A/N this is like my other songfics. each chapter is inspired and based on a matchbox twenty song.
Unwell
Ever since his father's arrest Draco Malfoy had been restless. He refused to see anyone, much less speak to them. He had a lot of thinking to do.
He couldn't remember the last time he had slept properly. He would lie on his back on his bed and stare at the ceiling. Occasionally he would drift off to sleep but he woke not long after, never sure if he had truly slept. Maybe he should get up. Maybe he should get dressed. Maybe he should go out and distract himself. Maybe he should do a lot of things.
Why was this happening to him? Was his father's absence really that important? It wasn't as if his father had ever truly cared for him, all he wanted was a suitable heir. Why did he suddenly feel as though his entire world was called into question? He felt like he was losing his mind. It was insane to question the Dark Lord, and wasn't that what he was doing? Wasn't he, for the first time in his life, trying to figure out how he felt about something?
He had always done what was best for himself like a good Malfoy, a good Slytherin. He had always believed in blood purity, Malfoy superiority, and the power of money, but now he wasn't so sure. Now that he was finally free, for a time anyway, to think for himself and he was going to do so. He was going to figure out where he stood on everything.
He knew no one was going to believe him capable of soul searching. He knew no one believed he had a soul. He knew.
When he got to King's Cross station September first everyone was watching him. No one he passed as he walked down the corridor of the train even tried to hide their staring. Did they all expect him to kill every Gryffindor he passed? Probably.
He knew what they were saying. He knew some thought he would be glad his father was in prison and would be ecstatic if the man died, leaving everything in his hands. He knew others believed he would swear revenge and go out for blood. He knew most were convinced he had taken his father's place in the death eaters.
He would never be a death eater, that was insane. Why follow a maniac in a doomed cause that will only end in death? But he would never belong with the rest of the world either. He didn't belong anywhere. He despised people and they way they looked at him. They made him feel like something was wrong with himself, like he was some sort of freak. Maybe he was, but he'd rather be a freak than a fucking moron.
None of them would ever take the time to look at him, to get to know him. No one would ever let him be himself.
Maybe he would disappear, leave the whole lot behind. Maybe he would leave this whole world behind and make a place himself somewhere, anywhere else.
He would have to disappear anyway. The death eaters would never let him live once he refused them and the bloody Order would never accept him. If he expected to survive the war his best bet was to just not be there one morning.
There were still so many questions swirling in his mind. He still had no clue what he believed or what he felt. All he knew was that Voldemort was insane and his father was a lunatic, but they were people and their actions were their actions. That was of little help to him in deciding how he viewed the world. Did it really matter, though? Whether he believed anything? After all, he planned on disappearing, didn't he? So what did it matter what his position on the war was?
He wondered if the other students would fear him even more now that he had become so reserved. He wondered if they would worry for his sanity. He almost smirked at the thought of convincing everyone he was mad.
He doubted they would even notice, though. They would probably decide that he was devoting his time to some dark mission or other.
He was so tired of rumours. He was so fed up with everyone thinking they knew everything. He was so sick of people thinking they knew him.
He settled into a compartment at the end of the train, ignoring his prefect duties in the meeting at the front.
Should he continue to torture the other students just so people would leave him alone?
Why? He had no reason. He had no reason to cause anyone else pain. He had no reason to defend anyone. He had no reason to do anything.
Who cared where he stood on the blood purity or class distinction issues anymore? He didn't care if their blood was pure or their purse full, he had decided they were all the same, all the same and none worth the time or the pain.