This Is Who I Really Am
By: Hannah

I am Draco Malfoy. I am the purest of purebloods; I come from a long line of Slytherin's. I am envied by many, as well as loved, men want me and want to be me, women want me as well, but the feeling is not mutual. The only one that I want does not want me.

What if I wanted to break
Laugh it all off in your face
What would you do . . .

He had that fire. That fire that I wanted so much to consume and warm my icy soul. Because how could something that burned as hot as he did not melt my frigid insides.

When we were children, I never noticed him, well I noticed him but only when he stood next to Potter. Other than that Ron Weasley didn't matter, if he had disappeared during those times I wouldn't have noticed, nor would have I cared.

When I did notice him it as if a siren went off in my head. It was loud and piercing and when I looked into his light, it made my eyes water. When I saw his flame, I was drawn to it, I wanted his flames to burn me to a cinder, wanted to bask in his warmth, preferably in the comfort of his embrace.

What if I fell to the floor,
Couldn't take this anymore,
What would you do . . .

It was ironic really. When I notice the poor bastard he has no regard for me. Even when I insult him and curse his mother and call her a fat loaf, he barely even registers my presence. He just scoffs and walks away. Doesn't he know that this kills me more, that he won't even trade a few choice words with me? He just walks away like he's the better fucking man. No one is above a Malfoy.

Especially pureblood filth like Ron Weasley.

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me, I am
Finished with you . . .

I wanted him. I wanted him badly. Wanted to run my fingers through that fiery red hair, wanted to tug on it and bite into his neck, claim him as mine and mine alone that no one was allowed to touch that Adonis but me. How could I claim him if he couldn't even stand to be in my presence, imagine that, someone not wanting to be near me, half of Hogwarts wanted to be near me, be it to fuck me or be fucked by me, but not him never him. It made me crave him more.

What if I wanted to fight
Beg for the rest of my life
What would you do, you
Say you wanted more, what
Are you waiting for, I'm not
Running from you . . .

When the war happened and I chose my side and he chose his, I often wondered if he had returned my sentiments would I have chosen to stand beside him or would I have chosen the side I was taught to fight along all my life, could I actually have betrayed my father and his beliefs for even a chance at a feeling, a feeling I was taught to deny, that above all else power reigned supreme any other emotion was a waste of time. But would those words, three simple words, could have freed me? From what I don't know, because this life is all I know.

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me, I am
Finished with you, look
In my eyes, you're killing
Me, killing me, I am
Finished with you . . .

I once tried to be civil to him. We had come to the Great Hall at the same time, no one else around but us, just Weasley and me. We both stopped and stared at the closed doors for a moment. No one in our little space, just Draco and Ron and we stood there.

"Malfoy." He said, with just a hint of disdain, not the full venom that I'm used to and for some reason it felt like silk covering my skin and I wanted him to say it aga

"Weasley."

And in that moment I had my chance. My chance to express everything that I wanted to say and do to the redheaded god, I wanted to fall to my knees and take him, mark him, taste him, I wanted to hear his sinful voice moan and I wanted to feel him writhe underneath my touch. But I am Draco Malfoy and I fuck everything up.

"Going to stuff yourself to the gills again, Weasley? Since your useless father can't afford to buy even a scrap of bread?" I cringed inwardly, but outwardly I smirked and he just shook his head and walked away.

I tried to be someone else
But nothing seemed to change
I know now, this is who I really
Am inside . . .

I couldn't do it. It's not my style. I am Draco Malfoy, I am the son of Lucius Malfoy, the grandson of the great Abraxas Malfoy. I am a pureblood plain and simple and I was taught to hate all things that went against everything I believed in. But, here's the rub. What is it that I believe in? I don't really have any beliefs. All my beliefs are someone else's.

I finally found myself
Fighting for a chance I
Know now, this is who
I really am . . .

"Draco, our Lord say's it's time." That's Nott. Nott still gives me the fucking creeps. But he's higher on the chain than I am. Because he actually got his task done, me I failed because Dumbledore thought I could be a better person. He never knew that I am no one. I am an empty shell, with nothing inside that belongs to me, my thoughts, and my feelings, belong to a madman.

"Right." I say as I secure my mask in place and tug my robes in tighter. I can do this. I can do this. I've been chanting that mantra in my head since I found out, since I realized that I would be the one bringing him to his death.

Come break me down
Bury me, bury me, I am
Finished with you, you . . .

I traverse through the corridors. I clear my mind of any happy thought. The Dementors will affect you if even one ounce of happy thought is in your head. And I've cleared them all. I'm as blank as a canvass, a canvass that was once decorated with flecks of gold, a fiery red sun, above a cerulean sea, with stormy grey clouds that were trying to find more light from the fire that burned. But now there is nothing. I am empty.

You, look in my eyes,
You're killing me, killing
Me, all I wanted was you . . .

"It's time."

He struggles to stand up. I wince inwardly at his battered state. They tortured him for hours, but he still refuses to tell us where Potter is hiding, he's so foolish.

"I hoped it would be you." Weasley whispers as he holds his head high and I try to remember him with his goofy grin, the red hair is matted to his head, I can no longer tell if it's naturally red or if it's red from the amounts of blood sticking to it.

He blinks with his good eye, the other my father holds and taunts me with it, telling me that he's got Weasley's eye on me at all times if I do anything 'heroic'. My father knows me all to well. That maybe the one thing that would make me turn from this madness is Ron Weasley and his death. He is wrong. I am Draco Malfoy and I am a pureblood. Plain and simple.

I scoff. "Me. Why would you hope it was me?"

"Take the mask off, Malfoy. There's no need for it."

I can't. It's the only thing that can hide me from a life that I want. This is the life I chose. "I'd rather not. It smells from your rotting flesh in this cell and my mask is keeping me from it."

He smiles. And I see that a couple of his teeth are gone. I take a deep breath. "Come. Weasley. Your fate waits."

He just nods and Nott comes into the room. Obviously I'm taking too long. But I feel like I'm owed this moment. I want this moment. I want to take this moment and lock it away, because in my mind. I save him. I Apparate him out of here and he thanks me and I join the light and maybe, just maybe he'll thank me with a touch. A simple touch. It's all that I can ask for.

Come break me down
Break me down, Break
Me down . . .

Nott grabs him by the neck and pushes him out, just as he walks by me he grabs me and throws my mask off and before Nott can stun him he kisses me. Kisses me hard and then he pulls back and I'm shocked.

"I always wanted it to be you." He whispers before Nott stuns him and takes him to his death.

"Hurry, Malfoy. Or you'll miss the evisceration." Nott grins and licks his lips and it takes all that is in me to not throw up.

I fall to my knees and I try not to cry. I am Draco Malfoy. I am Draco Malfoy and this is my fate. I am Draco Malfoy and I have just killed Ron Weasley. This is who I am. This is what I was taught to be. I am a pureblood, I am in line with dozens of purebloods, my legacy is great and I shall have great power. I am Draco Malfoy and I am a murderer.

I am Draco Malfoy . . . I am nothing.

What if I wanted to break . . .