Graffiti decorations
Under a sky of dust
A constant wave of tension
On top of broken trust
The lessons that you taught me
I learn were never true
Now I find myself in question
(They point the finger at me again)
Guilty by association
(You point the finger at me again)
"You WILL receive the Dark Mark, Draco," Lucius sneered coldly, thrusting his wand at his son's neck, smirking at the way Draco trembled in fright, eyelids clamped shut, tears leaking slowly down his cheeks.
"N-No...." Draco whimpered, edging backwards, a new wave of convulsions gripping him firmly and shaking everything inside him.
"Yes, you will, my dear son," Lucius grinned, and tweaking his wand between his fingers, pointing it at the young Malfoy, he roared, "CRUCIATUS!!!!"
Draco's scream reverberated through the Malfoy Manor, making the house-elves shudder and scamper. They still hadn't become accustomed to the beatings and torturings that befell Draco Malfoy on a daily basis.
"YOU LIKE IT, DRACO!?!?" Lucius bellowed, lowering his wand, and kneeling beside him to pin his hands above his head. "You better, Dragon," Lucius whispered. "My pale, sweet son, you had better like it. You'll be getting it quite often."
And Lucius swept away in a flurry of black robes, not before lashing Draco's side with his foot, earning another weak choke of pain.
How, Draco wondered agonizingly, as he was left to sob on the cold, tile floor, could I have ever trusted him.....?
I wanna run away
Never say goodbye
I wanna know the truth
Instead of wondering why
I wanna know the answers
No more lies
I wanna shut the door
And open up my mind
Malfoy Manor was drowned in shadows, the only light seeping through the elegant archway windows, bathing the walls, floors, and ancient paintings in platinum rays.
A young, pale boy, his silver eyes hidden by a fringe of white-blonde hair, slipped frantically through the mansion, desperately praying to whatever God there was that neither Lucius nor Narcissa would awaken.
Should Lucius discover him..... Draco would have no life to loathe. Should Narcissa find him sneaking away, his smooth, butter-like skin would be adorned with crimson slits and violet bruises. And then Lucius would intervene and he would still have no life to loathe.
Draco, panting heavily and on the verge of crying, reached the final staircase and flew down them, his robes billowing, the bag on his back thumping softly.
"No goodbyes.... I'm tired of these lies....." he whispered, before wrenching open the Manor doors, and disappearing out of them into the night.
Paper bags and angry voices
Under a sky of dust
Another wave of tension
Has more than filled me up
All my talk of taking action
These words were never true
Now I find myself in question
(They point the finger at me again)
Guilty by association
(You point the finger at me again)
"HARRY!!!!" screeched Uncle Vernon, his face scarlet and puffy, his fists balled at his sides. "GET YOUR SORRY HIDE IN HERE, NOW!!!"
Harry's emerald eyes darkened, and pushing himself up from his cramped bed, he thundered down the stairs and stood on the last one, pausing in front of his hostile relative.
"What?" he mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes.
Great Merlin, what do they want from me now.....?
"What is this?!?!" screamed Uncle Vernon, holding up a broken plaque that he recognized to belong to Aunt Petunia, one that she had earned in a "Best Decorated Lawn and Porch" contest.
"A broken plaque," Harry replied through gritted teeth, knowing exactly what was going to happen next before it even did.
"Dudley said you were traipsing about with his baseball bat!" Uncle Vernon inflated his chest proudly. "And that you deliberately smashed your aunt's plaque!"
Harry's chest constricted furiously. Just because he knew this was going to happen did not make him any less angry.
"And you believed that!?" Harry hissed.
"Are you saying Dudley lied?" Vernon growled, snatching Harry by his shirt and flinging him backwards. Harry slammed his head on the stair above the one he stood on, and stars erupted behind his eyes.
"No...." Harry snarled, trying to sit up but groaning slightly as a shrieking pain seemed to flash through his brain. "I'm saying how could I have done it if I have been asleep the past four hours?"
Uncle Vernon's face turned purple, and instead of making a reasonable assumption and apologizing (which Harry would have a better chance of believing Dumbledore getting pregnant than his uncle admitting he was wrong and apologizing) his fist lashed across Harry's face, blood immediately spewing from the wound.
"GO TO YOUR ROOM!! DON"T COME OUT!! I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOU!!"
Glaring up at his uncle, Harry reached into his back pocket and pointed his wand in Vernon's face.
"Get. Off. Of. Me."
Vernon leaped back as if Harry had brandished a sword in his face, and cried, "Get away from me with that.... that.... thing!!"
"Oh, I'll get away. And I won't come back."
I wanna run away
Never say goodbye
I wanna know the truth
Instead of wondering why
I wanna know the answers
No more lies
I wanna shut the door
And open up my mind
Harry whipped past Uncle Vernon, clutching his bleeding nose, the salty, crimson liquid seeping between his fingers. He flung open the door leading to the house of Number Four Privet Drive, and stormed out, slamming it so hard behind him the pictures on the wall shook and the door frame rattled.
He dashed down the driveway and onto the road, panting and crying ferocious sobs. He had no idea where he would go; all he had was his wand.
"I know not all people live this way...." Harry muttered to himself, slowly pacing down the road, looking across the dark tree tops. Where was he?
He paused suddenly; he recognized where he was. The Leaky Cauldron; he was close to the wizarding community, he could get help.
Tapping the brick outside the Leaky Cauldron, he slipped into the community where he felt at home.
I'm gonna run away and never say goodbye
(Gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away)
I'm gonna run away and never wonder why
(Gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away)
I'm gonna run away and open up my mind
(Gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away gonna run away)
Draco didn't know where else to go; he couldn't wander London at his leisure in the middle of the night. He might have had his wand, but what good was that when he couldn't perform magic without risking expulsion from one of the only places he felt safe and at home?
And it struck him; he could flee to Diagon Alley until he could run into someone he knew that could provide help. Yes. That would work.
He was running as if his life depended on it, and then again, he reminded himself, it probably did. His chest and sides burned with stitches, but it only took him about twenty minutes to wander into the Leaky Cauldron; and then through the archway into Diagon Alley.
I wanna run away
Never say goodbye
I wanna know the truth
Instead of wondering why
I wanna know the answers
No more lies
I wanna shut the door
And open up my mind
Wary of the suspicious looking witches and wizards passing down the street at night, Harry determined it would be a good idea to maybe withdraw some money from the wizarding bank, Gringotts. He would need it to buy him a room at a hotel or something, and maybe for a change of clothes.
Harry would have started calming down, had he not heard footsteps following rapidly behind him.
They matched his pace exactly, and deciding one of those creepy street pacers was about to jump him, he began to run again. It hurt his respiratory system brilliantly, like knives in his lungs, but he kept going, until the looming building of Gringotts filled his vision.
The footsteps followed him into the bank, and Harry wheeled around, frightened and angry and an emotional stress.
"Why are you following me-?! Malfoy!?!?!"
I wanna run away
and open up my mind
I wanna run away
and open up my mind
I wanna run away
and open up my mind
I wanna run away
and open up my mind
"W-what are you doing, Malfoy?" Harry hissed, urging himself not to cry, so many straining events pulling at him from every direction.....
Draco had purple bags under his metallic gaze, and his trademark smirk was not there. His eyes seemed rather blank, and an angry red bruise seemed to be forming on his cheekbone.
"I-I... felt like I just had to runaway....." he choked, tears spilling out his steel irises. Draco had no idea why he was telling Harry, but then again, remembering all the tales he knew about the Muggles Harry lived with, he thought maybe he could relate.... And anyways, Harry had become so handsome and strong looking....
Harry froze upon seeing Draco's tears, heart stopped altogether. What was compelling him to cry at the pain on that gorgeous face?
Before he knew what he was doing, he had crossed the few steps between him and Malfoy and embraced him. Only then did he see the lashes, slits, and bruises on Draco's face and arms.
"I did too, Draco...." Harry sobbed onto his shoulder, smearing blood all over the Malfoy's robes, not caring how odd this situation might have been. Draco and Harry, crying into each other's clothes, in the middle of Gringotts.
Finally, Draco pulled away slightly, sniffing, and looked into Harry's shimmering bright green eyes.
"Then.... can we....?" Draco whispered, taking Harry's hand in his own.
"Yes, I think we can," Harry said, for some reason knowing exactly what Draco wanted to ask him.
So, gently letting go of the pale boy's hand, and marching up to goblin at the front desk, who had watched the two's exchange with mild interest, Harry demanded in a shaky, yet determined, firm voice, "I need to withdraw some money for a room for me and my friend."