DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.
Tick tock.
Draco knew time was running out.
I'm gonna get you.
That voice was everywhere, in places he didn't even expect. He knew that voice was going to be the death of him.
Draco was unfortunately dashing down a completely black and endless hallway. He was furiously turning his head side to side and stopping to see if anything was following him.
He kept running, but out of nowhere, a long row of mirrors appeared beside him. Before he could react, a mirror formed in front of him, shocking him and making him raised up his arms to protect his head as he crashed into the mirror, and he fell onto his arms. The debris fell on him like snow. He was fine, but his arms were cut and bloody.
I'm closer. The voice taunted, pressuring Draco to the extreme.
Draco got up, but his whole body was in pain as he stumbled a few times. He gazed up, and the mirror that he broke was intact, like he never hit it. Draco stared at the image in the reflector, seeing exactly what he saw in his head. A young boy with greasy platinum blond hair, lifeless gray eyes, dirty skin and tattered robes.
As he was captivated by what he saw, the other mirrors were changing into pictures, scenes from his life. His attention averted to the flashbacks, and saw many things in his past.
One was depicting Draco as a child, being told by his Death Eater father what was right and wrong in the world, and frowned as the younger Draco soaked it all in euphorically, nodding after every sentence like a zombie.
In another scene, Draco was teasing Potter, Weasley and Granger for anything he could get his greasy hands on, whatever could possibly bring down the "Golden Trio."
Staring at each, Draco knew that those were what he was, and he didn't feel bad for teasing anyone, or being mean or anything. He knew that there was a reason for it all, that something inside him was making him do it, something eating away at his core, like a disease that didn't have a fucking name.
Is that so?
He looked back to the mirror. The image in it changed from a poor boy to a handsome, shaggy blond haired boy with longer bangs. It smiled devilishly at him, and Draco knew he was not doing that physically, and he needed to run.
He broke into a sprint, but his mirror Draco Malfoy was too fast for him. It leaped out of it's flat prison and pinned Draco to the floor; Draco's head pounding with pain as it hit the hard floor.
"I'm here..." Draco Malfoy whispered in his ear. "You're never going to make it out alive."
Draco winced at his twin's forced determination, like he knew Draco had to die.
"Any last words." Draco Malfoy hissed, his snake shaped tongue squirming out of his mouth and tracing a light path on the outer shell of Draco's left ear, where blood started pouring out.
"Yeah." Draco's lungs were giving out, rasping his voice. "Fuck you." Both him and Draco Malfoy smirked.
Draco knew this day would come, that he would get killed by himself.
He knew that he may have had enemies, but Draco Malfoy was his worst enemy.
He was his own enemy.
AN: This story was inspired by the song "The Enemy" by Papa Roach.