The Darkness That Dreams Are Made Of Chapter 1: The Mask Falls, a harry potter fanfic

The Darkness that Dreams Are Made Of

The Mask Falls

I have nothing. Nothing in the world to live for. I have spent my life in fear and pain. I have beaten and broken. Obedience is what I run on, I am a machine of my father creation. I have never been loved and I have no friends. I should die. I have nothing to live for; I have no reason to live.

These are the thoughts that ran through a one, Draco Malfoy's, head as he rode back to school on the Hogwarts Express. They seemed to run over and over again like a nonstop reel.

He had lived in a shell for the most of his life, only dimly aware of the world around him, like a puppet. The last time he had dared to emerge he had had these exact thoughts running through his head, but he was ten then. There was no school or Sythreins or...anything….

His memory of the time was dim but at the same time unforgettable.

It was a beautiful spring day, the first day of spring in fact and amid the dead grass and bare trees of the garden of the Malfoy Mansion, was a tiny flower. Draco knelt down beside it, gently caressing the delicate petals.

It is so beautiful, the small ten year old boy thought, so fragile. Like a snowflake.

A tear slid down his cheek unchecked, the first tear he had cried since he was five. Tears are not allowed in the Malfoy manor, they are punished.

This is me, inside, Draco thought, the very deep inside of me

Suddenly he stood up, reaching down and tearing the flower from its fragile hold on the world. He stared at the flower for a long time until a shadow loomed over his shoulder. A shadow that could only belong to one person. Anger welled up so strongly in him and he crushed the flower like it was no more than a wisp of smoke. Tipping his hand over, the broken flower fluttered slowly to the ground and Draco smothered it into the ground until it was nothing.

Now I am dead.

His father grabbed his shoulder roughly and spun him around; his fingers gripped Dracos face painfully, screaming at him.

"You embarrassed me in front of the entire Deatheaters meeting last night! You've been slacking on your lessons haven't you! You should be able to perform the three unforgivables by now! What were you thinking?! They were just beetles! Any child should be able to kill a bunch of worthless beetles with the Adva Cadaver! You bastard of a child are you even listening to me!?" Lucius slapped him, snapping Dracos head back and leaving a sting red handprint, "You will practice those spells until you are able to perform them in your sleep, and since you are unable to perform them on insects I will bring in something, of a more human persuasion for you to practice on. This time for every time you fail to perform the curse you will receive ten lashing, twice the regular amount. And if you refuse to perform the spells you will receive them instead!"

He nodded dumbly and followed after his father, he wanted to die but on the inside he was already dead.

Draco snapped out of his thoughts to the sounds of laughter outside compartment. It echoed hollowly against the empty walls of his empty compartment.

I have no friends, Draco thought sadly.

He smiled sarcastically remembering what he had said to them, those that were called his friends. He had sent Crabbe and Goyle off, told them to get a life of their of and quit hanging off him like the festering ooze they were, and he told Pansy to go screw herself because he would hang himself before ever letting her touch him again.

They had looked at him like he had lost he mind, and perhaps he had, but he didn't care. His father paid them to hang around him and the engagement between him and Pansy was arranged before he was born, he wanted to forget he ever existed.

Over and over again, it just keeps going over and over and it won't stop

He pulled his legs up to his chin and huddled against the window. He was almost free, once he reached Hogwarts, Lucius couldn't touch him. Even then it was a short freedom, in five months or so, he would turn eighteen and then Lucius would come for him. He would be taken home on false pretences and there, among the most powerful Deatheaters and Voldemort himself, he would become a Deatheater.

I have five months to kill myself, then. Finally I will truly be free from the bonds of life, and because I killed myself, I will suffer eternity in hell. I plan to spend that eternity laughing, because I would only be going from one hell to another.

The tiny true bit of himself was dead and after years of not caring he finally mourned his own death, from the inside.

I died when I was ten years old. God, that sounds so stupid.

His vision blurred as his eyes filled with tears, he let them fall, soaking his robes and stuffing up his nose. He didn't try to stop, hell; he had twelve years to make up, along with his own death and perhaps the loss of his sanity. Even St. Mugos home for the mentally disrupt was better then some things. Mentally disrupt what fucking hell kind of a way is that to call someone who's just fucking loony?

There was a tentative knock of the door and a muffled call of, "Is there anyone in there?"

When Draco didn't answer, the door opened to reveal Harry Potter.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know this compartment was occupied," he started before finally recognizing Draco, "Malfoy?" His expression instantly went cold, "Where're are your goons? Or do enjoy fucking yourself better?"

Draco flinched noticeably and very slowly turned and looked over at Harry from his fixed gaze on the window, tears still flowing down his cheeks.

He shook his head slowly and looked back out the window where it was beginning to rain, "Please…. Just, go away." it was barely above a whisper, and it hung in the air like smoke.