The Day Draco Malfoy Cracked.
-LostLoveIsDead-
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I would NOT be sitting here writing fan fiction. You can sue me, but all you are going to get is an old computer and a very used pair of skis.
A/N: This was just a spur of the moment fic. The idea popped into my head randomly and the story sort of wrote itself. So, I hope you enjoy none the less. Please review! They make my day. :)
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I looked at my reflection staring back at me in the mirror. The only noise that could be heard was the rain that beat down on the window sill. For once, Myrtle was nowhere to be found.
I turned the water on and splashed some in my face, my bloodshot, grey eyes looked up to meet their reflection. What a monster I had become.
My hair that had once been glued down onto my head was now a disheveled mess, my eyes had bags under them that reflected the fact that I hadn't slept in about a week, if it was even possible- I think I was getting thinner.
I thought back to every word that ever came out of my mouth. Never was there one genuine word that I had said. Never once did I reflect how I felt- to anyone. I had been a zombie. Just another mindless minion of the dark lord himself. When the devil whispered in my ear I would mindlessly obey and hope that by taking the joy and laughter from others that maybe- mine wouldn't leave. That is what I didn't know at the time, I had no joy. Only masochistic laughter that could rip through anyones mask of strength. Little by little I began to realize what I was doing. I was arguing with myself because I had gotten to such a point where I couldn't turn back. I was gambling with the devil himself, my father, and there was absolutely no way to get out alive. Either my physical presence was dead, or my soul was.
Although my soul had been gone for quite some time. As they say the eyes are the passage to the soul, but I can assure you, the only thing you ever saw in my eyes was cruelty. For such a bitter thing, I had no thought.
There was no personal reason for the pain I caused, I was a pawn in his hands. I could sit here and blame all my problems on my father, or the dark lord himself even; but I knew the real reason why I am in this agony as I stand. Myself. I could have gotten out back then. I knew right from wrong but not how to choose it. One day, I would tell myself, One day I could get out of here unscratched. If I just played my cards right I could slip right threw unnoticed, unseen, and still be the best. How I was oh so wrong. Little did I know at the time, that every word I spat to her would come back to get me. I was simply done now. The scars were so deep that there was no way to avoid them. It haunted my every thought, my dreams, my nightmares, my everything. Every moment of my life from this point forward would be spent being a brooding, sodding, mess.
Now I stand here, looking at my bare-naked emotional stature and realize: what a monster I had become. I thought If I kept splashing water on my face that maybe, just maybe, I could wash myself from the sins and problems that I had inflicted. I knew exactly what was happening to me at this very moment, and I knew, It couldn't be put off any longer then it had already been.
Draco Malfoy had cracked.
I felt like every word I had ever spoken rang through my head at once. The voices got louder and louder until I couldn't take it anymore. All the words kept forming to the same until I felt like drowning myself. I looked up before looking back into the now overflowing sink.
mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, mudblood, mudblood
Filthy. Little. mudblood
The words rain threw my veins like poison as my tears began to fall in unison with the rain. I felt a lump in my throat form as I looked back to myself. What a mess. My life had fallen apart and there was no turning back. I had to keep moving forward. I can't even remember the amount of times that I thought of death; It would be so easy. I could forget my problems, my scars, my everything in the solace of silence. I could loose myself in the darkness and just forget the world.... but I know I wouldn't. Death was the weak way out. Well, thats what father always told me. Although, he always failed to realize that...
I was weak.
I was weak. I was insecure. Everything I did was an act. My confidence, my opinions, my everything. It was all a horrible act. So I sit here today, in the flooded, dank, bathroom and look at the disgruntled mess in the mirror.
I couldn't help but let a smile slip in spite of everything when, I began to laugh. I looked at myself and laughed. My genuine laughter got louder and louder as I dropped my my knees and sat; letting the sound echo around myself. I didn't know why I was laughing but, it felt good. Anyone to see me at that moment would have immediately admitted me to St. Mungo's. I looked one hundred and ten percent criminally insane. My hair was everywhere, I looked starved, and I sat, tears running down my face- laughing. For it was just me, myself, and I. No one was around. Just myself and my thoughts.
Once I calmed myself down I leaned back against the wall, ignoring the water that was pouring out over the sink onto me. I knew there was one thing I had to do because there was one thing I had left. One last chance to make all the wrongs right.
I had one last shot to prove that all I had done was wrong. I had to prove that things could get better, they would have to. I had to go to her and somehow figure out a way to win her over. Never in my lifetime would I thought to be in this position. I knew I had no where else to go and this was it. That even if there was another direction my heart would still be on this path. The soulless drone that is me, had unwillingly given his heart to the mudblood he taunted for so long.
Her bushy hair that could barely even be tamed with magic, her less then perfect curves, the way she threw her hand up every time a professor asked a question, how she looked when she studied; I had memorized all of it. I could see every aspect of her in my head. Every imperfection turned into the epitome of perfection in my mind. I don't exactly know how or why it happened but I didn't care anymore. I was in bloody love with Hermione Granger.
I pulled myself up off the cold, stone, floor and ran a hand through my soaked hair. This was it, I thought to myself as I straightened out my shirt, turned off the water, and approached the door. I would go and find her, and win her over. I don't know how I would, if she would slap me, if she would confess her undying hatred for me, anything that could possibly go wrong ran through my mind and out the window. I didn't care how long this took, days, months, weeks, years. I simply didn't care anymore, because I finally came to the conclusion that this is what I wanted. This is what I needed. It took six bloody years and I would waste no more time. This was it, Draco Malfoy had cracked, and he was about to go make a fool of himself in front of the whole great hall.
He didn't care anymore.
FIN.
A/N: I hope you all enjoyed! It was, as I said before, a spur of the moment thing (so if it is unorganized I am sorry!). It was a bit random, didn't make too much sense, and most of all a pointless drabble... but I liked it.
Also, an apology for my rubbish grammar- I'm still looking for a beta! (Anyone who is interested PLEASE contact me).
As for anyone who was wondering if I am EVER going to write a sequel to "Just Little Games", I am not so sure. I have a lot of plot bunnies running around in my head that need to get out first. :)