If I find my way through the darkest of days,
Will I laugh about the things that kept me awake?
But if my greatest fear paints itself so crystal clear,
Will I run away or will I hide?
Draco Malfoy was a Death Eater. He didn't wan to be one, it was in a-sortment of words, forced apon him. He was scared of all the things that the others could do to him. This is what kept him awake at night. Fearing that if the other Death Eaters find out he was a spy for the Order Of The Pheonix, that they would kill him. everytime the day after, he would laugh about it all, saying he was stupid to think such things. He didn't know that Voldemort knew of his fears. What he did know was that, Voldemort had plans to use this against him. The question was would he run away from it all. . . Hide? Or would he be brave and fight?
And if I don't come home tonight,
Just know I tried my best to fight.
Please don't think I plan to lose to the night.
And curse the moon so dull and bright,
My heavy soul can't stand the light.
It burns me straight to the bones, my bones
Spells were flying back and forth from each side. They both had resons to fight, but one side was stronger then the other. Draco watched as a brilliant green light flew from the end of a Death Eaters wand and hit a stunned Neville Longbottom in the chest. Draco looked up at the sky. The moon was full, but it held an erie feeling, like it was moking, yet encouraging him to go on. Suddenly, he was hit in the arm by the crucio curse. The pain was unlike any other. The pain went all the way down to his bones and he felt as it he was being ste on fire. He felt as if he had lost. . .
In the desert sun I watched my nerves come undone.
One by one my strings they tangled into knots.
And ever since that day, deep in Santa Fe.
I've learned to hate myself for giving everything away.
Draco Malfoy sat with his good arm draped over his new girlfriend, hermione Granger's , shoulder. It had only been two weeks after the war and Draco's arm was still healing from the spell that had hit him during the fight. He looked up at the blazing sun. The sun was just at it's highest point , looking much like the moon on the day of The Great War. It was round, it gave off light, but it seemed to have a more comforting effect. His Mother had alway given him comfort when needed. For the fist time since The Great War, Draco Malfoy rembered how he had watched his Mother die in pain. He hated himself for letting her slip away, but what is done is done. . .
And if I don't come home tonight,
Just know I tried my best to fight.
Please don't think I plan to lose to the night.
And curse the moon so dull and bright,
My heavy soul can't stand the light.
It burns me straight to the bones, my bones
Draco lifted a hand of dirt off the the damp, muddy pile and threw it into the shallow grave of his fellow classmates. He felt and arm being put around his waist and looked over at his new wife and son. Alexander Malfoy was craddeled in the new Hermione Malfoy's arms. with tears in both of their eyes they left the grave. Remebering how hate could cause so much choas.
People are all the same. Any skin type any religion, we are still people. We have the right to be treated as such! Do not jude one by what they look like, judge one with how their heart acts. . .
- Sara K.
(XMarshallXMathersXManiacX)
