Hmm...this one scares me. I don't know how to explain it again. It is about Draco and Cho and Mrs. Norris it's not what you think it is, I promise. It's partly Cedric's dead angst but mostly Draco's I'm a worthless loser who has to have psychiatric help and has no point in existence angst.
YES! I gave Draco psychiatric problems! Muahahahahahahahahahahaha
The ending? It's up to you to decide. You hold the poor kid's fate in your hands. It's out of mine now.
There is a great deal of symbolism here, I don't know if anyone will catch it though. For instance, the thing below the window Draco keeps seeing is a very important one. But if you can figure it out, it will tell you how Draco ends up.
Dedicated to Madd Spammer for finding this song for me!
A Fortress Deep and Mighty
By PikaCheeka
song deleted for reasons
Draco
-I sighed and shifted position restlessly. The library was empty and quiet. Who want to read over Christmas vacation? Nobody. So I was alone, in peace, with my thoughts. Not that was a good thing, but better to keep them to myself than to share them. Share them and be laughed at. Share them and have the other person move away with a horrified look on their face. It was that simple, every time I told someone something, they either laughed or got freaked out and avoided me for a while. Nobody thought about Draco. Draco was a cute pale kid who had a horrible mind and a deranged temper. Someone to be left alone. That's all I was.
Not that I care. I prefer to be alone. The quiet is nice. It enables you to think and not be interrupted. It allows you to be scared yourself of your own problems.
And I had many problems. That itself is one. Obsession. I have major obsession problems. I cling to things forever, and get more and more hyped or angry about them, sometimes even more scared. Like revenge. And things that just weren't there.
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Draco
I glanced out the window to my right. The school-grounds were filled with laughing students, even though night was falling. No one cast a thought as to whether or not Draco was coming, or even to Draco himself. Not that it matters.
Oh, no, it doesn't matter.
The silence is nice.
What was that? Something...flashing by on the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest? I leaned forward slightly, squinting against the glare of the snow. A unicorn? No...but something of a horse shape...Something white and prancing, prancing like a deer. And yet...It's front legs looked odd...
I couldn't tell what it was. I would come back to it later.
I frowned slightly, remembering how I used to have to have to go to special classes. Special classes for learning how to socialize and contain my temper. Yea, well, Ron found out about them, and spilled out the fact to everyone around.
That was only a year ago. Now I don't take them anymore. Father decided I didn't need them because I had stopped throwing myself to the floor, writhing and shrieking, whenever I got upset. I used to do that out in public, but three years ago I figured out how to avoid doing it until I was about to explode. Then I would lock myself up somewhere and swear and throw things until I collapsed.
Ron still found out. It's in my records, and I bet his rotten father looks at them at the Ministry and tells his kids about the horrible Malfoy child who has psychiatric problems.
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Draco
It didn't take long before it was all over the school. Draco Malfoy, the great Draco Malfoy, had a temper problem and had difficulty getting along with people. I treated animals fine. My father raised horses, great winged ones. I loved them. I once had a pet raven. I even had a pet dragon for a time. They understood me. They never made me angry.
But kids. They knew I was different right from the start. They whispered about me behind my back. Even Harry guessed when we met for the second time on the train several years back. He told me a month ago that as soon as I had left the compartment, he had heard me shriek and he had heard a startling crash. I had thrown all my weight against a window and broke it cleanly out. It was fixed immediately, but the fact that I had done it remained.
Dumbledore never told anyone. He said he would keep it a secret. Besides, he had said, it was no one's business.
So my father found these classes for me to take.
And I gave up all hope of ever having friends.
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Draco
I learned how to block myself out from everyone else's cares and feelings. I became cruel due to the fact I was always alone. Or perhaps it was just my twisted mind. Either way, I began to hate the world. Anyone who didn't agree with me was worthless. And because I was kind of forced not to break down in public, I had to keep it all locked up inside.
Everyone already thought me different, feared me. And if I went off the deep end in the Great hall of in Diagon Alley or even a classroom, the rumors about me would be true. I knew that everyone believed Ron over my lies, but that would just confirm it. I wouldn't it. I would probably drop out of school and have Father teach me. He's a genius. He's considered taking me out of school, and it would probably be better.
Personally, I'd rather learn what I had to with someone I knew and be able to freak out than be trapped inside of myself in these stone walls. I don's know why I stay here.
But locking things up inside is no better.
I glanced down at the prancing figure. It was still there, but not a single student had noticed it yet. I had many other problems as well. One was the fact that I hallucinated.
I hallucinated constantly. Sometimes it caused me to jump up and gasp in horror or run toward something that isn't there. This bothered people. A lot.
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Draco
I had a few friends, here and there. One good one before school. But he went to Beauxbottoms and I haven't seen him in years. He was gone to me, that only true friend.
Crabbe and Goyle are sufficient losers in my opinion. It's a wonder they even made it into school. They are both bull-headed idiots, and don't even notice how wrong I am. How demented and ugly and twisted I am. They only see the scrawny yet powerful boy who is good to hide behind. They know my father is a genius murderer, and relish it. I sometimes here them start fights, and tell their opponent that my father will kill them if they get hurt in the least.
Using me my father and I to get to the Dark Side. And using me to get girls. I get asked out a lot, but I always say no. Then they ask Crabbe or Goyle out, showing their stupidity and shallowness.
They don't care about Draco Malfoy. Nobody cares about Draco Malfoy. Draco Malfoy is a cruel loser. He's an idiot who has fits and almost died a hundred times over from fever as a child. He's someone to be avoided, a useless bully the world can do without. He also sees things that aren't there and gets scared. He's paranoid.
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Draco
But I stopped caring. I realized that no one cared about me. And they all realized I realized that. They relished it. They loved being mean to me then. They knew I would fight back, but without heart, because they knew I didn't care.
Life is nothing but a sickening survival course.
I hate seeing people with their friends. People who love them and care about them and are willing to risk their life to save them. They use this as a weapon against me. I walk by, and I hear the whispers about me. They think I am too arrogant and self-obsessed to waste time with friends. If only they knew the truth. But perhaps it is better that they don't know.
The main thing is this and only this. If someone tries to be my friend, they are either getting paid or they really care about me. If they are getting paid or dared or something, I don't care. Screw them. But if they really are concerned about me, I do care. And I really don't want to hurt anyone who risks all to befriend me. So I avoid everyone. I am a rock. Rocks are alone, they are thrown around wherever. But they stay alive, so to speak. They sometimes crack.
As I do.
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Cho
"So...Cho...do you like anyone now?" Ron grinned, ducking a snowball Harry had thrown at him.
No...I thought desperately. Don't talk about this with me. He died not even a year ago. Please, I want to be left alone...
"What about Harry?"
No! I told you! I don't like anyone! I never will again! Please, don't talk about love near me ever again...But I shuddered. I hadn't told him, I was telling myself. And what could I say? How could I answer this? Without hurting someone's feelings?
"O...never mind. It was a personal question." He smirked and ran off, trying desperately to dispatch a clump of snow that was stuck to his wool mitten. I watched him go. There was still perhaps twenty minutes of light, and everyone was trying to make the best of it.
I was alone now. Everyone was running and jumping and dodging and screaming. They had left me, already forgotten about me. Just because I wouldn't join them and be happy. It was just over six months ago that he had died. And that's it. They are acting like it was six years.
I still remember him perfectly. Everything he's ever said to me. It's all I have to cling to.
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Cho
If I never loved Cedric I never would have cried, I never would have been hurt. But I did love him, and now it's gone. He's free, and I am grounded. Grounded to this ugly world where the loved ones leave you, the hated ones remain, and the kind torment you. Harry, Ron, and all the Gryffindors were nice. They really were. And yet, none of them ever knew Cedric. They never really knew him, so what did they lose when he was killed? An acquaintance.
I lost part of myself.
Suddenly reminded of him, I turned from the grounds sadly, wanting to leave and be alone. I didn't want anyone cheering me up just then.
I quietly slipped away toward the school. For I had realized that someone else was not here. Someone who was just possibly as lonely as I.
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Draco
I remember how a long time ago Father grew exasperated with me and sent me to a muggle psychologist. I had cried and punched him and kicked him until I collapsed, sobbing still for he was taking me to a muggle asylum, where I thought I would surely die. He had resisted me. I was only eight then, and it was easy for him to drag me to the office. But I was still scared. I was petrified. I remember looking up at Father's cold gray eyes and wondering what love was within.
The woman had asked me many questions. I had answered very few, and threatened to kill her a few times. Father had to go and talk to her afterward and explain that I didn't mean it. She was scared of the menace and the truth in my eyes. I wanted to kill her very much. And I wanted to kill Father very much at the time too.
Only a month ago he had come to the school and taken me aside. He wanted to talk about that meeting, and tell me what he had learned about me then. I didn't want to know. There was nothing even to know. I was an insane cruel child who wanted to be left alone and kill things.
He was worried for me. He still is. He fears I am going to kill myself someday, though I don't know why. He never acts like he loves me, he probably doesn't. Maybe he pretends.
Everyone pretends.
They are afraid to make me mad and afraid to be my friend. So they pretend, and make me madder still.
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Draco
Not that I would ever tell anyone, but I love the library, I love how it is so quiet, and how I can take a book and indulge myself within. I am able to forget everything around me, and even forget myself. I am well protected, for a story can never hurt me. It can't hurt me the way a human can. I escape here often. Nobody notices this chair here, for it is in the far corner and beside a dirty window that is always open. It is stuck, so it is freezing in the winter.
It is winter.
I don't care though. I'm trying to take advantage of it here. I hate being in here when Hermione is. It makes me nervous. Not that she ever finds me, but still...
It's a little school joke. I'm a school joke, that is. And the fact that I love to read in hopes I will get lost is yet another aspect of it. Another thing to laugh at, to chide at, to burn up with peals of cruelty. My temper is slightly better now. I am finally learning how to communicate with the world. Or I am not, it depends. I have found security and loneliness, and no one can destroy it. I wish I could truly get lost in a book, never come out. One where the main character has a good life, one untouched my hatred and torment. I could take their place
If only that were really true.
I saw the thing again, clearer now. Its front legs were too thin, too spindly. I wanted it to turn toward me so I could see it. I wanted to see the face.
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Cho
I was in the library before I knew it. I had followed ugly old Mrs. Norris. I hate her, I actually wanted to kick her. For she scratched me yesterday. But she trots too fast. I jogged to keep up with her, and now she has stopped at the library.
I still followed her, now more bored than anything. She was, at least, a good diversion from my thoughts. She bolted off toward the corner and the open window. I wondered if she was going to jump out and walk around the roof.
She didn't. She leapt into the chair beside the window. I sighed and stepped in front of it.
No one other than Draco.
He was just sitting there, stock still, his breathing shallow and his cold eyes narrowed. Mrs. Norris sat in his lap as if he were the kindest soul in the world. I couldn't tell who I pitied more. The cat, who Draco would probably kill. Or Draco, who would probably get his face ripped open. He looked so weak and forlorn I had to pity him.
I had never paid attention to him much. Everyone said he was evil. They all said that if you made him mad he would find you in some dark alley one day and kill you. I had to believe it. His eyes show nothing but hatred and rage and pure evil, intelligence, even. They always have black shadows beneath them as if he doesn't sleep. He probably doesn't.
But he was the one who I was looking for.
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Cho
He suddenly realized for the first time I was there, and slid his thin hands over his eyes.
Unable to help myself, I asked him what was on my mind. "Are you crying?"
"What if I am? You going to go tell all your stupid friends? Tell them that evil Draco is a crybaby who's got no friends?" he hissed.
I didn't know how to answer that, so I didn't. "No friends?"
"O...I see. You haven't heard. Yes, I'm too much of an arrogant bastard to have friends. I'm too cool and rich to have friends. I'm also too insane and temperamental to know how to make friends" He muttered darkly, uncovering his eyes again.
He wasn't exactly crying, but there were tears in his eyes. I was lost, so I just stood there, my mouth hanging open.
"Where the bloody hell have you been? Ron told everyone last year, you must have heard."
"About what?"
"About me! Everything about me! I was sick until I was five! Then I started to go insane! I had fits everywhere and had to go to a psychiatrist! I had to take special classes so I wouldn't kill anyone! I'm an insane freak and I can never have a friend. Everyone hates and fears me and lies about me to make themselves feel better. They all know I am lonely, but they lie about me so they don't feel bad about hurting me." he shuddered violently for a minute, as if he hadn't wanted to tell me.
But I knew he had. He had to tell someone before he cracked.
"Now see this window?"
I nodded.
"See how far down it is?"
I nodded again. It was at least sixty feet.
"Now tell me. If I were to jump, would you tell anyone?"
I gaped.
"No? I see. Well, who do you think would notice?" he stood up, knocking Mrs. Norris to the floor. She purred softly and rubbed up against his legs. He tensed visibly and pushed her away with his booted toe.
I came to my senses then. "No!" I cried and lunged at him. I caught his arm and twisted it, forcing him to back up from the window. He didn't make a sound but just glared at me.
He finally pulled away. "Are you saying you really care? Or is it that you don't want to get in trouble?"
I froze. I hadn't expected that. "I...I care..."
"Note the hesitation." He smirked.
I wanted to scream. I had meant it too. I didn't want him to die. He was alone, like me. "I', serious." I said quickly.
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Draco
"Liar." I hissed. "Get out of my sight." I picked up the cat again and leaned against the window sill.
She trembled violently. "Don't jump."
"Why do you care?" I sneered. I hated her. She was the worst of them all. Pretending she cared. I bet anyone else would have just shoved me over the edge. I hadn't honestly considered jumping, I had only wanted to see what she would do. Just to prove a point that I hated her, I sat on the ledge and swung one leg over.
She shuddered
"Go. Now. I'll kill you."
A tear slipped down her face. I continued glaring at her. She sobbed once before running from the room. Probably off to tell someone.
I scowled. What did she care? I didn't need friends.
I had my own fortress, deep and mighty.
I had one.
She crushed it. She did care. I realized that only a moment later. And I had thrown it back in her face. It was my fault. Everything that people did to me was my fault. I was a jerk.
I leaned down over the sill farther. How much pain would a jump be?
More than the emotional pain I would suffer for the rest of my life?
Or less?...
Which side?
Which side would hurt the least?
The Thing suddenly began to move faster, harder, uglier. It wove a pattern in the snow.
The Thing suddenly turned toward me. The Thing below the window.
It looked me in the eye. I thought it smiled, but I couldn't tell.
It was a deer. But it had no face.
It had a skull.