Chapter 1
Well Harry says I should start writing, so here goes. This is the story of how I died. Today has been odd, cathartic is the word that would best describe it I guess. You never think that you'll watch your own funeral, I always assumed that at my own funeral I'd be dead, so all in all it's been an odd day.
I don't think my mother would have been able to see me even if I wasn't hidden under the invisibility cloak. Don't get me wrong I hated seeing her cry, I'm not an animal, contrary to what others may think. My father, well he stood stoically, forever a Malfoy.
I feel really bad for Ron in particular, who at this moment is in my coffin. Harry says I should point out here that Ron isn't dead. He's merely playing my corpse with the help of a good dose of Polyjuice Potion, he should be with us shortly, with the help of the Portkey that is in my coffin that is set to fall on his face. I must admit that I am grateful that we don't have to dig up my grave, I don't really fancy grave robbing, it always looks very unseemly.
I had to go to my funeral though, had to see if they bought it, that I was dead. I looked at my parent's and turned to Harry and Hermione as we huddled under the invisibility cloak, I spoke quietly "they believe it, I'm dead". It's not that I wanted to see them broken, no I'm pretty sure that this goes deeper. As the war went on I couldn't face being a Malfoy anymore, there's death and bad feeling connected to that name.
We waited until after my parents left the graveside, even then we waited under the invisibility cloak for 10 extra minutes, and so here I am sat by my own graveside writing this, trying to work out who I am now. So far I've settled on the name Drake, it's not a million miles from Draco, but it's far enough.
Ron appeared making us all jump. He was lay rigid on the ground. Hermione reversed the Body-Bind Curse she'd put on Ron. Ron stood up and took the bottle of water from Hermione. He was grinning and asked "so did they buy it you being dead?" I nodded. Ron carried on "have to say mate of all the things to be scared of, claustrophobia isn't one I'd of guessed, you call yourself a Malfoy". We all knew that Ron was joking. I looked at my grave, my name written in stone. I touched the headstone, I looked at Ron and spoke "I'm not a Malfoy, not anymore". I touched the stone one last time as I spoke my parting words "goodbye, Draco Malfoy".
As we walked away I pointed my wand at my head changing my usual blonde hair to Weasley red. Ron looked, and shook his head trying not to laugh. I tried many colours eventually settling on brown.
But to get to this, my funeral, we need to go back, maybe not to the very beginning, although Harry says 'it's a very good place, to start'.