A/N: Malfoy is replaying a part of his life in his mind. It's as if he's telling the story. It goes to the song *Numb* by Linkin Park. Enjoy! ......... Oh, yea, I own nothing. ^sniffle^

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Numb~LinkinPark
Draco's Story

I looked across the open yard and watched the moon surface in the distance. The sun sank leaving a shadow across the ground and darkness filling my room. My silver tinted eyes ventured up to the half crescent moon, as it showed brightly as a lantern giving me enough light to see the trees in the distance.

'They're so peaceful,' I thought. 'At some points I wish I were a tree. No one to look up to, just the sky. No one telling me I could be better, because I'd already be a grand tree. But no, I figure trees also have a time in their life when they have to look up at the bigger ones and feel so small. As if anything could be better than them. Pressure is set upon them too, to be a big oak, or pine. Giving shade to the miserable people under them, giving housing to the pesky creatures that raze their branches.

'Yes, we all have that pressure to be great. To be like the other, maybe better. I look at myself and see that I've been built up around pressure.'

I stood slowly from my arched seat upon the windowsill. Walking over to my door I hear outside the voice of my mother,

"He's scared of you, he wants to be best in your eyes."

She cried to him. Him? That malicious man... no, not even a man. He's a monster, not even human. If he were human he'd know what feeling he puts in my soul.

Pressure, pressure, pressure.

I repeat insanely as I pull my hand away from the cold knob.

~I'm tired of being what you want me to be

Feeling so faithless lost under the surface

Don't know what you're expecting of me

Put under the pressure of walking in your shoes~

I look back to my window and outside to that big moon. He's the only one that listens. I whisper to him:

~Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow~

I'm stuck in this pain that my father doesn't realize he's putting on me. Or does he see it? Always stressing me into this life that I don't want. I always come out short handed when I try to make him see how I feel.

~Every step that I take is another mistake to you~

Feelings don't mean anything to him. He has no feelings. Do I have them? Is this a "feeling" or a fear? I snickered at my stupidity. Fear is a feeling. Does my father feel anything? I look at my mother and wonder what she's ever seen in him. Does she 'feel'? She must, right? I'm caught in between.

~Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow~

I stand on my shaking legs and walk back over to the moon at my window.

You listen? I asked as if hoping to get an answer. No words from the wind did I hear, only the hoot of an owl. How can I become so willing to pain?

~I've become so numb I can't feel you there

I've become so tired so much more aware

I'm becoming this all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like you~

Instead of staring at the moon, which may listen, but never gives advice, I looked down at the ground. The dew. Now, is it peaceful? Does it have to look at some other drip and see......... wait! Listen to my thoughts! I'm talking about dew? Has my father really put me through this much hurt that I have to compare myself to 'dew'?

~Can't you see that you're smothering me

Holding too tightly afraid to lose control~

I stand erect on my windowsill and see the ground below me. If I just let go of my footing would my friend, the moon, catch me? No, he wouldn't. If my father were here, would he find in his heart the decency to at least show at least a little remorse and tell me that it's all ok and that what I want is good enough for him.

A smile broadens over my face as I remember the look on his countenance when I said this evening, "That's not my will, not my life, it's yours."

It was a look of utter disgust and annoyance. It hurt me, but I knew it was coming.

~Cause everything that you thought I would be

Has fallen apart right in front of you

(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)~

I couldn't expect anything less, anything more. It's all too much for me. Can I stand another day? I ask myself watching the grass slowly bend to the winds will. Yes, that's me. I would think, right? Bowing to the will of my father as the grass bows to the winds mite. I haven't yet, but if I would have to hear another day's words of my father's wants for me to join......... then I might just cave. Nothing I do is right to him anyway, why now do I have to make him happy?

~Every step that I take is another mistake to you

(Caught in the undertow just caught in the undertow)

And every second I waste is more than I can take~

My laugh has become hallow, my soul has become blacker than ever, and my heart is always in pieces. Nothing can put it together. I have to stand up to him, right? Can I do that? My life is, as if, dying before my eyes.

~I've become so numb I can't feel you there

I've become so tired so much more aware

I'm becoming this all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like you~

The wind blew my hair up while I twirled around freely on the windowsill. I walked back and forth, not holding on. I daringly twiddled my foot over the side and leaned forward. Before completely letting go of all I could fix and have I grabbed myself. My eyes gazed forward and a flash of my mother crossed my mind. Even as I'm 16 my mother always has some say so in what I do, even without her knowing it. I remember a while ago when she caught me crying. My father had just told me the date of my "acceptance" with the Dark Lord and my mother comes in and says that

"You know, your father does this because he was raised the same way."

My eyes raised in disbelief.

"Yes," she would continue, "Your father lived to be better than his own father. His father was always pressuring him into going into the family business."

"Did he?" I asked ponderingly.

"Doesn't he work at the Ministry?"

I laughed and looked across my life. Every time my father hinted at me to 'join Voldemort' was him portraying his father in his own way. Would I become my father? I pray I wouldn't.

~And I know I may end up failing too

But I know You were just like me

With someone disappointed in you~

Now I know. The secret my father kept deep. I admitted to myself while jumping back and forth on my sill staring down at the welcoming grass. He may have a little human in him, I guess. He grew up to be his father. An every boy's dream, I guess I'm not an 'every boy' though. It usually goes, 'I want to be just like my father', I whispered mimickingly. And the boy grows up to be his own man. Then, yet another boy wants to be nothing like his dad and that is exactly who he turns out to be. Nothing subdues it, it just happens.

That's who I'm going to become? In a way, I've already started. Jump! I think threateningly as I leap, but as reflex I grab my walls. No, I can't yet. Think about this......... that's what I'm doing. It hurts to think about it, though. I think......

~I've become so numb I can't feel you there

I've become so tired so much more aware

I'm becoming this all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like you~

I think I still need a little time before I completely make up my mind that life is not worth it anymore.

I jumped down and ran to my dresser. I started to flail my arms to and fro through my clothes and pulled out my Hogwarts robes and all important to me. I grabbed my luggage and threw everything in it. I grabbed my wand and made everything float out of my window and to the ground.

"It's over," I whispered to the lonely blackness of my empty room as I leap out of my window landing carefully on the ground below.

~I've become so numb I can't feel you there

Tired of being what you want me to be

I've become so numb I can't feel you there

Tired of being what you want me to be~