I can't take any more.

I want to die.

My once grand family name has been turned to muck, my father in Azkaban serving a life sentence, my mother committed suicide the day the verdict was given.

I hated them both. After my trial the world found out many secrets of mine. Ones I kept hidden for a good reason. But now the world knows how my family beat me and tortured me. They know that I am gay, and they know that I spent a year chained to the Dark Lord's bed post after I refused to kill an innocent child. What I did was right but the punishment I was given still leaves me ashamed. They saw the scars from the many beating I have received and the scars I put there myself. They took my memories of the beatings and watched them. They watched what I did under the imperious curse. They now know just what I am. Nothing but a coward.

Well not any more.

I stand high above the ground on the roof of the Malfoy Manor and look out at the stars. Three months have passed since the battle of Hogwarts and there is not a day that goes by that I don't think of what I have done wrong. I cannot forget what I have who I have wronged. And who suffered the consequences. News flash it wasn't only me.

Most people leave me alone now, since the big story where everything about me was revealed to the world the reporters have left looking for the next story and the sympathisers stopped sending stupid and rather annoying letters of remorse. I have had enough peace to think.

I took out a quill and a pot of ink and began to write.

I Draco Lucius Malfoy put to paper my last will and testimony.

To Pansy Parkinson I leave my mother's jewellery as she loved it so.

To Blaise Zabini I leave all my quidditch supplies and brooms as he loved to fly.

To Gregory Goyle I leave the set of magic tricks he used to play with.

To my cousin Drusilla Black I leave everything else.

I place the note on the ground and snapped my wand in two. I used my broken wand as a weight to stop the paper from blowing away. Tears threatening to fall as I take one last look at my home.

I look around the gardens of the manor, now awash with the early morning rays of the sun, green and full of the most stunning flowers. But I can only remember the colours from memory as all I can see are shades of grey. Black shadows of grief attempt to cloud my vision, closing in faster than ever. It's as if it knows that the end of my suffering is nigh, and it wants me to see more clearly than ever what I have done before I can think no more. The tears begin to fall freely now.

I take one last deep breath and jump.

As I fall to the ground, all I can think of is I am free.

Six hours later his body was found by Drusilla Black. His un-staring eyes were still open and a saddening smile on his tear streaked face. It was the first time in years he had looked at peace.

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