He floated among them like a ghost. In fact, he was a ghost. It was as if he was transparent, everyone looked through him. They pretended that he didn't exist. Or maybe it wasn't pretending. Maybe he really didn't exist anymore. That would be much easier. Easier than returning to a world where he didn't belong, a world where he didn't have a purpose anymore. He wondered if the death was painful. If it was, he knew he had deserved it. The faces of the poor souls who had ever had the misfortune of crossing him swam in front of his eyes.

He was detached from the rest of them. An invisible barrier kept him at bay. He looked at their faces, faces of love and compassion. All of the embracing was too much for him. He felt as if he shouldn't be watching such private moments. Love was such a strange thing. He asked himself if he had ever been loved. He thought deeply. His mother loved him, he knew this for sure. His father? His father loved him in another way. Orders were his way of showing that he loved him. He didn't mind. His relationship with his father wasn't normal, obviously, but he could pretend it was.

He kept moving, his destination unknown. For everyone else, this final end was a new beginning. But for him, it really was the end. The end of a legacy. The end of all that he knew and believed. He felt like a newborn baby; brought into an unfamiliar world. He laughed, bitterly. If only things worked out that way. To be able to leave behind his past as if it never happened. . .it was a luxury that he'd been denied. Oh sure, they granted him the gift of solitude. But he knew it was only temporary. That was all that they would give him. Then he would become an outcast, a leper.

He was in a familiar place. Finally, he didn't have to see the one thing that he didn't have a family. His "family" was missing all of the love and affection that a real family has. Before, he had always thought he had it all. That was a delusion. In reality, he had nothing. Everything that actually mattered in the world was too good, too precious for him to have. Love, a family, a sense of belonging, they were all things that were foreign to him. Was it too much to want it all? Or did such amazing things require sacrifice? The real question is, would he do it? Give up everything he currently knew for love? Some would say that even if he did give it all up, he didn't deserve it. He wrestled with the thought. But couldn't he change? Would they begrudge him just one more chance? A chance to redeem himself. All he needed was a chance. . .

He found himself in front of a door. Oh the irony. In a sense, you could say he was home, where it all began. He twisted the knob on the door and slowly walked in. He took in the comforting feeling that came with the familiarity of the room. He walked slowly, but deliberately. Now he knew what he had come here for. He moved towards the ornately decorated mirror, an heirloom of the family. He stood in front of the mirror, but refused to look at his reflection. Afraid of what he would see. He forced himself to do it. Slowly, he lifted his head. Slowly, until he finally met the eyes of the horror before him. What looked to be hair, but matted in blood, stood up in all directions on the crown of his head. He gasped in horror. He lifted is arms, the creature did the same. His hands were also blood stained. He felt the tears spill onto his cheeks. He fell to his knees, and cried. He cried for the end of life cut too short. He cried for his innocence. And finally, he cried for mercy. He begged to what ever higher power there was above to forgive him.

Once again, he looked into the mirror. The monster was on his knees as well. His eyes bloody red. The sight was horrific and ugly. But it was the truth, he could not deny that. The mirror reflected what he had become over the years, an ugly demon.

The boy whispered, "It- it can't be. I refuse to be a monster anymore."

He groped for something, anything. His bloody hand enclosed around a cold, hard object. He lifted the object, and with all of his strength, frustration, and desperation to be rid of this demon, he hurled the object at his reflection. The mirror shattered instantly. Glittering pieces of glassed rained on him.

And once again, Draco Malfoy cried. He cried for himself. He cried for his past, his present, and his future.

THE END