Disclaimer: This is my first story *to fanfiction.net* so I hope
everyone enjoys it! I do not own any Harry Potter characters (Malfoy, or
the school, or story, or whatever.) It is all respectfully the owner of
J.K. Rowling *yes we all love you J.K.* and the 2 goth girls (Lindsay, and
Brittany) are characters of mine of course. So ya, enjoy!
A stranger to the night appeared in a beat of the heart. He had been walking around the park the whole night with heavy depression within his soul. Sorrow filling his gleaming eyes, which no one could see. He was a man of sickness and lost, and was desperately trying to find a hole to crawl out of. He found a near by mildewy, bench. It was drentched to the bone, since it had been pouring buckets of flesh water, the whole day and night.almost on purpose. But this had not affected the man's actions, he had gracefully sat down on this bench, and stared out into the open not noticing it was raining, or that it was night time. He bowed his head down to his chest and rain droplets started forming under his chin. The moon's elegant shine showed the hollow of the man's face. It was white like the stars' surfaces, and drained like the gravels rain pools. His hair was slick yet shabby, greased all the way back, but having little strains being pulled out by the amounts of stress. His golden locks gleamed with depression, and were as dull to the night. He was wearing, what would look like a long dark cloak, torn at the bottoms from being dragged down the roads on endless nights. Dark pants were only dimly seen, but not to distinguishable, since it blended with the rotted bench. He scuffed his bland shoes, and towed his head upward, towards the swaying tree tops above his head.
"Why does it take a whisper of life to realize you love that person?"
He cried in despair, almost trying to find an answer from god, but cocked his head sideways, watching more trees blow, as if he was declined an answer. He formed his hands into fists, a pounded them against the bench. The birds flew from the near by tree tops and fluttered away, frightened. "Damn those birds.they're scared.scared like everyone else. had been." He said aloud with such distress, all he could do was lean himself back down against the rickety bench. He took his right fist, and approvingly opened it to slick back his hair, and wipe down his face, with his big luscious hand. The hand he had once touched her soft tender skin, he thought to himself as he dreamily closed his eyes and throttled back his neck, so it was dangling amongst his shoulders. If only he could remember the day he had first layed his eyes on her. so many years ago. But it pained him to remember her smile, her glance, her delicate walk, and her hard punches. With that he let out a small chuckle which made him ease up the tension. He let out a heavy sigh, and recollected his heavily buried memories, highly hidden from any pondering thoughts. Then it struck him, the memory hitting him like a very big brick hitting him in the face. He remembered.
"It was the day of September 8th , school had started fairly late because of some difficulty finding yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." He went on. "It was 9:30 at night, when the normal gang of us were all stubbornly making fun of a group of Hufflepuffs, which had just entered The Great Hall. They were all shivering, and holding arms, walking off to the right of the Hall. "Look at those gay Huffers!" "Aww, Mommy needs to hug you to keep you from freezing your little ass off?" The group of Slytherins yelled across to the other end of the Hall, to make sure that the Hufflepuffs were keenly listening. The gang of them started laughing hysterically, and continued making fun of the other usuals, until a fairly old woman walked in very sternly and coolly. She was followed by a group of youngsters, who were trailing on the back of her heels. At the end of the line thou, there seemed to be a fairly older looking girl, walking slowly behind the crowd of kids that seemed oddly very short compared to her. A pretty tall, blonde hair boy had noticed her first out've the gang of Slytherins, making fun of everyone from earlier. He stood a little higher on the part of the long bench row he was sitting on, to get a better eye on the girl. She was a "moderately attractive girl" he thought to himself eyeing her, but trying not to blush at the same time. His eyes gazed narrowly, from the top of her head to her toes. She was light skinned, but not as white as his own. She had brown hair with a reflection of highly tinted red, and highlights. In the front there where strands on either side (by what he could see), that was shorter then the rest of the hair, and a more vibrant red. Her hair was short, and cut in from long in the front to short in the back, but he couldn't tell how long the part was in the front (not her short ends in the front), since she had it neatly tucked behind her ears. She had flaming red eyeglasses to go along with her tightly braided chocker, and freckles along her nose and cheeks. She wore what looked like a butchered Hogwarts uniform. Almost to the extent that it didn't even look like a Hogwarts uniform, but a school girl's tantrum, if it hadn't been for the Hogwarts badge newly stitched to the hem of her skirt. The girl also had a very peculiar accessory, which was a strand of thing string, each starting from behind her ears, and leading down to around her chest area. On the end of the two strings we're feathers tied on. She wasn't wearing a black cloak, but a fitted gray vest. The girl had short sleeves instead of long, but almost looked like she was wearing long sleeves, because of the extent of bracelets covering both arms. The blouse was longer then the vest and covered most of the skirt.
The boy checked her over again, and noticed the height of the skirt again, "But wasn't every girl's skirt heightened that high now a days?" He thought to himself, as he could feel his face getting uncomfortably warm. He continued to unnoticeably, stare at the girl. He continued down from her skirt, and saw some very loose big knee socks crumpled to above the knee, and at the bottom he noticed what looked like black heavy boots, sparred open by the jaws of hell. The boy gave a quick glance at the overall image of the girl, and realized he was either staring at a complete rebel, in the wrong place, or a very hot punk/goth.....and that his mouth was slowly but surely dropping open. A quick clack from the Hall doors, and a few people jumped out of the seats, since the doors made such a vibration through the floor. He, like many others turned to the entrance and found another older girl, quickly walking to the other girl he was eyeing at before. He noticed that this new, and older girl was much of the same, but different. She was much taller then the other girl, and was dark skinned. Her long damp hair (from the rain outside), was dangling from her back. She like the other, was wearing butchered school clothes. But she was wearing her long black cloak, but instead of the normal cloth for the material of the cloak, it was rather leathery, and dull. She had a tad longer skirt, with long black fishnet stockings on, with big clunky knee boots with buckles by the thousands on them. The boy leaned back a bit to get an overall look at these two outcasts that have just walked onto the premises of the norm. "Hey Malfoy, did you check out the gits?" asked a grinning girl, leaning towards him, pointing to the two girls in the back of the line. Malfoy quickly got out of his state of dreamland, and went back into reality. "ya.Ya, Pansy, they ARE two weirdos! I wonder where they came from? Transylvania!" the two of them let out a few laughs, before another boy from across the table of the two interrupted. "I hear they are from America!" The three exchanged pondering glances. Malfoy leaned back with his arms rested against his head, and his elbows in the air. He gave a small sigh, and cocked his eyebrow, to a small smirk. "Too many bloody bastards are going to this school, I might as well get my father to come here and well..." he turned his head more towards Pansy, and opened his eyes to an even wider smirk, "get my way".
~ "God I was such an arrogant, little git" said the man giving of a few chuckles. He was still sitting on the mossy bench, but shifted his legs and arms a tad bit, to make himself more comfortable for the wave or emotional downpours he knew he was going to be experiencing this long night. "I remember that the ceremonial night, that night went by fast..but awkwardly slow. ~
During the celebration, the two stray girls we're left to sit at the teachers table, since their body language told everyone they were too old to participate into the ceremony. Malfoy clapped when he needed to, from the cue from everyone else, but still eyed the girls every so often. It was close to the end of the ceremony when an emotional wave had attacked the fairly non innocent blonde boy. Malfoy screwed up his face, and hunched his head forward towards the shiny wooden table. He could feel his eyes begin to bulge with such strain it gave him a taunting migraine. "Not again." he told himself holding his hands within the other, under the table, to hide from the rest of the world incase someone was watching with a sideways glance. Malfoy could feel sweat swimming down his arms and hands onto the cold floor. He heard the earth pounding droplets crunch to the earth they only knew of, the muddy lace floor. His breathing became heavy, and he knew he had to get out of there. "I have to leave...i have to leave." he kept thinking to himself, as it was clearly to his eyes getting darker around him, it seemed like a dark day in hell for him. It was a sign for warning and emergency. He gave a sideways glance at the doors, but new it was over risky, because Filch was garding the door, to make sure no wise cracked student would leave, exactly what Malfoy wanted to do.
Before his brain cells could strand another glass of air into his small oxygen flow, there was a louder applause, which signaled.. "The ceremony is done..must leave". He heard yet more muffled screams and applause. He recognized this second wave of exuberant excitement as the appearance of Dinner. This was the perfect time for him to escape. No one would notice, a random person getting up and leaving, he could just saying he needed to go use the Lou. Malfoy made a dodge to the doors, and put on the most "normal" face and presence he could conjure at his dire moment of salvation. He walked steadily fast, down his long row of fellow Slytherins. "Finally." he signed to himself as he had reached the enormous, hand crafted doors which leaded to the exit. He merely not as much as open it when he slipped out through a small crack he managed to do, without anyone drawing attention to a blonde haired 4th year Slytherin exit the Dining Hall.
He roughly ran, dragging his feet behind him, up the stairs, and down the long halls, to his once familiar Slytherin Common Room, and dorm. He finally reached a pair of old Dungeon doors, that looked as if they we're ripped from the hose of a tormented castle, within the Medieval times. He looked down to see that both of his hands we're still just barely grasping onto the other. Malfoy conjured enough strength to left up one of his arms, and with effort, opened the Dungeon Doors. He staggered passed the newly furnished and decorated Green Common Room, which wasn't draped with "Welcome" signs like the other Commons. He headed up a wretchedly hard pair of stone stairs and tripped into a new hall, just as green as the other. Malfoy dragged his completely wasted body into an extremely large bathroom area, at the end of the excruciatingly long hallway.
Malfoy took his one strengthen cold hand, and reached for the smooth tabletop of one of the pear white sinks. He thrusted his arm at one of the Serpent shaped knobs, to turn on the dirty water of the castle, waste.
~ "I remember after turning on the water, dreadfully slow moving my head towards the mirror. I couldn't let help but let out a scream." The man paused, and let his jaw drop towards the direction of the warmth moon, trying to soak up every inch of artificial happiness he could get. He closed his eyes, and concentrated, on the exact picture he remembered. He eased up his tension, and let another one of his hands go down his painfully hurt face, and dim blonde slick hair, he had always recollected having.~
Within the mirror, he saw a poor, broken boy. Frighten from every sense of reality, and scared to the depths of his turned eyes. The boy within the mirror was bleeding...terribly. He was bleeding from the scrape of his raw nose, to the sides of his cheeks. There were stains all over his face, and his eyes we're beating with pain. It seemed the pain from his eyes we're thickening into his skull. He squinted and tried to make out we're this poor boy trapped in the mirror was bleeding from. He glanced around his body for an answer. He looked down within the sink, and saw his hands and wrists completely drenched in a red substance, which was pouring from the sink fountain. He roughly closed his eyes and tried to decipher what all of this meant. "What is happening to me?" the struggling Malfoy tried to ask himself, but couldn't. He knew perfectly too well what was happening, and wished for all of it to stop. For there to be a break in the stratosphere, and have his dimension crumble to the ashes. To have the whole existence of his dimension, disappear without a word, and for him to be gone. He took a closer look, and saw that it was his bleeding on his wrists that was making the liquid water turn a gruesome red, and the marks on his face we're nothing but whips from his wrists/hands, from earlier when he was running through the hall and tripped, and the spread of his nose bleed.
Malfoy desperately pulled himself from the leaking sink, and wobbled like an old Raggedy-Ann. He was trembling from head to foot. He knew only too well that he was going to die soon from the loss of too much blood, or at least pass out...badly. "I......my wound must have opened during the ceremony...I must've started bleeding then..was.I seen....I cant see..am I going blind.." Malfoy crumbled to the bottom of an endless pit, but was just the wet floor. He let out an even more painful scream, desperately calling for help. "Dammit..." he screamed again, and let his anger get the best of him. He jabbed his wrecked lonely wrist into the floor below him, and tired, and wasted, sat there breathing deeper then the humidity of the sun's roast in late August.
Footsteps..he could hear footsteps in the distance.they we're coming closer, and closer. All he wanted to do was swear at the damn fuck to get their ass in there and help his ass. He desperately tried to turn his body too see a better view of the git who heard his screams for struggling help, but retired the idea when he learned that his body lost inhumanly too much blood for him to operate properly.
It became dark...ever so dark. It was increasing at a very fast pace, and with the strain of a blink, hurt every part of his insides. He cocked his head backwards, and let every ounce of pain seep out into the blurriness covering his vision of the world. The only thing Malfoy wanted right now was to die, and give up. It wasn't worth the experience; looking back and seeing himself bleed to death upon the Slytherin Boy's bathroom, on the first day of his 4th year at Hogwarts. He wanted to die, and never look back. "How can my life get any more how it is like now?" he thought to himself, as he started drifting off..dangerously to far for someone to save him. It seemed like all hope was gone when his land of torture was interrupted.
Malfoy could see a figure standing above him, looking straight into his eyes. He couldn't make this strange thing above him, but he could see that it was a person, and that it had rather short brown hair. He squashed up his face, to see if his vision would magically come back to him, like everything else had done for him in his life, but before he could sense reality his vision gave way, and Malfoy had finally loss grasp of the world.
~ "I thought I was dying, when I was laying on that cold floor. I thought Hell or Heaven was here to receive my carcus, and bring me to the life beyond, this bloody fuck of a place. I could even make out the light at the end of the damn hallway...."~
"Damn, fuck. Are you fucken OK?" Malfoy heard a voice calling to him from beside his laying body, as he slowly led himself up to a sitting position with his legs spread down, far. He layed one of his hands on his raggedy knees, and took his other hand and reached out to hold his head from completely rolling off his shoulders. He finally reached his forehead, and moaned as the feel of cold sweat pools all over his hand, suddenly stream down his face. He felt a wave of an extreme pain, like he seemed he had experienced just a little bit ago, to himself. To him, it seemed like a "hangover" or whatever they call those things that you experience the morning after when your completely wasted and drunk. But he had been one of the two, and felt that feeling. He gave yet another moan of distress, and leaned over and vomited to his side, where he saw a perfect opening for.
"Aww crap, I help you, and THAT'S the thanks I receive? I was expecting maybe more of a "thank you so very much!" or "you are my god!"" said that same voice he heard just a second ago, and focused more on the owner of that familiar voice. "it was her..." he thought to himself, as he whipped the vomit from the edges of his mouth, and leaned back to an upright position, eyeing the person a little more closely.
She had short brown hair, let down that was hung over her face. It was, as he saw before, long in the front and short in the back. Her school blouse was hung open, and tied in the back with a tight black hair tie. She was wearing a black tank top, which lengthen down to the mid length of her skirt. Her shoes we're set aside on the wall, and her knee socks we're tightened even more, above the knee, so it didn't drag and roll around herself, while she was cleaning up his newly melted vomit, on the floor before her knees. She had a fairly stressed expression upon her face, and was viciously scrubbing away at the half dried vomit now on the floor, with a very wet sponge she must have scrabbled from one of the baths, or sinks. It was the girl Malfoy was eyeing at before from the earlier ceremony, which seemed almost days ago. "Was I really faint for that long?" he thought to himself, remembering the ceremony where the girl was.
"So what is a girl like you doing in a men's bathroom?" Malfoy asked, still eyeing the girl, while rubbing his hand over his pants, with vomit from his face. "Well if it's any of YOUR business, I merely got lost, and thought this was the girl's bathroom, since I had just been assigned to this house, while everyone was eating. Not the most masculine place around here is it? Or are all of you Slytherin boys just as angsty, and pansy as the other?" The girl said, while still paying her most attention to the floor she was cleaning. She started to get up and shot a look at him, and continuing stretching her body out to the fullest, and started heading for one of the closest sinks. "Hey, I wouldn't be being a bloody bastard if I were you, you're going to be receiving hell from all of us as the "new kid"" Malfoy said as he started getting up, but failed at the attempt, and had to hold himself from completely collapsing again. "You shouldn't be trying to put up to your weakling strength, and try and get up. You loosed way too much blood just a bit ago, and your scars aren't completely healed" She said as she took one of his arms and put it around her neck, so she could handle half of his wait, and keep him balanced. She pointed at the long cuts down Malfoy's wrists, to show him that they were still beat red, and like as she said weren't completely healed.
A stranger to the night appeared in a beat of the heart. He had been walking around the park the whole night with heavy depression within his soul. Sorrow filling his gleaming eyes, which no one could see. He was a man of sickness and lost, and was desperately trying to find a hole to crawl out of. He found a near by mildewy, bench. It was drentched to the bone, since it had been pouring buckets of flesh water, the whole day and night.almost on purpose. But this had not affected the man's actions, he had gracefully sat down on this bench, and stared out into the open not noticing it was raining, or that it was night time. He bowed his head down to his chest and rain droplets started forming under his chin. The moon's elegant shine showed the hollow of the man's face. It was white like the stars' surfaces, and drained like the gravels rain pools. His hair was slick yet shabby, greased all the way back, but having little strains being pulled out by the amounts of stress. His golden locks gleamed with depression, and were as dull to the night. He was wearing, what would look like a long dark cloak, torn at the bottoms from being dragged down the roads on endless nights. Dark pants were only dimly seen, but not to distinguishable, since it blended with the rotted bench. He scuffed his bland shoes, and towed his head upward, towards the swaying tree tops above his head.
"Why does it take a whisper of life to realize you love that person?"
He cried in despair, almost trying to find an answer from god, but cocked his head sideways, watching more trees blow, as if he was declined an answer. He formed his hands into fists, a pounded them against the bench. The birds flew from the near by tree tops and fluttered away, frightened. "Damn those birds.they're scared.scared like everyone else. had been." He said aloud with such distress, all he could do was lean himself back down against the rickety bench. He took his right fist, and approvingly opened it to slick back his hair, and wipe down his face, with his big luscious hand. The hand he had once touched her soft tender skin, he thought to himself as he dreamily closed his eyes and throttled back his neck, so it was dangling amongst his shoulders. If only he could remember the day he had first layed his eyes on her. so many years ago. But it pained him to remember her smile, her glance, her delicate walk, and her hard punches. With that he let out a small chuckle which made him ease up the tension. He let out a heavy sigh, and recollected his heavily buried memories, highly hidden from any pondering thoughts. Then it struck him, the memory hitting him like a very big brick hitting him in the face. He remembered.
"It was the day of September 8th , school had started fairly late because of some difficulty finding yet another Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." He went on. "It was 9:30 at night, when the normal gang of us were all stubbornly making fun of a group of Hufflepuffs, which had just entered The Great Hall. They were all shivering, and holding arms, walking off to the right of the Hall. "Look at those gay Huffers!" "Aww, Mommy needs to hug you to keep you from freezing your little ass off?" The group of Slytherins yelled across to the other end of the Hall, to make sure that the Hufflepuffs were keenly listening. The gang of them started laughing hysterically, and continued making fun of the other usuals, until a fairly old woman walked in very sternly and coolly. She was followed by a group of youngsters, who were trailing on the back of her heels. At the end of the line thou, there seemed to be a fairly older looking girl, walking slowly behind the crowd of kids that seemed oddly very short compared to her. A pretty tall, blonde hair boy had noticed her first out've the gang of Slytherins, making fun of everyone from earlier. He stood a little higher on the part of the long bench row he was sitting on, to get a better eye on the girl. She was a "moderately attractive girl" he thought to himself eyeing her, but trying not to blush at the same time. His eyes gazed narrowly, from the top of her head to her toes. She was light skinned, but not as white as his own. She had brown hair with a reflection of highly tinted red, and highlights. In the front there where strands on either side (by what he could see), that was shorter then the rest of the hair, and a more vibrant red. Her hair was short, and cut in from long in the front to short in the back, but he couldn't tell how long the part was in the front (not her short ends in the front), since she had it neatly tucked behind her ears. She had flaming red eyeglasses to go along with her tightly braided chocker, and freckles along her nose and cheeks. She wore what looked like a butchered Hogwarts uniform. Almost to the extent that it didn't even look like a Hogwarts uniform, but a school girl's tantrum, if it hadn't been for the Hogwarts badge newly stitched to the hem of her skirt. The girl also had a very peculiar accessory, which was a strand of thing string, each starting from behind her ears, and leading down to around her chest area. On the end of the two strings we're feathers tied on. She wasn't wearing a black cloak, but a fitted gray vest. The girl had short sleeves instead of long, but almost looked like she was wearing long sleeves, because of the extent of bracelets covering both arms. The blouse was longer then the vest and covered most of the skirt.
The boy checked her over again, and noticed the height of the skirt again, "But wasn't every girl's skirt heightened that high now a days?" He thought to himself, as he could feel his face getting uncomfortably warm. He continued to unnoticeably, stare at the girl. He continued down from her skirt, and saw some very loose big knee socks crumpled to above the knee, and at the bottom he noticed what looked like black heavy boots, sparred open by the jaws of hell. The boy gave a quick glance at the overall image of the girl, and realized he was either staring at a complete rebel, in the wrong place, or a very hot punk/goth.....and that his mouth was slowly but surely dropping open. A quick clack from the Hall doors, and a few people jumped out of the seats, since the doors made such a vibration through the floor. He, like many others turned to the entrance and found another older girl, quickly walking to the other girl he was eyeing at before. He noticed that this new, and older girl was much of the same, but different. She was much taller then the other girl, and was dark skinned. Her long damp hair (from the rain outside), was dangling from her back. She like the other, was wearing butchered school clothes. But she was wearing her long black cloak, but instead of the normal cloth for the material of the cloak, it was rather leathery, and dull. She had a tad longer skirt, with long black fishnet stockings on, with big clunky knee boots with buckles by the thousands on them. The boy leaned back a bit to get an overall look at these two outcasts that have just walked onto the premises of the norm. "Hey Malfoy, did you check out the gits?" asked a grinning girl, leaning towards him, pointing to the two girls in the back of the line. Malfoy quickly got out of his state of dreamland, and went back into reality. "ya.Ya, Pansy, they ARE two weirdos! I wonder where they came from? Transylvania!" the two of them let out a few laughs, before another boy from across the table of the two interrupted. "I hear they are from America!" The three exchanged pondering glances. Malfoy leaned back with his arms rested against his head, and his elbows in the air. He gave a small sigh, and cocked his eyebrow, to a small smirk. "Too many bloody bastards are going to this school, I might as well get my father to come here and well..." he turned his head more towards Pansy, and opened his eyes to an even wider smirk, "get my way".
~ "God I was such an arrogant, little git" said the man giving of a few chuckles. He was still sitting on the mossy bench, but shifted his legs and arms a tad bit, to make himself more comfortable for the wave or emotional downpours he knew he was going to be experiencing this long night. "I remember that the ceremonial night, that night went by fast..but awkwardly slow. ~
During the celebration, the two stray girls we're left to sit at the teachers table, since their body language told everyone they were too old to participate into the ceremony. Malfoy clapped when he needed to, from the cue from everyone else, but still eyed the girls every so often. It was close to the end of the ceremony when an emotional wave had attacked the fairly non innocent blonde boy. Malfoy screwed up his face, and hunched his head forward towards the shiny wooden table. He could feel his eyes begin to bulge with such strain it gave him a taunting migraine. "Not again." he told himself holding his hands within the other, under the table, to hide from the rest of the world incase someone was watching with a sideways glance. Malfoy could feel sweat swimming down his arms and hands onto the cold floor. He heard the earth pounding droplets crunch to the earth they only knew of, the muddy lace floor. His breathing became heavy, and he knew he had to get out of there. "I have to leave...i have to leave." he kept thinking to himself, as it was clearly to his eyes getting darker around him, it seemed like a dark day in hell for him. It was a sign for warning and emergency. He gave a sideways glance at the doors, but new it was over risky, because Filch was garding the door, to make sure no wise cracked student would leave, exactly what Malfoy wanted to do.
Before his brain cells could strand another glass of air into his small oxygen flow, there was a louder applause, which signaled.. "The ceremony is done..must leave". He heard yet more muffled screams and applause. He recognized this second wave of exuberant excitement as the appearance of Dinner. This was the perfect time for him to escape. No one would notice, a random person getting up and leaving, he could just saying he needed to go use the Lou. Malfoy made a dodge to the doors, and put on the most "normal" face and presence he could conjure at his dire moment of salvation. He walked steadily fast, down his long row of fellow Slytherins. "Finally." he signed to himself as he had reached the enormous, hand crafted doors which leaded to the exit. He merely not as much as open it when he slipped out through a small crack he managed to do, without anyone drawing attention to a blonde haired 4th year Slytherin exit the Dining Hall.
He roughly ran, dragging his feet behind him, up the stairs, and down the long halls, to his once familiar Slytherin Common Room, and dorm. He finally reached a pair of old Dungeon doors, that looked as if they we're ripped from the hose of a tormented castle, within the Medieval times. He looked down to see that both of his hands we're still just barely grasping onto the other. Malfoy conjured enough strength to left up one of his arms, and with effort, opened the Dungeon Doors. He staggered passed the newly furnished and decorated Green Common Room, which wasn't draped with "Welcome" signs like the other Commons. He headed up a wretchedly hard pair of stone stairs and tripped into a new hall, just as green as the other. Malfoy dragged his completely wasted body into an extremely large bathroom area, at the end of the excruciatingly long hallway.
Malfoy took his one strengthen cold hand, and reached for the smooth tabletop of one of the pear white sinks. He thrusted his arm at one of the Serpent shaped knobs, to turn on the dirty water of the castle, waste.
~ "I remember after turning on the water, dreadfully slow moving my head towards the mirror. I couldn't let help but let out a scream." The man paused, and let his jaw drop towards the direction of the warmth moon, trying to soak up every inch of artificial happiness he could get. He closed his eyes, and concentrated, on the exact picture he remembered. He eased up his tension, and let another one of his hands go down his painfully hurt face, and dim blonde slick hair, he had always recollected having.~
Within the mirror, he saw a poor, broken boy. Frighten from every sense of reality, and scared to the depths of his turned eyes. The boy within the mirror was bleeding...terribly. He was bleeding from the scrape of his raw nose, to the sides of his cheeks. There were stains all over his face, and his eyes we're beating with pain. It seemed the pain from his eyes we're thickening into his skull. He squinted and tried to make out we're this poor boy trapped in the mirror was bleeding from. He glanced around his body for an answer. He looked down within the sink, and saw his hands and wrists completely drenched in a red substance, which was pouring from the sink fountain. He roughly closed his eyes and tried to decipher what all of this meant. "What is happening to me?" the struggling Malfoy tried to ask himself, but couldn't. He knew perfectly too well what was happening, and wished for all of it to stop. For there to be a break in the stratosphere, and have his dimension crumble to the ashes. To have the whole existence of his dimension, disappear without a word, and for him to be gone. He took a closer look, and saw that it was his bleeding on his wrists that was making the liquid water turn a gruesome red, and the marks on his face we're nothing but whips from his wrists/hands, from earlier when he was running through the hall and tripped, and the spread of his nose bleed.
Malfoy desperately pulled himself from the leaking sink, and wobbled like an old Raggedy-Ann. He was trembling from head to foot. He knew only too well that he was going to die soon from the loss of too much blood, or at least pass out...badly. "I......my wound must have opened during the ceremony...I must've started bleeding then..was.I seen....I cant see..am I going blind.." Malfoy crumbled to the bottom of an endless pit, but was just the wet floor. He let out an even more painful scream, desperately calling for help. "Dammit..." he screamed again, and let his anger get the best of him. He jabbed his wrecked lonely wrist into the floor below him, and tired, and wasted, sat there breathing deeper then the humidity of the sun's roast in late August.
Footsteps..he could hear footsteps in the distance.they we're coming closer, and closer. All he wanted to do was swear at the damn fuck to get their ass in there and help his ass. He desperately tried to turn his body too see a better view of the git who heard his screams for struggling help, but retired the idea when he learned that his body lost inhumanly too much blood for him to operate properly.
It became dark...ever so dark. It was increasing at a very fast pace, and with the strain of a blink, hurt every part of his insides. He cocked his head backwards, and let every ounce of pain seep out into the blurriness covering his vision of the world. The only thing Malfoy wanted right now was to die, and give up. It wasn't worth the experience; looking back and seeing himself bleed to death upon the Slytherin Boy's bathroom, on the first day of his 4th year at Hogwarts. He wanted to die, and never look back. "How can my life get any more how it is like now?" he thought to himself, as he started drifting off..dangerously to far for someone to save him. It seemed like all hope was gone when his land of torture was interrupted.
Malfoy could see a figure standing above him, looking straight into his eyes. He couldn't make this strange thing above him, but he could see that it was a person, and that it had rather short brown hair. He squashed up his face, to see if his vision would magically come back to him, like everything else had done for him in his life, but before he could sense reality his vision gave way, and Malfoy had finally loss grasp of the world.
~ "I thought I was dying, when I was laying on that cold floor. I thought Hell or Heaven was here to receive my carcus, and bring me to the life beyond, this bloody fuck of a place. I could even make out the light at the end of the damn hallway...."~
"Damn, fuck. Are you fucken OK?" Malfoy heard a voice calling to him from beside his laying body, as he slowly led himself up to a sitting position with his legs spread down, far. He layed one of his hands on his raggedy knees, and took his other hand and reached out to hold his head from completely rolling off his shoulders. He finally reached his forehead, and moaned as the feel of cold sweat pools all over his hand, suddenly stream down his face. He felt a wave of an extreme pain, like he seemed he had experienced just a little bit ago, to himself. To him, it seemed like a "hangover" or whatever they call those things that you experience the morning after when your completely wasted and drunk. But he had been one of the two, and felt that feeling. He gave yet another moan of distress, and leaned over and vomited to his side, where he saw a perfect opening for.
"Aww crap, I help you, and THAT'S the thanks I receive? I was expecting maybe more of a "thank you so very much!" or "you are my god!"" said that same voice he heard just a second ago, and focused more on the owner of that familiar voice. "it was her..." he thought to himself, as he whipped the vomit from the edges of his mouth, and leaned back to an upright position, eyeing the person a little more closely.
She had short brown hair, let down that was hung over her face. It was, as he saw before, long in the front and short in the back. Her school blouse was hung open, and tied in the back with a tight black hair tie. She was wearing a black tank top, which lengthen down to the mid length of her skirt. Her shoes we're set aside on the wall, and her knee socks we're tightened even more, above the knee, so it didn't drag and roll around herself, while she was cleaning up his newly melted vomit, on the floor before her knees. She had a fairly stressed expression upon her face, and was viciously scrubbing away at the half dried vomit now on the floor, with a very wet sponge she must have scrabbled from one of the baths, or sinks. It was the girl Malfoy was eyeing at before from the earlier ceremony, which seemed almost days ago. "Was I really faint for that long?" he thought to himself, remembering the ceremony where the girl was.
"So what is a girl like you doing in a men's bathroom?" Malfoy asked, still eyeing the girl, while rubbing his hand over his pants, with vomit from his face. "Well if it's any of YOUR business, I merely got lost, and thought this was the girl's bathroom, since I had just been assigned to this house, while everyone was eating. Not the most masculine place around here is it? Or are all of you Slytherin boys just as angsty, and pansy as the other?" The girl said, while still paying her most attention to the floor she was cleaning. She started to get up and shot a look at him, and continuing stretching her body out to the fullest, and started heading for one of the closest sinks. "Hey, I wouldn't be being a bloody bastard if I were you, you're going to be receiving hell from all of us as the "new kid"" Malfoy said as he started getting up, but failed at the attempt, and had to hold himself from completely collapsing again. "You shouldn't be trying to put up to your weakling strength, and try and get up. You loosed way too much blood just a bit ago, and your scars aren't completely healed" She said as she took one of his arms and put it around her neck, so she could handle half of his wait, and keep him balanced. She pointed at the long cuts down Malfoy's wrists, to show him that they were still beat red, and like as she said weren't completely healed.