A/N: I don't usually do a lot of poetry, but this was a literature poem I wrote for my creative writing class and seeing as I got it back with a good grade, and I like it, now you all have to deal with it because I want to post it so I'm going to. :P Reviews are appreciated!

Disclaimer: I don't own Draco Malfoy. His father will hear of this. xD I also don't own the Harry Potter series or anything associated with it.

He never knew any better.

Taught from the moment he was old enough,

Enough to obey-

Not to comprehend.

A child of darkness who never knew light.

Who hated who he was commanded to.

Who did as he was told.

Sixteen years, they gave him.

No adult by anyone's standards.

Sixteen years before they branded him,

Marked him as their own.

It was agony.

Screams echo even now in his mind.

A snake stares back at him-

Gruesome. Ugly.

He regrets it, but there's no turning back.

Obeying orders is what he is good at,

What he's done since birth,

And this is no exception to the rule.

DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM

An impossible task.

That's what they've given him.

By his second attempt, he's sure-

It cannot be done.

Forehead pressed to the glass,

Blissfully cool on hot skin;

Tears are something to be ashamed of

And so he is ashamed.

The days drag by and the snake writhes.

It hisses and glares from his arm.

Sickened, he tugs at his hair and tears his eyes away.

Frustration fills him up,

Overflows.

Time goes on and he grows paler.

No food passes his lips.

Sleep is elusive.

He must complete the task soon-

Time is running out.

It's during these days, the dreary ones,

His sleep deprived mind wanders.

It turns corners in his head,

Takes detours it never has before.

What is light, exactly?

And what is darkness

Except the absence of light?

He doesn't know anymore.

Surely light cannot be a boy with a scar,

Wand drawn, uncertain and grim.

He looks like Draco does, his reflection in the mirror.

Surely light is not this agony.

Mesmerized, he stares down, watching.

A crimson stain spreads around him.

This cannot be light.

Or can it? Everyone seems to think so.

His dizzy mind ponders this,

Even as the blood leaves his body.

Later he will be back in working order.

Obsessing and rubbing his weary eyes,

Desperate to prove himself,

Desperate to protect the only people he loves.

Now, though, thoughts are muddled.

At the same time, clearer than they've ever been.

Is he dying? Well,

The boy with the scar is shouting.

So maybe he is.

Sixteen. He's only sixteen.

If he's dying, then where is he going?

What has he done in this short lifetime?

Nothing but bad deeds, it seems.

At least, that's all he can remember.

Once again he mulls over the issue of the light and the dark.

According to everyone else, this is the light.

This messy haired boy, anxious and staring down at him.

And he, Draco, he is the dark.

Bleeding on the bathroom floor.

In this moment, he doesn't see the line.

What really separates them?

Where is this fabled animosity-

Where has it gone?

If he's honest, he doesn't feel like darkness.

He just feels scared.

Scared for his family, himself.

The other boy doesn't look light, either.

Green eyes wide and terrified.

He has people to protect, too,

And they don't care about HIS safety.

Everyone. Harry must protect everyone.

Draco feels a little better about his situation.

DMDMDMDMDMDMDMDM

They could have been friends.

Before his eyes, the world blurs,

Tilting on it's axis,

And all he's thinking about is

A handshake that never happened.

The choice he never made.

The fate forced upon him.

The light and the dark-

None of it is fair.

He's sixteen and he might be dying.

Dying for a cause he never really supported,

Never even understood.

He almost wants to laugh out loud.

Say, "This is ridiculous!"

And then to break down crying.

Because he never got to live.

A cooling touch soothes his wounds.

But his eyes are sealed shut.

Whoever it is, he will thank them later.

After he sleeps.

After he's banished these traitorous thoughts.

When he awakes he will plan anew.

He must have his wits about him.

These thoughts here, they will never help him serve his Lord.

And that is what he has been taught to do.

He is a child, born and raised in darkness.

To step into the light now?

That could blind him.

It's not a chance he's willing to take.