Draco's Deed Chapter 1: Default Chapter, a harry potter fanfic

One day, an eerie quiet loomed over a magic London square. Magic, Yellow tape surrounded a large manor, Malfoy Manor.

It was just another story written on the second page
Underneath the Tiger's football score

Harry had been woken up early by a disheartened Hermione; holding a tear-stained daily prophet. What Harry saw, he couldn't believe it.

It said he was only eighteen, a boy about my age
They found him face down on the bedroom floor

'Draco Malfoy was found dead early this morning by his now grief-stricken father. The healers at St. Mungo's determined that Mr. Malfoy Jr. died by an accidental cause.' Special respondent Rita Skeeter reported.

"What happened?" Harry managed to ask. At this simple question Hermione just hugged Harry, and sobbed. No one considered the death of an enemy would hit one this hard.

There'll be services on Friday at the Lawrence Funeral Home
Then out on Mooresville highway, they'll lay him 'neath a stone...

So, on Friday afternoon, a smaller crowd than believed would've assembled gathered in a small emerald covered cemetery outside Bristol. There was a spacious jade tent with many folding chairs assembled. At the front of the assembled chairs was a steel gray casket that was opened at one end, and behind it stood a member of the clergy dressed in a black alb with white sleeves.

There were people from all over the Wizarding community assembled. Dressed in black was none other than the grieving parents, Lucius and Narsissa Malfoy. Mrs. Malfoy was wearing a traditional mourning black hat with an attached veil. Mrs. Malfoy was sobbing just under hysterics almost. Mr. Malfoy was quite calm, and looked somber, Mrs. Weasly suggested he was in shock still of coming to grasps of finding his son in a heap of blood in a guest bathroom tub.

As the Clergy member started his Eulogy, it's safe to say, everyone was asking themselves the same questions.

How do you get that lonely, how do you hurt that bad
To make you make the call, that havin' no life at all
Is better than the life that you had
How do you feel so empty, you want to let it all go
How do you get that lonely... and nobody know

Did his girlfriend break up with him; did he buy or steal that gun?
Did he lose a fight with drugs or alcohol?
Did his Mom and Daddy forget to say I love you son?
Did no one see the writing on the wall?

The preacher's eulogy was formal, though the atmosphere was heavy with Sorrow, Regret, and the emotions that come with a hushed up suicide. Malfoy Sr. got up after the eulogy was finished and relived his son's many qualifications and how much 'the manor' would miss him. Mrs. Malfoy, grief stricken was plainly too emotional to speak in front of the group assembled to pay their last respects. Her puffy, swollen, blood-shot eyes displayed everything as plain as day.

I'm not blamin' anybody, we all do the best we can
I know hindsight's 20/20, but I still don't understand...

After Malfoy Sr. sat down with his wife with a look on his face like trying to suppress some kind of emotion, his wife, who by the looks of it was ready to collapse from the emotional strain, the assembly formed a line, to view the casket. Hermione resembled Mrs. Malfoy in how her facial features were swollen and bloodshot from crying. Harry couldn't get why this struck the 'golden trio' so hard-Draco was their sworn enemy in saying the least. Ron, Harry saw, was pensive. The emotion in his eyes seemed unsure; like he didn't know why he really was there. As the Gryffindor trio neared the casket, Harry saw to his surprise, was a bandage on Draco's right temple, and Harry just couldn't help but think of the all too common question that day;

Hermione couldn't take it anymore, and she collapsed almost out-right into Ron's arms, and had to be helped out of the vicinity. At one more glance into the casket that held his 'arch-enemy' the-boy-who-lived looked at the-boy-who's-life-somehow-was-tragically-cut-too-short and saw they were the same, just as young, just as arrogant as the next kid. Harry thought of the morning before when Hermione had awoken Harry to the disturbing news.

It was just another story printed on the second page
Underneath the Tiger's football score...

He walked away, but muttered, ' Thanks, Mate, I understand, and I'll have your back when we indeed meet again.

Blaine Larsen - "How Do You Get That Lonely"

Rory Lee Feek/Jamie Teachener

A/N Hey guys! I hope this isn't too sad to you guys. I started writing this a while ago, and didn't want to publish, or actually finish it because I thought if I did, people would get too sad. Alas, I came to the conclusion that I would. My friend Emmy said she liked my beginning, and that's a cool compliment to come from a fellow author. So, thanks Emmy! Now, I have an idea for this song/fic. If I get enough reviews telling me to continue, I have a plot already planned out, so if you want to know why Draco's really dead, oops, probably shouldn't have told you that…hmm. Well, this song is a good song for me to listen to, personally because I was depressed, I don't think I am any more, but that song just touches home with me…because I always think 'what if I did that?' But I thank God I didn't. Well, I'm kinda just rambling…but hey, my other fic. Isn't updated yet, and I feel bad about it, so a new one! Yay! If you like my writing, check out my other story, it's getting good. I'm working on chapter three as of March 4, 2005 at 11oclock p.m. and it's getting good, trust me! Well, have a good day, or night, or whatever! Love from Jenn

Ps: love TOM FELTON! I'd love to meet him! Ah! Wow, so tired I've got that spurt of energy. Hmm. And Blaine Larsen, it'd be awesome to meet, and get to sing with him, (AND/Or Tom!) Blaine sounds like he's thirty, and he's only 19 or so. He's such a good singer! Okay, Jenn, just go to bed! OH! I DIDN'T CREATE HARRY POTTER! I FORGOT THAT PART. Don't sue. If I were even half as creative as Mrs. J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't be a lowly junior who spends all her time on the computer, writing, or drawing anime, not to mention dreaming of Tom Felton (hey, I'm a teenaged girl, I can!) and what it'd be like to meet him…sigh…Okay, a little uplifting personality in the writing to counter the sadness. I promise, I don't usually write this big of an author's note.

Okay, I promise that's it. Night all!