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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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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