【Picture On The Wall】

　　　　　　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Written by 歐德莉
　　　　　　　　　　　　　For my dear friend, Cest











○正文開始○





I was ten then, an age too old for an infant, yet still too young for a man.


Most boys when they’re ten─────actually “all ten–year-olds”, boys or girls, would have known a whole lot of people by then.





All but except for me────





Colin Malfoy, the queer ten-year-old of Yorkshire, Malfoy Manor, son of Sir. Draco Lucius Malfoy.


「Colin Malfoy, the queer ten-year-old of Yorkshire, Malfoy Manor, son of Sir. Draco Lucius Malfoy.」was just how I would address myself if I ever get to see anyone.








Piteous however, most of which I saw day and night as long as my eyes were open, were house elves and my own bed post.


While both of which you can’t even call them someone, but rather “something.”


The number of the people I saw was almost smaller than the number of my age, not to mention how still fewer people did I know.




For I almost knew no one.




That was right, I didn’t even know my very own father───Draco Malfoy, master of Malfoy Manor─── who couldn’t bear to lay his eyes on me, and probably only came when I was asleep.


Want to know why?





Because I could not do magic, because his own son────a Malfoy────was a squib.










I had a beautiful room.


So beautiful that if you let the sun in, it glowed ;


Thus you might be surprised to hear next that I’ve never considered it beautiful as I stared at it all day long.


I knew it was beautiful simply because other people told me so.


It was an odd thing coming to think about it； once you get too much of “beauty”, or even getting trapped by it, you lose your sense of what was beautiful and what was not.


That was exactly what I felt about my room───about my life.



＊Nothing worth a penny once there is plenty.＊












That was also why I never lifted the curtain, the curtain that covered the portrait.


I was afraid that the same thing might happen to it.


There was a colossal picture hung on the wall of my room, it was one of the very few truly glamorous possessions I owned.


Whenever the picture was revealed from behind the curtains, I couldn’t take my eyes off.


It was a portrait of a woman, an amazingly attractive woman.


Her hair streamed down like silk was wound up in an elegant bun.


The delicate lips which curved upward into a perfect smile looked something like red, ripe fruit ready to be picked and kissed.


Not the slightest flaw could be found on her skin that had not been covered up by the black satin gown, I wonder if she only bathe in milk.


She was leaning against the window sill, and her eyes sparkled so with enthusiasm and life that it seemed as if she was inviting you to look out the window with her, to praise the blessings in life together.


I wouldn’t have been so enchanted by this picture on the wall if the hand that painted it weren’t so skilled.


The picture was so vivid and bright with life that it was not just a portrait, but a real room carved into the wall, and it was a real woman that stood there smiling.


I felt I could almost hear her joyous laughter.





I’ve never imagined her speak, and certainly never related her with anything negative like illness or death.


Yet long as I know, that was just what happened to her.


This woman who smiles like an angel───this woman that bore me───


was gone long before I ever had any chance to get to know her or enjoy her motherly strokes...............











I scarcely left my room since I was born.


The manor was surrounded by the moor, but I never saw much of it.


All I saw──and thought what I saw was the endless, dead field that stretched miles and miles out on all four corners───through the thick window glass of my room.


I had also been ill through most of my ten young years.


Drifting in and out of weary dreams every day, until I wasn’t quite sure whether I had made things up out of my imagination, or that things were really happening.








That was when she came.








She came when I was having one of the frightening dreams, and was crying myself to sleep.


None of the damn house elves were patient enough to come again.


But Cest came.


She made no din as she tiptoed along the dark corridors, and she didn’t make one single sound as she slowly opened my tapestry door.


I did not sense her until she came full view into the candle light.




And then we stared.




We just stared at each other goggle-eyed.




Two complete strangers staring at each other in their pajamas.




I forgot to whine, and she forgot to shut her mouth which had fallen open as she saw me.


She was wearing a white night gown, her hair hung casually on her shoulder with no ribbons, and she was about my age.


She looked a little bit pale； Another unfortunate child ? Or perhaps just hasn’t recovered from the shock ?


I remember it well that it was me who broke the silence, ‘Are you a spirit ?’


For the first time in my life, I let out my fears in front of a stranger.


I was completely raw and naked in front of her, unprepared and had nothing to fortify myself.


I could see that Cest was stunned by the question, but color had begun to creep back on her face.


And she was clever and quick enough to reply, ‘No, of course I’m not. But are you ?’




I paused, then exploded.




We both exploded into some kind of hysterical giggle.


What weird salutations we exchanged, indeed !!


I did not act the way I always do to the others and the house elves, when I simply yell, scream or pout；and I obviously didn’t address myself as 「Colin Malfoy, the queer ten-year-old of Yorkshire, Malfoy Manor, son of Sir. Draco Lucius Malfoy.」like I planned；


She didn’t bent her knees, spread her gown, and curtsey like a well-mannered lady would’ve done.


We looked at each other, and laughed a little more, until finally I said, ‘No, I’m not a spirit, either. I am Collin, Collin Malfoy.’


‘And I’m.............I’m Cest Lennox.’ She squinted her eyes at me.





It was amazing how natural and easy children get acquainted with one another.


We simply just talked through the whole night, and by dawn, I felt that I’ve known her all my life.


I’ve never spoken so much before; it was like that I’ve been saving all my words for this night, when she came.






Cest, the girl who just popped into my life was an orphan, her parents used to work for the government of England in India where cholera broke out.




And to my own observation, Cest was a muggle.




No wonder Father did not bother to mention to me that she had come to stay, all because of the absurd “Pure-blood Theory.”


It was a mystery then that he would even adopted her；


Nevertheless, I later came to the conclusion while meditating in my room alone that this all has to do with the huge inheritance her parents left behind.


This realization, of course, I kept to myself.


No need adding extra weight to her already great misery.



。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。＊ * 。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。



It was another clear summer morning, Cest had thrown open all the windows first thing she came into my room.


‘You’ll really become a zombie if you keep hiding in your room all day like an animal in a burrow with all the windows shut.’ She said.


‘Well..........perhaps I am one already.’ I replied, though enjoying the fresh morning breeze.


She came round to her usual position, sitting down on a stool next to my bed, and gently touching the back of my hand.


We both waited, waiting for one of us to think of something to talk about this morning.


Cest began to scan my room with her eyes thoughtfully, ‘You know, you really do have a beautiful room................’


‘I know I do. But I don’t know if I should appreciate that.’


‘Why shouldn’t you?’


‘Don’t you ever get too much of something, and then began to detest it?’ I asked her.


‘I don’t know...............if I were caged in a room all my life......even if it is a beautiful one................perhaps.............’ and she looked thoughtful again.





I signed, beginning to wonder how things would have been so much different if I were born a real wizard....................


..............if I were just a plain village boy......................


..................and if she were still alive....................





‘But Colin, there had to be something that you could never get tired of, you find it and I’m sure you shall get well...............’ Cest said softly, her voice nearly fainted away in the air.


A small gust of wind came in from the moor, blowing some of the cloth off the picture─── just like magic.


We had both been staring at it without knowing.


‘Colin, is there a door behind that curtain?’


I did not speak for a moment.




Yes, it was a door, a door to me that opens to the only happiness and hope in my life.




‘Will you draw up that curtain for me, Cest ?’


She obeyed, and when the picture was fully revealed, I could hear her gasp.


‘Cest, you’re now staring at the most precious thing I’ve ever had, and the only thing that makes me know.............who I really am......................’


The air hung with magic tranquility as we stared at my smiling mother.








For a sudden, I knew that I could never draw down that curtain again.


I was wrong, and Cest had been right !!!


There are things in the world that you could never get tired of.


Life is not merely about sun down and sun rise, it’s about finding your passion and purpose !



。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。＊ * 。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。 ＊ * 。



Perhaps Cest is just a Muggle, and perhaps I am born a squib who never left his room, but far as I know, two weeks from that morning, I was standing tall and proud against the wind, among the gardens of the manor with Cest at my side；


And twenty years later now, I was already a graduated student of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ──── and a successful merchant owning quite a large business in Diagon Alley.


As for Cest ? She is now mistress of my old Malfoy Manor, and mother of my children.


I had hung the portrait of their grandmother in my children’s nursery, hoping that one day, they would get the same inspiration about life which changed their father’s fate forever─────




from this──── picture on the wall.










The end of 【Picture On The Wall】