DISCLAIMER: Don't own Harry Potter, if I did I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.

A/N: I'm proud to say that when I got someone to beta this for me they said Draco was decently in character, I think this fits more because of all the events in HBP. This was written prior to it of course. I wish I had the beta-d version of this fic but for some reason I can't get access to that email address. Anyway...
--------------------------------------------------------------

Grew up in a small town
And when the rain would fall down
I just stared out my window
Dreaming of what could be
And if I'd end up happy
I would pray (I would pray)

Draco sighed as he looked out his window. It was a cold and bleary day; the turbulent clouds overlapped each other, covering the sky. The rain was coming down in diagonal lines, splattered on his window, making the world outside blurry to him. He glanced at the small town in the distance. He closed his eyes, wondering what it was like to live outside of these walls of which he had up until recently, proudly called his home, Malfoy Manor. He opened his eyes, a determined look in his deep gray eyes. His face was young, but those eyes, they were wise beyond the person's years. He knew what he had to do, and had to do it soon.

Trying not to reach out
But when I'd try to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanted to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I pray (I would pray)
I could breakaway

He had tried to fit in with those people. His father wouldn't hear of him not joining the Deatheaters. He knew it was wrong, but it if he didn't join it would be worse. So, he feigned laughter at the men's crude jokes, in his mind he tried to block out his conscience. He quietly 'trained' keeping his father content from not doing too much harm. He learned all the curses he was to learn, all the charms needed, all the potions required. Draco ended up learning quite a lot from this experience. It in fact, provided him with the perfect plan to escape. The saying was true, 'keep your friend close, but your enemies closer.'

I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes til' I touch the sky
I'll make a wish
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway

The potion was complete. Draco had enlisted two houselves into the task. Once Draco had told them the cause and what the plan was, they happily obliged. These two were his most trusted servants and were glad to do their share. It had been one long month, but it was worth it. The first house elf looked at the bubbling concoction with fear. Holding her nose with her hand, she gulped it down, her hand trembling all the while. Slowly, she began to deform, her hands puffing up. She grew taller and paler, silver-white blonde hair falling in her now gray eyes. She pulled the black robes in front of her, onto her bare body. Draco stared at the duplicate image in front of himself. The other house elf had taken to sharpening the knife in front of him, slowly readying himself for what he was about to do. The original boy gave them both a quick pep talk, and without another word walked over to his wardrobe. Pulling out a small-enchanted black suitcase, he quietly shut the door to the closet. His wand in his pocket, broomstick slung over his shoulder, Draco quietly left his room. It was late; no one would hear him walking around.

He stopped in front of his mother's quarters. Slowly turning the knob to the door. He gazed at the woman in front of him, who was quietly sleeping, her chest rising and falling, taking breaths in and out. He tiptoed over to the large bed, and gave her a small kiss on the forehead. Turning around, he left, long unshed tears forming in his eyes. Closing the door behind him, he picked up his suitcase. Draco headed down the stairs, as quietly as possible. He opened the main doors and went out, closing a part of his life behind him.

The blonde young man looked at the looming mansion behind him. He took a deep breath, I can't regret this, Draco told himself. Taking his wand out of his robes. Pointing at his suitcase, he muttered, "Vegrandis." The luggage shrunk, and he continued the spell until the suitcase could fit into his pocket. Bending down, he gently picked up the baggage, setting it into his pocket.

Mounting his broomstick, he flew into the air. Luckily he still practiced Quidditch, his slim and tall seeker build helping him fly off into midnight sky. He ran around the house and occasionally ventured off into the gardens, building his muscles so as not to get out of shape.

Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget all the ones that I loved
I'll take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway

If all was going well, the plan was in action. Lucius would come into his room around two AM, just to check in. Sometimes he would wake Draco up, drilling him with trivia, getting him prepared for the Death Eater initiation, which was still several months away.

But tonight, when Malfoy senior would enter, he would see his son on the ground, blood engulfing his body. A large kitchen knife would be stuck in his stomach, a small house elf still hunched over him, crying his eyes out. If all was going well, the house elf would be accused and either killed or tortured severely. It was the only way the real Draco could escape without causing his mother any true trouble.

His father would think that a house elf killed him, ending any more threats of Lucius harming Narcissa, if Draco would not meet up to his father's standards. There were always big threats looming over him, if he didn't do this that would happen, if he didn't do that, this would happen. Polyjuice potion was a one-way street for a house elf. Once morphed, they couldn't morph back. It wasn't common knowledge, as Draco found it in an ancient Dark Art book that contained the information.

Thus he enlisted two houselves that had lived with his mother, they were ready to do anything for her at beck and call. The houselves were willing to give up their lives to save his mother's for him. Draco let them know that one day he would do something for them in their honor. Since he couldn't go out of the house much, the servants had carefully taken the task upon themselves to gather everything for the potion.

He knew it was wrong to fake his own death, but he had to be safe first in order to throw his father back into jail. In the middle of his fifth year, Lucius had some how escaped and became even more crazed to do what the Dark Lord told him too. Now after just graduating from his seventh year of Hogwarts, Lucius was ready to give his son to the Lord. That was what he was here for, to be a servant to He Who Must Not Be Named. Once he got to a safe place, he would reveal his plan, showing indeed that Draco Malfoy was not dead, but it was a house elf disguised as him. Then, he would sick the Aurors on his father, and he would get to go back to his mother.

Draco smiled at the thought of this. It had been over three hours that he had been flying. Seeing a nice small forest, he slowly descended into it. Landing in a clearing, he dismounted his broom, stretching his arms and legs as he got off. Walking a little bit into the woods, he calmed down. This way no one would see where he was. Taking out his miniscule suitcase, he enlarged it to its normal size. He took out a sleeping bag and crawled into it, not even bothering to take his shoes off. His tired dark, foggy eyes slowly shut, his mind being engulfed by an exhausted sleep.

Wanna feel the warm breeze
Sleep under a palm tree
Feel the rush of the ocean
Get onboard a fast train
Travel on a jet plane, far away (I will)
And breakaway


Buildings with a hundred floors
Swinging around revolving doors
Maybe I don't know where they'll take me but
Gotta keep moving on, moving on
Fly away, breakaway

Draco saw himself sitting on a tiny deserted island with nothing but the calm waves brushing up against the shore and the sun basking on his body. He was sitting under a palm tree, relaxing, his arms folded on his stomach, legs crossed and a calm, serene look on his face, topped off with a small, gentle smile. He loved the way it felt. He felt like he was free from everything and didn't have a care in the world. That was the best feeling, to have no strings attached. He didn't have to worry over his studies, being the best, his mother, beating Harry, and worst of all, joining the Dark Side.

I'll spread my wings
And I'll learn how to fly
Though it's not easy to tell you goodbye
I gotta take a risk
Take chance
Make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun

The next morning was tough for Draco. It was hard to get up from the best sleep he had ever had in a long time, even if it was just two hours. Slowly rising, he got up and stretched his arms then legs. He took out a sandwich he had a house elf make before he left, munching on it hungrily. Taking long gulps of water, he then cleaned up his surroundings. Folding the tarp magically and sending it back to the suitcase, he shrunk it again, putting it away in his pocket for safe keeping.

Remounting his broom, he flew off high into the clouds, never turning back. The day was still cloudy, but at least it wasn't raining. Draco flew for the rest of the day, not stopping for rest, food, or even to relieve himself. He grew weaker and more tired with the constant flying and going at top speed.

Finally he saw his destination, Hogwarts. It came closer and closer, and Draco flew lower and lower, narrowly missing trees on his way. When he got to the front gate, he quickly jumped off his broom and grabbed it, hurriedly going up to the large front doors. The large, black doors magically opened, allowing him to enter.

Draco sighed with satisfaction. He had finally gotten there. He ran to Dumbledore's office, this being the fourth or fifth time to the Headmaster's office. He pounded on the door, until something or someone opened it. Inside, he saw Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall, sitting down for evening tea and discussing the new school year.

Before Draco collapsed, he said breathlessly with a crooked smile, "I broke away! I made it. I'm free! Save Mother, and please put Father under arrest, he's probably at the Manor."

But I won't forget the place I come from
I gotta take a risk
Take a chance
Make a change
And breakaway, breakaway, breakaway