Post by Draco Lucius Malfoy on Jun 12, 2012 8:22:18 GMT -5
Draco had been at Hogwarts for a few years now, having been potions master for the prestigious magical school since he had obtained his masters certificate from the Ministry. The Slytherin alumni had taken the offer from Professor McGonagall, the elderly witch having known that he was truly repenting for his actions, and the Malfoy heir still carried the burden on his shoulders from his past mistakes. His family were still viewed as traitorous by society, many still in fear of the once allied family with the Dark Lord. Draco himself had been a Death Eater, albeit having been forced into submission but still, his arm still bore the black ink of a skull and snake.
People still feared him, some despised him, attacked what his once Lord had done despite Draco himself never having participated in anything, it was the name that said it all. Malfoy. A name that many still feared today, it was a prestigious pureblood family which had a family tree dating back many centuries, all into the supremacy of those gifted with magic. Draco himself had realised the stupidity of this in his teenage years, and he had soon shed himself of such beliefs, his own son having no part in such a thing. Draco was glad he had been able to raise Scorpius as a normal child, his son could smile and laugh without people questioning why he wasn't being cold or heartless. The Slytherin facade had been the one thing Draco had mastered since childhood and while it wasn't as distancing nowadays, the platinum blonde still held that air of connectedness which seemed to reflect in his prideful posture and aristocratic features.
Writing up on the board with his wand directing the chalk, the instructions for the day were scripted in neat curled hand writting, the white stark against the black. Now, Draco just had to wait for students to show up.
People still feared him, some despised him, attacked what his once Lord had done despite Draco himself never having participated in anything, it was the name that said it all. Malfoy. A name that many still feared today, it was a prestigious pureblood family which had a family tree dating back many centuries, all into the supremacy of those gifted with magic. Draco himself had realised the stupidity of this in his teenage years, and he had soon shed himself of such beliefs, his own son having no part in such a thing. Draco was glad he had been able to raise Scorpius as a normal child, his son could smile and laugh without people questioning why he wasn't being cold or heartless. The Slytherin facade had been the one thing Draco had mastered since childhood and while it wasn't as distancing nowadays, the platinum blonde still held that air of connectedness which seemed to reflect in his prideful posture and aristocratic features.
Writing up on the board with his wand directing the chalk, the instructions for the day were scripted in neat curled hand writting, the white stark against the black. Now, Draco just had to wait for students to show up.