline into the sky again. He then circled back toward the fields and forest again.

Ginny watches him as she then rights her self standing up straight as she goes up slowly.. she's still scared of falling off.. She looks down at the ground as she goes up higher taking her wand out just in case she falls

Draco seemed to be ignoring her still. Or was he?

Maybe there's now a sudden divebombing wizard who does a sharp swoop around the precarious looking rug and figure.

Ginny squeals as she falls off trying to avoid him and she does a quick spell to land soflty as she groans out then does another spell

"ACCIO RUG"

And it's right back down to her

Well, that was fun. Draco circles around, and seems to fly into trees. Let's see if she tries to do that again. He could do this all night.

She gets back up on the rug then heads up to him again she's got no fear and she's about mad

Ah, but where was he? The sky seemed free of broom-riding prats.

Oh, wait, what's this? Here he comes, zooming and spiraling around sharply for another go of his new favorite game, Knock the Weasley Out of the Sky.

The Weasley squeals. Almost falling but does a quick spell to make sure her feet don't come off the rug.. but she does go flip around and round..

Whoops, was that bump under the rug, coming from the tail end of a broom to knock her off again?

And somebody laughing his arse off about it?

She spins as she has to fall back on the cushion spell she had under her as she groans out after landing with a "UGHPH"

He's being watched from below, with something that might amount to pride.

His son, excels at so much. He has raised him well.

Hasn't he?

Draco had thought he had. Now he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure of a lot of things.

Hence taking to the air, and flying certainly helped. He saw his father below, and debated landing. No, not yet. A few more times.

"Just a bit longer! I want to go even higher!" A much younger Draco once said on his practice broom over the Manor, swooping, and going into spirals. Things seemed much more innocent then.

And yet not entirely, a few incidents here and there might have said otherwise. But it didn't get really bad until the Dark Lord returned. Then it all went to hell really.

Always striving, even as a young man, that's what Lucius saw. Higher, always higher.

A smile spread across his face at the memory.

And more memories, the look on Dracos face when he first got his first broom. When he cast his first spell.

When he tortured his first Muggle.

Draco did seek that. But he also sought escape in some ways. Especially now with what had happened. Escape from his name, from his troubles. From himself. Or he did. It took a great deal to face himself.

He remembered all of those as well. So young. How happy they were with the spell he used. A hex. And that Muggle. A wisp of a girl, barely into her teens. She looked pretty pathetic, with her face scuffed up, and her clothes were hardly better than the sacks Dobby wore. And how she screamed. And how he laughed. It seemed like a game, and she was simply a toy. An object to be done with as he pleased.

And if it broke, no matter. It was only a simple toy.

Nothing at all.

And yet... "How many millions of muggles are there to every one wizard? ...Six billion muggles on the planet. Are you telling me there's a little under six billion wizards?"

"From what I've read, the atomic bomb has something to do with it. ...It's very efficient at killing, apparently... Over fifty thousand in one go, from what I've read."

Who was truly more superior?
The figure on the broom paused in midflight, very high in the air. Poised near the clouds.
Wizard?
Then the figure dove straight toward the earth like a falling star.
Or Muggle?

Draco turned up at the last second, the broom stopped just before brushing the ground, and landed.

No matter how many times you ask, Lucius will always say Wizard.

He will bring up history, of Narlois Black, who was responsible for that so-called meterorite in russia around the turn of the century.

Farther back, Thominas Malfoy, the first Wizard to pass to the new world. He was always proud of blaming Croatoan for his work.

And then Lucius would go on to say that mere brute force does not matter. A single spell, and the bomb ceases to fall, or stops working, or reverses direction. By being wizards, they can do anything, with only a wand. To change from hurt to heal, a Muggle needs so much more.

But that lies unsaid for now.

"You are amazing upon a broom."

Perhaps, and yet Draco had Doubt. Serious, possibly life-changing doubt.
And he was wondering who should be more afraid of whom? And perhaps that was the real reason for the hate? The real reason so many want to do away with them?

Because there's more of them than of us. And they have powers of their own. And they could wipe us out easily... Dangerous thoughts to have, very dangerous.

Yet, he soaked up the praise like the soothing balm it was. What he needed.

"Thank you, Father," he acknowledged with a slight bow of his head.

Lucius turns, to admire the lake for a moment.

"So funny, that even here, at the end of time, a piece of our world survives. That given so many worlds to choose from, it is the Wizarding world which is represented."

"The bar itself contains magic. Likely another wizard helped with all of this," Draco remarked. Even though he didn't who it was. Especially the fact it was a relative of his and his mother's. Namely Sirius.

Actually, it was Peter, for Sirius.

"I like to think our world is important."

He likes to think a lot of things.

"It is, in its own way," Draco agreed.

A soft smile for his son.

"Keep up the good work."

And he walks away.

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