
“Just Wait till My Father Hears About This”
Draco Malfoy is my favorite Harry Potter character. I know. Some of you are looking at me, intent on avoiding the cunning Slytherin ambition I’m going to use against you. (FYI, I’m a Hufflepuff). Some of you are reading this, horrified that I could adore such a one-dimensional character whose redemption was lacking in detail. The rest of you are inwardly cheering, excited someone else is finally voicing the opinion you’ve held all along: reformed blonde British bad boys wearing black are the best. Before I go off on a tangent and explain how Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer is my favorite character of all time, let’s get down to the real reason I love Draco Malfoy.
Draco Malfoy has potential.
When I read the books I enjoyed the character, but he wasn’t as fully developed as he could have been, and his arc, well, it felt flat. It drove me to find my characterization of Draco elsewhere and, boy, does the Harry Potter fandom deliver. The amount of development this character received from a world-wide collective is breathtaking and transfiguring. It is the reason I fell in love with him.
And it’s because I learned to love him, that I discovered what we can learn from him. What we know about Draco is revealing. He grew up with a seemingly unshakeable belief that because he was who he was, anything was possible. His identity was grounded securely in the knowledge that he was someone, the best kind of someone, and there was no problem that his family name could not fix. He had resources, he had power, he had connections; he had the best of everything and he was not afraid to use it.
The most frequent phrase you would hear from Draco was something to the effect of: “you just wait till my father hears about this.”1 He swaggered and bullied and was intelligent, but when he got in a jam, his immediate instinct was to go to his father. Over the years, his faith was shaken, his morals compromised, his loyalty tested, and he eventually reformed. But faith in the Malfoy name and in his father’s abilities was the hallmark of his character from the beginning and that’s what I want to concentrate on.
I’m not suggesting we be Draco. He was a bully, he was prejudiced, he was conceited, and he used his rock-solid faith in his identity like a weapon. In short, he was selfish. But what if we took that faith and pointed it at ourselves and how it applied to our lives?
When I look at myself, do I see someone who believes that because of who I am and Whose I am, I can do anything and no problem is unsolvable? Do I realize that I have the resources, power, and connections of a child of God? Do I believe that the best of everything has been given to me by a Father who has given me the authority to use it? Do I know that any time I am in trouble, I can run to Him?
Well, that’s different, isn’t it? All Christians are Draco Malfoy and have the potential to be powerful, to be strong, to be confident, to have faith, but I don’t think we realize it. We’re too busy letting fear and arrogance get in our way. We fear we can’t do it; we can’t win the battle. Or we are arrogant, believing that we can figure it out ourselves; it’s all up to us. We take the worst attributes of Draco on ourselves and none of the best. We are cowards and bullies and selfish.
Draco faced an enemy and so do we. Frankly, ours is worse. But we do have an advantage Draco didn’t; we know the enemy is already defeated. So why are we acting like he isn’t? Why do we run to the extremes of self-protection and hurting others? Why do we act defeated? When we hear of something evil or sad or confusing, we cower down in the dark or bellow our pain to the rest of the world, demanding they take our justice into their hands.
What I suggest we do instead is spend time figuring out exactly who we are. We could do this in multiple ways: prayer, Bible reading, journaling, time in nature, serving others, creative hobbies, fellowship with other people, and/or worship. I don’t think there’s one perfect way for all, but God has provided a myriad of ways. What we’re questing for is truth. That’s it. We need the truth. We can’t desire a version of the truth or our own personal truth. It has to be absolute truth. It’s uncomfortable and we don’t always like it and it can ruin our happy, pretty, sheltered lives. The truth still sets us free.
When we’re free, we can see beyond the lies of our enemy, we can see beyond the pain of our emotional loss, we can see beyond the fear of what may happen, we can see beyond the anger of corruption and brokenness, and we can see beyond the despair and apathy that says there is nothing we can do about it.
Here’s truth I know: Jesus loves you; Jesus died for you; Jesus can set you free. Start there. Because God is where identity-building and truth-telling begins. In the beginning was God. Not us, not anything else. It has to start with Him and only He can enable us to keep taking steps forward. None of us can figure out the truth on our own. We are only able to know anything, to do anything, to be anything, because of His Spirit. So look for the Spirit and let Him blow away the lies that have been keeping you in darkness your whole life.
Then we can be sure we are royalty, just like Draco. We are privileged. We are powerful. We have all we need. We are birthed into a new creation, raised as a cherished child, given authority over the earth and the spiritual forces around us, taught everything we need to know, and emboldened to walk freely and confidently, without worrying what other people think.
Of course, we can do better than Draco. We can take our resources, our power, our connections, and use them to love the world. We don’t have to be bullies or selfish. We can be generous because our Father’s wealth will never run out. We can be loving because we don’t have to earn love in return. We can be kind because our Father is kind to us. We can be understanding because our Father taught us all are worthy. We can work for others and not ourselves because our Father is always promoting the best for us. We can be helpful and merciful and extend our hands, lifting others up.
And best of all, whenever we inevitably feel like we can’t handle something, like the enemy is winning, like we’re not smart enough, good enough, rich enough, powerful enough, or anything enough, we can follow Draco’s example here too. We can point our finger at evil and say: “just you wait till my Father hears about this.”
Then tell Him. Send an owl. And wait for Him to come and rescue you. He always will.
1Rowling, J. K. 1999. Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. New York, NY: Scholastic.