Limit

Disclaimer: Not mine, please don't sue.

AN: I am sooo bloody annoyed right now. England just lost 3-1 to the damn Aussies in football so this calls for a death fic to vent my frustration. I have also just finished reading Macbeth at college today so that plays a part too.

Damn you David James .. your job is too save the goals. Michael Owen .. your job is too score the goals. Listen up boys ... the aim of football ... *ahem* you have to get the small round leathery thing into the big rectangular netty thing behind the dude who does not play for your team with the big Mickey Mouse type gloves .. k?

I swear .. one day that game is gonna be the death of me. Right now it's the death of someone else. ^_~

Warning: Dark and twisted with lots of blood and swearing, mostly by me.

Summary: What happens when your rival pushes you to your limit? What happens when you can't take him anymore? What happens when a Malfoy goes slightly mental?

It has to be a Harry Potter death fic because I'm not pissed off enough to kill an elf, damn Peter Jackson did that for me *growls* poor Haldir.

By: ms-dynamite

Limit

Draco wasn't exactly sure when his rivalry with Harry Potter turned into something more sinister. At first he had just wanted to shove a broomstick where the sun didn't shine ... but now he felt like beating the little fuckers face in with one.

The Malfoy stood in his room, staring at his reflection in the full length mirror, leather glove bound hands placed on either side, for hours he'd been standing there, just staring into a set of grey eyes that did nothing more than stare back with a chilling ferocity.

On the chest next to him lay a silver dagger, wrapped in worn black cloth, dull patches of dried blood marring the fabric as it lay. One leather clad hand reached down, steady fingers wrapping assuredly around the jade handle of the shimmering weapon, a dragon coiled around the pointed shaft. Without removing his gaze from the mirror, Draco twirled the blade around in his fingers, his other hand coming across to tap the razor tip once before lifting it to his eyes.

Staring at the heirloom, he stepped away from the mirror, coming to rest by the edge of his bed. Turning he grabbed his cloak which was haphazardly strewn across it and threw it over his shoulders. Smirking sadistically to himself, he covered the distance between the bed and the door in three long strides, slipping the dagger into a pocket as he went. Clasping the door handle he swung open the oaken barrier, not bothering to close it as he made his way threw the empty common room towards the stairs.

He halted just before the sleeping portrait covering the entrance to the Gryffindor tower, grey pools narrowing as he watched it. He wasn't bothered about all this password crap.

It was only a fucking painting after all, striding forth he removed the dagger and plunged it into the base of the canvas. Smirking as the Lady awoke, he slit his way all the way to the top, before pusing his way through. A really crappy barrier if you asked his opinion.

Making his way silently through the Common Room, the intruder assuredly made his way up the stairs towards his desired destination. In complete silence he carefully opened the door and crept across the boy's dorm like a cat stalking it's prey. Coming to rest beside the bed of the unsuspecting victim, he spent a sickening amount of time contemplating how to kill stupid Potter.

Draco eventually decided he would slit his throat .. not enough to kill him instantly, he wanted Wonder Boy to suffer, but enough for it to be fatal. in a swift movement, Draco Malfoy's left arm shot forward, grabbing a fistfull of unruly black hair, Harry let out a cry of suprise, his eyes flying open. The yell soon disolved into a gurgle when Draco cast his right, dagger armed hand across his throat, unleashing blood and agony.

This was all of course enough to wake the other residents in the room, and within moments Draco was ambushed by three very pissed off guys. None knowing what had happened.

Draco laughed manically as he watched the fear etched on Harry's features as he gasped for breath, his laughter increased once he had dropped the dagger which landed with a dull thud upon the carpeted floor, rejoicing in the look of pure horror as it unfolded on Ron's face as his gaze fell on the bloodied weapon, releasing his hold on the back of Draco's head, he darted forward to Harry, who by now was at death's door.

The next moments were a blur, the school came alive as teachers were alerted and soon Draco was being dragged from the dormitory. Not caring what happened to him now. He'd got rid of Potter. That was all that mattered.

The little fuck had paid the ultimate price for pushing a Malfoy to his limit.

*~*~*

Wow, I feel much better now. Before anyone asks, 'why didn't he just shoot him?' hello! this is england, we don't have guns sat on shelves collecting dust.. and I thought a good ol' dagger was more romantic combined with the fact I've just read Macbeth, lots of daggers in that, lol, and I wanted to make Harry suffer.

REVIEW me please people. Tell me whether this is a wonderous masterpiece ... or the insane ramblings of a pissed off England fan? Or both.

If you didn't like this, don't bother flaming cuz I'll just use it to lower heating bills. Just pray that England don't loose at football again any time soon ... and pray that Manchester United beat Arsenal in the FA Cup or death with be paying Mister Potter another visit, mwahahahahahaha!

ms.d

x

ps. if there is one, yes just one gloating australian in the reviews ... I'll will be a very pissed off bunny and shall not be held responsible for my actions. I am very touchy when we play against a nation whom I love really but just happen to score one, or three, more goals than they should. America feel very glad that you guys are crap at football/soccer. ^-^