Dear Draco,
From one child of an absent father to another, I understand. My father left my family on my 11th birthday. I know we can’t relate in terms of a physically absent father, considering your father, Lucius, isn’t physically absent. However, we can in terms of an emotionally absent father. My father had been emotionally absent for months leading up to my 11thbirthday. I understand the pain that comes with the conscious feeling that your father is gradually losing interest in being your parent. In your case, that’s all you’ve ever known. Lucius Malfoy is like a seesaw when it comes to being a father; on one end, he’s emotionally absent in your life, and on the other, he’s emotionally abusive, and you never know what you’re going to get. Lucius only gets involved in your life when it fits his agenda. He sprang into action after Buckbeak attacked you, but not because he was concerned about your well-being. To him, that was nothing but a perfect opportunity to get Hagrid in trouble, because when Professor Moody turned you into a ferret, there was no one he wanted to get in trouble. There was no opportunity for personal gain, so he turned the other cheek.
I’m going to assume you don’t agree with me, considering your famous one-liner is “my father will hear about this”. You idolize him, as any son does with his father. You talk about him constantly, despite the disgust he relentlessly expresses towards you. Surprisingly, this is not uncommon, as studies have shown that abandoned sons often have one of the many variations of emotional intensity related to their absent father. You overidentify with your father and, as I mentioned, idolize him. Whether this idolization is based off of the real father Lucius is, or the fantasy father you wish he would be, it completely contrasts the lack of interest and feelings Lucius reciprocates. When you brag about your father to others, which is the majority of what you do for seven books straight, it almost seems like you’re not only trying to convince others of how much your father loves you, but you’re trying to convince yourself as well. This behavior, emotional overcompensation, along with overidentification, are simply coping mechanisms. Overcompensation involves substituting a strength or capability in a specific area to offset real deficiency in another. Overidentification occurs when one closely, perhaps too closely, associates oneself with other individuals and their characteristics or views. It’s hard to face the reality of something as painful as realizing your father is completely disinterested in something he created; a living, breathing, extension of himself. Trust me, I know. However, these coping mechanisms aren’t healthy, and in fact, they’re actually dangerous. During the Battle of Hogwarts, you risked your life by staying in the castle to thwart Harry, and to impress your father. You joined the Death Eaters to take your father’s place when he was imprisoned at Azkaban. One would think following in your father’s footsteps would warrant his approval, but instead, you received nothing but increased pressure and disappointment from him. Not only are these coping mechanisms being used in response to the emotional absence and emotional abuse your father expresses towards you, but also to the effects of being the child of a raging narcissist. Narcissists lie, distort, and manipulate in order to create their ideal reality. They are charismatic and don’t take criticism well, but are quick to give it to others. The son of a narcissist, raised by a self-centered, competitive, arrogant father, can never do enough to gain his approval. He’s critical and controlling of your every move, and belittles your mistakes, vulnerability, and failures. Lucius, like most narcissists, has little to no consideration for others, even his loved ones, and will do whatever it takes to advance his agenda. Even if it means putting his or her own son in danger.
You became a death eater at sixteen years old. You were a child. He left you and your mother to fend for yourselves. During your second year at Hogwarts he set plans to release the basilisk, not even considering the chance of it coming face to face with his own son. He brought you, as a child, to Knockturn Alley, a famously dangerous and shady place. He raised you around people who had murdered, or attempted to murder, others. He taught you that the way to make friends was to make sure people know where you stand on the pureblood supremacy upon meeting them. It’s no wonder you are the way you are. Children have no choice as to how they are raised, it’s ultimately up to the parent to decide, to an extent, what kind of person their child will be. Again, being a narcissist, Lucius has no self-awareness, and the chances that he considered “maybe I shouldn’t raise my child to be like me” are very, very slim. This is assuming that he was concerned with how he was raising his child, and that he didn’t see you as merely investment, a one-dimensional reflection of himself to use for his own personal gain. Again, the chances of this being very, very slim.
I believe one can deviate from the behaviors and character that developed as a result of their upbringing. You did this, as much as you could, and there were several moments in which we saw the good in Draco Malfoy. You couldn’t bring yourself to kill Dumbledore. You chose to protect Harry at Malfoy Manor in front of death eaters, your parents, and Voldemort himself. Ultimately, you realized the wrong in being a death eater and didn’t stay one. The Cursed Child reveals that you don’t teach your son the pureblood supremacy ideology your father forced on you. You believed Harry when others didn’t, despite your rivalry, like when he was telling everyone that Voldemort was back. In the end, we see that, like your wand, made of unicorn hair at its core, there is unextinguished good in your heart, regardless of how often we can see it at the surface.
From one child of an absent father to another, I want you to know that you are valuable. You are worthy of love, and deserving of compassion, and your father is not the one who dictates that.
