AN: So I hope you enjoy, my inspiration came from the wonderful writer and artist Brian Andreas, check out his stuff at storyland dot com. It's named after the song 'Helplessness Blues' by Fleet Foxes. Read, relax, and review!
"If I know only one thing, it's that everything that I see
Of the world outside is so inconceivable often I barely can speak
Yeah I'm tongue-tied and dizzy and I can't keep it to myself
What good is it to sing helplessness blues, why should I wait for anyone else?" -Fleet Foxes
Draco Malfoy was an introvert. There was really no other way of putting it. Maybe that was why he was so popular. Someone that good-looking, rich, and important who naturally seemed not to need other people was bound to be put on a pedestal by others who were attracted to his air of confidence and nonchalance. But popular or not, Draco always felt alone, on the inside. Whether on a pedestal or in the slums of popularity, there is always a slight detachment from the rest of the population, and Draco was no exception to this rule. So he learned to be reliant on no one but himself. He loved his family dearly, though lately he had begun to wonder why. Things at home were getting tense, with the Dark Lord living in his home his father was a wreck and his mother's nerves were taught, he'd been trying to avoid going home at all costs but every day that passed was another failure. If he didn't return over Christmas break the Dark Lord would think he was avoiding him (which would have been true) and his family's tenuous position would be put in even more risk. So he continued to try to think of excuses to no avail, wrestling with his thoughts alone with his friends none the wiser.
Eventually though, Draco was forced to return home after all. And it had been even worse of a nightmare than he had imagined it would be. Back at school he had drawn even further into his shell and it was becoming apparent to his peers. Though still revered, he was falling from his pedestal to the point where he was barely noticed at all, and honestly, that was quite alright with him. After that break, he felt as if he didn't deserve any human contact at all, let alone kindness. It was with that thought that Draco went through school with; to all outward appearances he was basically a zombie.
As a prefect he wandered the halls aimlessly for rounds, though he hardly spoke a word. Younger students were so frightened of him he didn't even need to open his mouth before they ran in terror. His retreat into silence was just as scary to some students as his bullying was.
After a few weeks of this, Hermione Granger began to get annoyed. The prefects' schedule has usually ended up leaving Hermione and Draco together, much to the amusement of the other prefects and the chagrin of Hermione and Draco and she had gotten used to tuning his incessant chattering out so that no matter how hard he pushed her buttons she just wouldn't notice. After the break, Hermione had steeled herself for more insults, but Draco was silent. At first, she wondered if he was tired of being ignored and had simply given up, but he didn't even insult the first year Hufflepuff they had found stuck in the sinking step. The poor boy had been stuck there nearly all day, had basically wet himself, and Draco had said nothing. It didn't even seem as if Draco had actually seen the boy there, or noticed as Hermione struggled to pull him out until she had shrieked at him to help. He said nothing of her raising his voice at him and had simply yanked the sniveling and smelly eleven year old out and stepped back, retreating into his mind once more.
Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. It had been two months of biweekly silence, not to mention the classes they had together where he barely seemed to be doing the minimum amount of work required to pass. After rounds one Friday night they headed back to the prefects' cramped office to sign themselves out of their duties. Hermione had been fighting the urge to say something all night but she couldn't help herself when they stood in the room, Hermione tapping her foot anxiously as Draco search through the drawers trying to find the sign in parchment, and then finally a quill. He did it all so slowly and effortlessly it was obvious he was paying little if any attention to the simple task at hand.
"What is wrong with you?" She finally burst out, somewhat surprised but proud of herself for actually finally confronting the issue. Was it even an issue though? He was just being quiet, that in itself wasn't a problem but his incessant silence had been grating unpleasantly on her nerves.
He didn't look up at first, if it was even possible he just slowed even more until finally he came to a stop, his hands still in the drawer, his head bent downwards.
"What?" he finally said, his voice quiet and unsteady as if from disuse. Had he really spoken to no one for two months? She'd thought he was just quiet, not completely withholding speech from everyone.
"You've been silent as the grave for months, it's completely unlike you, and honestly, it's more annoying than your insults. So what's wrong with you?"
She thought she saw a familiar looking smirk ghost over his face for half a second but she blinked and it was gone, the same stony expression he had been wearing since break on his face, his eyes a little wider and staring blankly at her. But something about his gaze let her know that he was really looking at her, not just politely facing her.
"It's nothing, Granger. I'm touched by your concern, but we're not exactly bosom buddies; I'm not likely to open up to you now, am I?"
She glared, hands on her hips. "No, but apparently this is the first time you've spoken in two months so the fact that you're even speaking to me calmly tells me something's the matter."
He opened his mouth to speak and quickly shut it. Apparently lack of conversation had left his wit impaired and he had no retort.
"Whatever, Malfoy. Just grab the quill and let's go, shall we?" And with that she snatched the quill he had just found out of his hand, signed the sheet and swept up her belongings before flouncing out of the room. Draco was left standing staring at her, quite confused.
How was it that Granger, someone who basically hated his guts, had been the first person to ask him if something was wrong? Out of all the people that considered themselves his friends, it was a girl who hated him who had spoken to him directly about the issue first.
His silent behavior went on for another month though, and spring was beginning to stir in the air, making students restless and much more apt to explore (or wander aimlessly as was the case with most of the Hufflepuffs who claimed to be trying to find treasure or secrets throughout the castle, though the prefects always seemed to be finding more lost Hufflepuffs than Hufflepuffs were finding hidden treasure).
One March night seemed relatively quiet. Hermione and Draco had only found one student out of bed and had sent her off without trouble. The air was cool but not unpleasant as they ambled through the halls and Hermione was in a fairly good mood, if only she could forget how annoyed she was with Malfoy's persistent silence. So it was to her surprise when he spoke.
"I haven't been talking to anyone." His voice sounded scratchy and unused, but she got the feeling he'd practiced saying that out loud to avoid that so she tried not to react to the noise and just the message, which she scoffed at.
"What a surprise. Three months without speaking seems a little harsh, care to divulge why?" She asked, without expecting any kind of response at all. He seemed to only speak in one liners if at all and she thought that was his speech for the night since she wanted personal information that Malfoy, quiet or bullying was unlikely to share with her.
But he answered.
"You won't like the why." He whispered, almost to himself, but the volume was enough that she heard it clearly.
A shot of sympathy went through her. She may not like this boy but clearly something was bothering him, and though she may not like him, far be it from her to be rude to a fellow prefect in need. Even if he was a Malfoy…well, maybe she'd be cautious.
"Clearly whatever it is has deeply disturbed you, so try me. We'll say it's all hypothetical, alright?"
He nodded, and for the first time in three months, Hermione saw emotion flooding his face. It was one she'd never seen grace Malfoy's face, and she felt that before this year he probably had never felt it so deeply, but it did not look foreign on him. Clearly the stoniness he was portraying crumbled when he was alone and gave way to what he was showing her; deep remorse, an intense self-disgust, and a thorough and biting sadness. She stopped walking, completely surprised and unsure of herself or how to proceed. He was actually opening up to her. This was too real to be a lie or trick. She steeled herself, she was a Gryfindor, she could do this. She nodded encouragingly to him.
He turned to face her but his head was bent slightly down and his eyes looked anywhere but at her as he began.
"I know that you're the last person I should admit this to, but honestly, I think I'm going crazy inside. I don't know what to do with myself, I don't…I just don't know. Over break…my family, well you know who they're involved with there's no denying it…They forced me to do…"he paused, inhaling deeply, "Something unspeakable, something disgusting. I hate myself, you have to know, I know everything I may have seemed but I've never had to act…been forced to commit…you have to know this isn't me. I don't do this. I've been trying to punish myself since it happened. My mother had to put a charm on me that wouldn't allow me to harm myself…that sounds terrible…I can't explain."
He looked directly at her now, and she could see the turmoil inside of him, see the tears threatening to spill out as he said, "You think you hate me now, but if you knew what I'd done, you'd probably curse me into oblivion, and maybe that's why I want to tell you, because I want you to, I deserve it." He looked down again.
She was taken aback. Her eyes were wide and she was slightly frightened, not for her life, but what was going on within this boy was far out of her reach. Obviously he was dealing with something huge and how could she help him? She was just a student, a teenager, she had no experience with emotional issues this deep. She knew she owed it to him to help, he was confiding in her first after all, and she felt deep sympathy for him, but overall she felt confusion.
"But…Malfoy…Draco, what did you do?"
He looked back at her and his tone was dead and icy sounding.
"I murdered a Muggle."
She took a step backwards involuntarily and he hung his head in shame, the stoniness vanishing to reveal such pain and she stopped moving.
"Oh, Malfoy…"
And to his surprise as well as hers, she lunged forward and pulled him into a tight hug, and he froze for a second before melting into the embrace as the tears that had been threatening to fall finally did as he buried his face into her wild brown locks, trying to hide his shame in them.
He was muttering incomprehensibly but Hermione began to decipher his words.
"I…I watched, it was like I wasn't in my own body, like I was watching it all from outside in slow motion…the curse leaving my wand…the green light hitting him as he was begging me not to, it was like a bright light shined on him and then he stopped begging me and all the noise in the world seemed farther away…so far away and I knew, I knew I could never ever do something like that again. That'd I'd been wrong…so wrong…the whole time and you and Potter and Weasley and Dumbledore, you were right and I'd been wrong. And then the noise came back but all I could hear was the silence where his voice had been…" he sniffled like a child, "I've been buying Muggle newspapers, watching the investigation going on trying to find his…murderer…his…me… and how people remember him. And he was a good man and I'm not. If I was gone no one would remember me that way. He has friends…and f-family that love him…and he made a difference in the world, left a good mark,"
Hermione stayed silent this time as he blathered on.
"I keep…trying to find a way to fix things…but there's nothing…nothing, no way to do right. I'm a lost cause. So I've been silent because I don't deserve…and he'll always be silent now… There's nothing I can do in the world…nothing to fix this."
He was silent again but his tears continued to stream.
Hermione pulled away slightly to look into his face.
"There's nothing out there to find. You're looking for forgiveness and it'll only come from within. It all seems so bleak and worthless because you're looking out there for something that you can only find inside yourself. You have to forgive yourself."
He looked at her.
"Forgive myself? How could I ever do that? I took an innocent man's life to save my own. And my life is nothing compared to his. It was no fair trade. I don't deserve to forgive myself. I don't deserve this,"
He stepped away from her and wiped his face off, his stony mask slowly sliding back into place.
"Malfoy…Draco, you can make up for it. Let's go talk to Dumbledore, he can protect you. You can go into hiding…or…or be a spy. You can be better, make this something to grow from so you don't waste away. Come on, let's go right now,"
She reached her hand out to grab his but he snatched it away in disgust.
"Protect me? Make my life easier, huh? Make myself better? Make myself feel better?" He sneered at her.
"I don't deserve any of that. This was a mistake. Don't look at me with that pity, Granger. I killed someone like you. You should hate me. Just go back to hating me and I'll go back to being silent. Or if it's easier for you I can go back to insulting your mangy hair and muddied blood."
She tried to shove the hurt that shocked through her down but she was sure he saw it as he turned abruptly and stalked off leaving her in the hall way, her mouth slightly open in shock and confusion as tears silently began to stream down her face.
That was the last time Hermione, or anyone else saw Draco. A huge search went up for him the next day, he had disappeared from school. His broom and a bag and a few of his clothes were gone and it was assumed he had run away. During the war she assumed she'd see him fighting with the Death Eaters, his own sick way of 'punishing' himself, turning himself into a monster, but she never did. She never heard the Death Eaters mention him and when they were all rounded up at the end of everything he wasn't among them and the only thing the remaining Death Eaters had to say about him was that he was a traitor, a defector, who they had thought the Order had been protecting.
Almost a decade later while walking through Muggle London, on her way to meet her mother, father, and husband for dinner she thought she saw a gleam of white blond hair, dirty but familiar, flash down an alley on the other side of the road. Risking getting run over by cars, she ran across the street in her heels, trying to follow the hair as it disappeared around a corner in the windy alley. She ran down the way and right as she rounded a corner fifteen meters ahead she saw the blond hair turn and look at her and she stopped, in shock. She only saw a flash of his face before he disappeared through another alley. It looked like Draco Malfoy, but much different. Gaunt and dirty, hollowed, and empty inside, he looked decades older than she knew him to be, maybe she was wrong, maybe it wasn't him, but the image of the tortured man would continue to haunt her for the rest of her happy life.