Draco Lucius Malfoy

by Jade

38

age

Male

gender

5 June, 1980

birthday

blood status

Pureblood

sexual orientation

Heterosexual

occupation

Potions Professor at Hogwarts
Mechanical Engineer at Aurora Technologies
Alchemist | Potioneer 

general appearance

Draco is a Black and a Malfoy. This heritage defines his appearance---both in his features and the way he carries himself. For many years, his most prominent feature was the Malfoy quintessential platinum blond hair--but as he has aged, the pale strands have taken on a more golden flaxen shade reminiscent of his mother and a number of other Rosier relatives.

In his youth, he sported pale, sharp features that have matured into a strong, handsome face-- The wizard still has a very fair complexion. Without charms or protective salve, Draco easily burns in the sun. Outside of time spent flying and Quidditch, he has always preferred to be inside--particularly in a room with artifacts and red wine. 

The wizard stands a modest five foot ten inches. There are men taller, but he is comfortable with his stature. Many assume Draco to be taller than he actually is, because of the way he carries himself. He may have been put through a number of adversities with the ebb and flow of the political climate in the United Kingdom, but he has maintained a confidence in himself that manifests with a head held high and a straight back. Not one to let his body go, despite his interests in academia, Draco regularly swims to keep himself fit. This has given him a well toned body with lean muscles, but very little bulk to him.

former school

Hogwarts

former house

Slytherin

achievements

1st Year - 1991-1992
--Dueling Club & Mock Wizengamot Member

2nd Year - 1992-1993
--Seeker, Dueling Club & Mock Wizengamot Member

3rd Year - 1994-1995
--Seeker, Dueling Club & Mock Wizengamot Member

4th Year - 1995-1996
--Seeker, Dueling Club & Mock Wizengamot Member

5th Year - 1996-1997
--Prefect, Seeker, Inquisitorial Squad & Dueling Club Leader, Mock Wizengamot Member

6th Year - 1997-1998
--Prefect, Seeker, Dueling Club Leader, Mock Wizengamot Member 

7th Year - 1998-1999
--Prefect, Dueling Club Leader, Mock Wizengamot Member 

Occlumens

university

Bangor University & Gráinneog Institute

university major(s)

Bangor: Alchemy, Potionology
Gráinneog: Engineering, Muggle Studies

years attended

Bangor: 2000-2004
Gráinneog: 2003-2007

skills

Alchemy | Potions | Handsomeness | Charm | Occlumency | Compartmentalizing emotions | Clever, quick thinking | Dueling | Dark Magic | Flying | Wisdom and Skepticism | Organization | Calm | Resiliency | Curiosity | Deceit 

weaknesses

Malfoy name | Dark Mark | Mistakes of the Father | Depression | His mother | Affiliations with those outside the purist regime 

positive traits

Intelligent + Cunning + Patient + Rational + Responsible + Refined + Wise 

negative traits

Vain - Cold - Deceitful - Secretive - Unfeeling - Vindictive - Arrogant - Sardonic

hobbies/interests

Alchemy | Scotch | Books | Knowledge | Technology | Shagging | Quidditch

accomplishments

Multiple degrees
Has not killed his father
Has not be ousted as a traitor
Contributor to research that stabilized magical energy reservoirs that act as batteries for wixen technologies. 
Inventor of a wixen-friendly internet router that can be powered by magical energy reservoirs or electricity.

character history

You are surely familiar with the early parts of my life. A prejudicial telling though it surely was, the novels immortalizing the Boy who Lived do touch on the high points. Childhood was opulence. I was the only child of a Black and a Malfoy. Of course, I was spoiled. I was taught from my first birth that I was superiority incarnate.  There were no struggles then.  Those first years at Hogwarts you can understand well enough from the tales. It is only once I'm marked that you fail to really learn the truth of what went on in my life.  

Muggles would call it depression--but that word seems so inadequate for the stress, anxiety, and despair that consumed me after Voldemort tapped me as Dumbledore's assassin. It was suicide...and I did not want to die. I came to know Myrtle during that time. Ghost she might have been, but I do believe that dead muggleborn was my first true friend. I share honestly with her in a way I had never done with another soul. I am unsure I have ever been as open since. There was a rawness to my very existence then that maturity, experience and age has never allowed to return. 

I withdrew from those who were known to be my friends then. I kept up appearances, of course. But there had always been very little quality to the friendships I had with Goyle and Crabbe. They were dunces, but they had their purpose as muscle. For many years, they were easily controlled. As I pulled away from them, someone else came into my life: Astoria Greengrass. She discovered me once, when I was speaking in confidence to Myrtle. It was a more pleasant and fortuitous meeting than that the novels document between myself and Potter. 

I cannot pinpoint when I lay my secrets out for her. It was slowly done. The concern I saw in her eyes the first time she saw my mark is still clear in my mind. I believe I saw some bit of my mother in her. There was a genuineness to the expression I cannot well convey. I was afraid--and I did not feel I had to hide that fear from her. I sought out opportunities to spend time with her--and away from Goyle and Crabbe. Seventh year when I was a prefect and she was pinned with the same honor among the fifth year Slytherins, I made certain to have it arranged for us to patrol together.

The end of that year marked the end of months of terror hidden behind a mask of arrogance. For that I was thankful... But it also marked the end of the life as I knew it. There had once been a plan for my life. One laid out by Father: a man who in my youthful ignorance I had believed could do anything. Had I been familiar with the muggle hero Superman, I would have believed Lucius to be that invincible, all powerful man. I had learned in my teen years just how wrong I was about that when the Dark Lord had taken over Malfoy Manor and all I knew was destroyed. I was put upon a new path by that horrible man--a path where that I could not possibly succeed. After the Battle of Hogwarts, after what Mother had done for me, I saw no reason to try to go back to Father's path. I needed to forge my own way.

I continued to see Astoria. We found comfort in one another--physical intimacy was used to drive away the uncertainty. I started at Bangor, but I would come back to Hogsmeade when the opportunity was there. I cared for her, more than I admitted to myself or ever shared with her. I knew she had well laid plans. I knew she had a list of those she would consider taking as a husband. I knew I was not on the list. It was a wise decision, one that proved all the more wise once Durant had taken over from Shacklebolt-- Still, I was a young man perhaps in love. I thought she might reciprocate. We did not speak of it. Words like those are best left unsaid. Astoria was wise beyond her years knowing that security was most important--especially when she became pregnant. 

The boy was mine. He carried Goldstein's name...but I firmly believe the child had Malfoy blood within his veins. Merlin knows, I was angry when she married Goldstein--angry when the boy was declared the other wizard's son. I understood logically why she did it. But the heart does not always heed the logic of the mind. I acknowledge that there was uncertainty about the paternity. It was never verified. It can never be now. Hyperion died while Astoria and I were still at Bangor. I avoided her there in the beginning. It was petty. It wasn't until I learned that the boy I saw as our son had died did I seek her out. She was pregnant again then--this time with her husband's daughter. I still remember the taste of tears on her lips. 

I graduated that year and said a final goodbye to Astoria when I left Bangor.  I was angry with her for a long time. I understood her choices--all of them, but I was still angry. But there were others to fill my mind and my bed. It was never difficult to find someone happy to help me forget what had been lost. 

Those years were not bad ones. Alchemy and potionology were interesting, but I wanted to learn something new. Not wishing to lengthen my time at Bangor or to lower myself to Lufkin, I found intriguing opportunities at the Gráinneog Institute. We, Mafloys, stayed clear of the limelight. It was an time of adjustment--and I liked it. Since the fall of the Dark Lord, who I was had been rebuilt day by day. I learned familiar magics at Bangor--things I had long excelled in. But when I left there, I needed something new--something different. I wanted to know what I didn't known.

Engineering fascinated my analytical mind--and muggles, and their world, it was an anomaly to me. I did not like being ignorant to so many things. Father still to this day does not know I studied muggle studies there. I had them print up two diplomas instead of a joint one. It was not that I cared really what he would think about it...I just did not want the fight, the commentary. I avoided such conversations with Lucius, and still do, to salvage some remnant of what once between us. In my childhood, there was no man I looked up to more than my father--in adolescence, I saw the truth of the weak thing he was...and now, I await his death with apathy bordering on eagerness. If for no other reason, than I believe it would be better for my mother if Lucius was gone. Perhaps she could find someone else. Perhaps she already has. I wish this for her.

But yes, back to Gráinneog. It was a good time. I reconnected with Kate there. Fabulous shag, that one. My heart was cold, though, then...not that it is much warmed now. In another life, I might have made a life with her starting there. Instead, I shagged her every chance I got and thought not of the future, beyond what I might create technologically speaking. I began interning at Aurora what would equate to my junior year there. Exposure to technology, computers and the Internet was mind-boggling. I was and still am astounded by what muggles have managed to accomplish despite lacking magic. 

I went full-time at Aurora out of Gráinneog. Mucked around a lot outside of work trying to blend alchemy and engineering, some of it worked. We made this thing muggles would call a battery--but it is a bloody good bit more complicated than that. Very simply put, there was this material I had created using my alchemy expertise. A charm was crafted that allowed us to imbue that material with magical energy. The whole concept relies loosely on the First Law of Thermodynamics. 

I loved my work. It was interesting and challenging. I had built a life for myself where the Malfoy name did not matter. I had something solid and engaging. There were a few sparks of romance, but nothing stuck. I almost lost my heart once, but the cultural gap between us proved to be too great. Guess that was for the best, a muggleborn wife would not have made me a very good Death Eater, now would it? 

I'll let you in on a little secret. I'm a bit of a rubbish Death Eater all around. I can perform Dark Magic--even Unforgivables. But I don't have the hate or fear in my heart that drives most purist politics. I used to. Merlin knows I used to. When I was a kid, I was so bloody misguided. Then Mum did what she did at the Final Battle--after Father failed to protect us and our home--and I broke away from the old ways. Me and mine became priority. Self-preservation became the number one motivator for me. I wanted friends (or at very least, acquaintances) in every circle. I feigned holding to the old ways when in the old crowd; but, I was and still am different. 

As all good things seem to, the life I built for myself began to crumble as Durant exerted more and more power against the pureblood families. Things had been good for everyone under Shacklebolt, but that fact had set off those like Durant who believed the pure families needed to be punished. It was slow at first--fines and questioning. But after he had emptied our vaults, Durant still wanted more. The more he took was stripping us of our dignity... or trying. 

Father and I were sent to the work camp, because we had the mark. No matter what Mother had done, he and I had sworn allegiance to Voldemort. That was enough to get sentenced to manual labor. It was a load of rubbish--in many cases, quite literally. We lived and worked in Knockturn then. The Dementors swarming brought back the familiar aches of depression. Resentment grew in my heart then, more than ever; the majority of it, though, was directed at Lucius Malfoy. It was his fault I bore the Mark. It was his fault so many terrible things had come to pass in my family's past. He failed us; he failed me...and once again, I was paying for his failure. 

I knew change would have to come. There were too many prideful fighters in that camp for peace to reign. I did not buy into the purist politics, but I wanted my life back. I wanted to  do something worthwhile with my time. I had degrees on top of degrees. I understood the magical and muggle worlds. I could and should have been making the world a better place...but because of my parentage, I was breaking rocks for less than living wage. There was nothing just or right about that.

So, when the time came, I fought alongside the others who bore the Dark Lord's mark. I did not want to make enemies of them--and had hope that the world we rose up to build could be better than what Durant was trying to craft. I knew old prejudices would guide some decisions, but I never imagined they would go as far as they did. Kolna was no better than the work camp. Putting muggleborns into rubbish jobs was no more just or right than putting me into the work camp. 

I kept my voice quiet, though. I did not want to make my mother any target for the Death Eaters. She had suffered more than enough when the Dark Lord took over our house. No, I could not publicly speak out, but I could help where I could...and so I did, I worked with a group known as the Incolumem Sanctuary, transporting runaway muggleborns from the United Kingdom to France. Until the borders were locked down, I provided coin and time to help protect and feed those being mistreated by the Death Eater led government.

When the work camp and Durant were a thing of the past, I went back to Aurora. It felt good to be able to work again--to challenge my mind. I would have stayed there, content to blend technologies and magic--to bring the progress of the muggle world into the magical, but there are powers that be that believed I could better suited to a more prestigious job. I was not fond of the notion of working in the Ministry. I do my best to steer clear of politics...I said academia was where my heart lay--That statement led to me joining the Hogwarts staff.

And now here I am, sans magic, finding a new life...we'll see how that goes.

parents

The Lord Lucius Malfoy and The Lady Narcissa Malfoy nee Black

siblings

I am the sole heir to the Malfoy bloodline.

children

None living. There was a boy who never bore my name. I cannot say he was my son with certainty, but I feel the loss of him all the same. 

partner

None permanent. I am unsure I have the ability to love a woman properly. I surely never saw my father love my mother the way she deserved to be honored. I felt a kinship with Astoria in our youth. When I withdrew from those I called friends, she came to know me. Perhaps as best a boy of that age in a life of such horrors could, I loved her.

In the many years since those trying times, I have kept the company of a number of women. Witches of all heritages and demographics--muggleborn to purist, I have known them. There are faces that continue to show themselves over the canvas of my life. Still, none of them have become my wife. None of them have taken up residence in my heart. I cannot blame them--I expect it is a cold place.

other family

The Minister of Magic is my mother's older sister. Andromeda once was labeled a blood traitor. Now, she is married to the head of the Death Eaters--he was my late aunt Bellatrix's husband before her passing. The man is not one I am fond of. I am aware of the sins he has committed against my mother. Were I a vengeful man, I would swear him dead by my hand...but I have little stomach for killing anymore. Truthfully, I never was one for murder.

family history

Malfoy History:

The Malfoys might not be the Blacks, but they, too, are an old, aristocratic pure-blood wizarding family: one of the “Sacred Twenty-eight“.

Armand Malfoy was the first Malfoy in Britain, arriving with William the Conqueror in 1066. Armand was given land in Wiltshire by King William I where Malfoy Manor, a large, ornate house was built; this is where all of his descendants have resided for generations. All members of the Malfoys have been sorted into Slytherin House at Hogwarts. They for many generations were one of the wealthiest wizarding families in Britain, but they have a reputation for being “slippery”.

Despite their promotion of pure-blood ideologies, the Malfoy family have been known to ingratiate with non-magical society when it suits their interests.

Black History compliments of Mother's own words:

"The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black is one of the largest, oldest, and most certainly one of the wealthiest, pure blooded magical families in Wizarding Britain. One of the key families in the Sacred Twenty-Eight, many of the other families can trace their roots back to ours. Like many of the other families that are considered a part of this elite grouping, the House of Black is synonymus with elevated status, and wealth. The Black Family Tree, which once resided in Number 12 Grimmauld Place, has been relocated to 'Castle Black', or as it's actual name suggests, Blackmoor Ridge, in Northumberland. The tree dates back all the way to the Middle Ages, and continues to show the dominant lienage of the family up to present day.

Our family traces its origin back to the Middle Ages, and we claim to have entirely magical ancestry, but as my dearly departed cousin, Sirius Black, informed his godson Harry Potter, no true pureblood families existed by the twentieth century. The pureblood families like ours Blacks simply removed Muggles and Squibs from their family trees. We Blacks place a great importance on blood purity, considering themselves akin to royalty in the wizarding world and disdaining Muggles, Squibs, blood traitors, and Muggleborns. The family motto, which can be found on the family crest, is Toujours Pur, which means "Always Pure" in French. Many members took this phrase very seriously.

Because of our views, a large number of the Black family members practiced the Dark Arts and supported Lord Voldemort during the First and Second Wizarding Wars. A few Blacks even became Death Eaters, while many others never took the Dark Mark, myself included, but believed in the "purification" of the wizarding world nevertheless. Our hatred towards muggles is such that some members who are not outright Death Eaters would go to lengths to persecute them, such as Araminta Meliflua trying to pass a Ministry Bill to make Muggle-hunting legal.

The male line of the family was completely extinct after the death of both Sirius and Regulus Black, whom died without bearing children. However, the birth of Arcturus Black Lestrange, who bears my sister's, his mother's, name was well as his father's means that there is once again someone of pure blood that the family name, wealth, and power, can be left to upon his mother's death."

other

Draco was among those in the first wave hit by Epidemic X. He did not go to St. Mungo's. His magic was fully lost by September 30th, 2018. He has dealt with this reasonably well. He still has a house elf to assist with normal day-to-day life requirements. It was a minor inconvenience to require the elf to illuminate any room or fill the bath for him that annoyed him quite a lot. So, Draco has leased a flat in muggle London with running water and electricity. He is considering employing contractors to run electricity and water through one of the homes he owns. He has several properties around the United Kingdom--the majority under false names or owned by shell companies. He is not interested in losing everything again when/if the Death Eaters lose power. 

Steph has been consulted and has approved all mentions of Astoria in Draco's character history.


Could he have the Hogwarts group displayed? He isn't trying to flaunt that DE green.

face claim

Chad Michael Murray

status of application

complete

have you read the rules?

Si

how did you hear about us?

Xylomancy

roleplay sample

This epidemic was insanity. His aunt had just released patients back into the world. How were people supposed to go back to normal lives without magic? He had not even been at the hospital, but he could not go back to work. What kind of alchemist could he be as a man without magic? It was an impossibility.

Draco was not sure what to do. He was worried about his mother. She was fragile. He knew just how close she had come to the edge before...and now--now she had none of her mental barriers to protect herself from all the horrors in their past. His father was useless in providing legitimate emotional support to anyone. So, care for her fell to him. But he had no clue where to even start.

This felt all too familiar to him. It was as if he was having to rebuild his life again. Just as he had done after Voldemort fell. Just as he had after he had gotten free of the work camp. This was just one more restart. But now he had none of the tools he was familiar with--had once been gifted with to work with.

Draco was changed from the boy he had once been. He had lost some of his arrogance, and regained other pride for reasons other than just familial riches and blood status. As a child, he never would have thought of his mother working at all, much less as a barkeep in a no-name inn in the middle of nowhere. It was good for her, he thought, though, to have something to busy herself with--and to keep her from the memories that so heavily tarnished Malfoy Manor. Before the Dark Lord had taken over his childhood home, he had thought of the place as cold, but still home. Voldemort changed all that. Draco could not pass through the place without memories of those dark times pushing in on him. He was sure it was far worse for his mother.

He was looking for answers to all of this new life's questions--and for tonight, he was looking for those in the bottom of a scotch glass. This evening Draco sat alone at the Fleur de Lis bar, sipping something older than he was. He might end up with one of the girls employed here beneath him tonight. But it probably would not come to that. There always seemed to be someone around happy to give it up to him for free.

Accepted