Note: A short one-shot i wrote when I should have been working on my multi-chaper fic "All Roads Lead to Rome", but this got in the way. Dame inspiration, you have no control over it whatsoever. Well, I´ll just try and complite chapter 4 now insted, wish me luck! If you like this, please let me know and leave a comment. :D I can take critics, but no flaming. Thank you.^^
One lie
Pressure, what an awful word. Perfection, dose it even exist? Draco had brought the best equipment, trained and studied as often as time would allow him, yet he failed. His Nimbus 2001 lay on his bed and the paper with his grades was on top of it. Draco stared down at them. They were useless, completely useless. His effort meant nothing. His second year had turned out to be worse than his first.
Someone knocked at his bedroom's door and Draco hardly noticed it.
"Can I come in?" his mother asked calmly.
He didn't utter a single word when she opened the door and went inside. He continued to stare down at the items on his bed. Why did she have to be so caring?
Draco began to shiver slightly.
"Go away," he said in a low whisper, his inner pressure growing by the second.
Narcissa walked up to him and put one hand on his shoulder. The act was meant to bring comfort, yet it brought him nothing but guilt.
"Leave," Draco said in a darker tone of voice. Couldn't she just give up, give up on him?
"Not unless you tell me what's bothering you."
She wouldn't go anywhere without an explanation. Draco looked away when she tried to get eye contact with him. He didn't like the hotness burning beneath his eyelids.
"Nothing's wrong," he lied.
Narcissa didn't speak and Draco hoped the silence would last.
"Don't give me that. I can see you're upset. Please tell me why."
What was wrong? Everything was bloody wrong!
Draco swept away her hand with his own aggressively.
"Are you deaf? Leave me alone, I said! " he shouted and faced her, boiling inside, but not out of anger.
Narcissa wore a shocked facial expression and she took one small step backwards. Draco lowered his gaze, ashamed and angry with himself.
"Just leave, please." he pleaded quietly and heard his own voice break. He turned around, pushed away his broomstick and lay down onto his bed, facing the wall. Draco didn't want her to leave, not really, but it would be better if she did. He closed his eyes and fought against the tears he knew would fall.
The words his father had bellowed straight to his face were still clear in his mind. They burned like mental torture; he would rather suffer under the Cruciatus curse. Physical pain always healed and went away quickly, while psychological suffering was a lot harder to deal with.
Draco heard his mother walk towards him and she sat down beside him. She did not speak, just sat there and tried to comfort him with her presence and touch. He tried to suppress his shocking sobs and cursed himself for letting the tears fall.
"Why am I so utterly useless?" He asked with a unsteady voice.
"You are not, love. What makes you believe such a thing?"
Couldn't she stop calling him Love? There was nothing loveable about him.
"Yes, I am. I'm a pathetic, good for nothing idiot."
It became impossible to hold back the flood of tears and he began to shake all over. His mother said something, but her voice was drowned by his own thoughts. Thoughts he spoke out loud for the world to hear. Thank God his mother was the only one there to listen.
"A coward, can't do anything right, will never be good enough, nothing but a waste of money, just… Just never enough…" His voice rose and fell between the sound of a whisper and angry hissing. "I hate them, all of them, curse them! I'll show them. Blast Potter and his perfection, Granger and her cleverness, Weasley and his blind ignorance. I hate them!"
"It will be all right, I'm here." She whispered, the sound of her voice was enough to somewhat calm him this time. Maybe she wouldn't crave an explanation? Maybe she understood?
His father had told him everything he already knew to be true. Every word still washed over him like a tidal wave. They were nothing but truth. It was what everyone thought about him at school too, he knew. He had no friends, no allies, and his schoolmates were nothing more than subjects, tools to be used. Why did his mother stand by him? Why didn't she turn away like everyone else did? He felt guilty for every single failure, guilty for pushing her away, when all she wanted was to be there for him.
"Don't leave. Please, stay." Draco whispered, too drained to continue crying. His body shook in dry sobs and his throat felt sore.
"I'm not going anywhere."
Draco relaxed slightly when his mother lay down next to him, held him close in a warm and comforting embrace. He wanted to thank her, but didn't have the strength to do so. The silence held neither tension nor discomfort, just silence. Draco's breathing became calmer as he felt himself relax fully. It had been a long day and tomorrow felt far away, out of reach. He wanted to stay here, live this lie and never wake up.
Maybe Draco wasn't completely alone.
He had one ally, but he was afraid, terrified that she would disappear. Draco could ignore the truth if he was allowed to believe this one lie.
