The halls of Durmstrang feel colder than even the bitterest winters back home. The castle is vast, grand in its own way, but it lacks... warmth. Not that warmth ever suited a Malfoy, I suppose. Still, the absence of Hogwarts stings in ways I didn’t anticipate.
Here, power isn’t whispered about in hushed tones—it’s worn openly, like armour. The students revel in strength and ambition, and for the first time, I feel... at home. No pretence of redemption or ideals. Just raw power, and the hunger for more. Perhaps this exile isn’t a punishment after all. Perhaps it’s exactly where I belong.
The dark corridors of Durmstrang echo with the whispers of ancient magic, a language I am only beginning to understand. The professors here are not gentle guides, but fierce mentors who demand nothing less than excellence. They see the potential in me, the raw potential that Voldemort once saw, and they push me to harness it.
I find myself drawn to the forbidden knowledge hidden within the library's dusty tomes. Dark spells and rituals that Hogwarts would have shunned, here they are embraced as tools of power. I study them with a hunger that surprises even me, a hunger born of desperation to prove myself in this new world.
The other students eye me warily, aware of my family's past and the shadows that still linger around me. But I care little for their opinions. Their fear only fuels my determination to rise above their petty judgments. I will not be defined by the sins of my father or the whispers of my past.
In the dueling chamber, I find my true calling. The crackle of magic in the air, the rush of adrenaline as spells collide, the taste of victory as my opponent falls at my feet—it is here that I am most alive. Here, my skills are honed, my power tested, and my resolve hardened.
But amidst the thrill of battle, there is a nagging voice in the back of my mind. A voice that reminds me of the price of power, of the sacrifices I have made and will continue to make. It is a heavy burden to bear, but one that I carry willingly, for I know that it is the only way to ensure my survival in this unforgiving world.
I miss the familiar comforts of home, the elegant halls of Malfoy Manor, the whispered conversations in the Slytherin common room. But here at Durmstrang, I have found something far more valuable—a sense of purpose, a hunger for power that burns brighter than any fire.
I am no longer the boy who once craved approval, who sought validation in the eyes of others. I am Draco Malfoy, a man forged in the crucible of war and exile, unafraid to embrace the darkness within me. And as I stand on the precipice of greatness, I know that I will stop at nothing to claim my rightful place in the world.