Draco

Slytherin dorms

Now.

That's what the note says. I fight the urge to throw up. I know that writing. Oh god.

Father. I arrange my face into an extremely false sense of composure and glance around at Harry. He's watching me closely. After all, how can he not watch me, after I begged him to let me kill myself last night?

"I have to use the loo." I say, starting to get up. As expected, Harry moves to follow me.

"I'll come with you." I pull together every inch of self control I have.

"I want some privacy," I say, creating a voice designed to sound slightly prideful and a little humiliated. Inwardly, I'm silently begging him to follow me. This may be the last day of my life, no scratch that, this is the last day of my life. If father doesn't kill me, I will. I promise.

So naturally, it makes sense that I get an overwhelming urge to pull Harry to me and kiss him for the last time. But I can't, because he'll know something's wrong. So instead, I fight the tears and pretend that nothing's wrong. I pretend that this isn't the last time I'll ever see him.

The entire way down to the dungeons, I make the frivolous attempt to calm myself down.

Just do this one last time.

One last time.

You can die tonight, but don't cry. For god's sake don't cry.

My lip trembles. It's not working...

I stop for a moment and lean against a wall. Breathe in. Out. In. Out. I pull in all the energy I have left to conjure the cold mask that I wore for years. But Harry shattered that mask. And now, when I need it most, I can't get it back.

No.

That's rubbish. I have to get it back. I have to. I did this for years. Come on Draco. One last time. You can do this...

But the truth is... I don't know if I can. But I've run out of time. I have to get there now, because if I'm late, father will make it even worse.

When I walk into my dorm, father is sitting on my bed. My stomach drops to my fight and I'm suddenly torn between the urge to throw up, run away, or just to pull out my knife and slit my throat right here.

I want to die.

"You've been crying." Father notes with disgust the moment I walk in. I freeze by the door, terrified of getting any closer. Though I should know better by now, I decide my best option is to lie.

"I haven't father." I say coldly, surprised when my voice doesn't tremble, considering the fact that the rest of me convulsing. Father's eyes glare at me, and I find myself wishing that it was the glare of a basilisk instead.

"Don't lie to me, Draco." His voice is ice, and full of hatred. I almost start to cry as I note that a father is supposed to love his son. I've known nothing but hatred all my life... "Come here, boy." He demands, and reluctantly, and terrified I step tentatively toward my father. "Closer!" He snaps. I inch forward.

Father grabs my by arms, a bit above the elbows, and I feel bruises form to the shape of his fingers. I try not to wince with the pain as he moves his face an inch from my own and whispers, deadly low, in a threatening tone that makes me shiver.

"What have I been telling you from the moment you were born, Draco?" I fight as hard as I can not to draw away from him.

"A Malfoy never cries." This time my voice does tremble. I can't keep my cool when he's this close...

"Then tell me, Draco," his voice becomes even more menacing, "why I received a letter from dear old Severus explaining that he found you crying on the astronomy tower with none other than Harry Potter."

"I-I" I stammer. Father doesn't loosen his grip on my arms.

"You weren't planning on killing yourself I hope?" He raises his eyebrows. I don't answer. Suddenly he releases my left arm and brings his hand back to slap me so hard across the face that if he handing still been holding my other arm, I would have toppled to the ground. His voice becomes a growl.

"You should know better than to sink so such weakness, Draco." He shoves me backwards and I fall to the ground. My left wrist protests in searing pain as I try to brace myself. Father towers over me. His voice is deadly soft again.

"What was Harry Potter doing on the tower with you?" I'm silent, trying to decide how to answer. Father is impatient. He kicks me hard in the side, I groan and shout out,

"He was trying to stop me!" He kicks me again and growls,

"DON'T LIE TO ME! Harry Potter hates you." The words ring through my ears and echo all the way down to my heart. "Why would he take the time to come and stop you? He'd tell you to jump!" It takes every ounce of control I have to stop from bursting into tears.

"No." I whimper. "No... he doesn't hate me." I'm trying to convince it to myself. "He came to stop me..." Father grabs my hand and yanks me up, and it feels like my shoulder's been dislocated. He throws my across the room and my head smacks on the wooden post of the bed.

"There's one way to find that out..." He says, his eyes narrowing. I swallow hard.

Block your mind.

Come on, Draco, block your mind.

"Ligilimens!"

My past rushes to my mind, playing behind my eyes in a sequence of face moving images.

The boggart.

Harry saving me from the boggart.

My cuts.

My crying.

Harry.

Harry.

Harry.

Suddenly father pulls out of my mind. I've never seen him look so disgusted, or more furious.

"What is this?!" He shouts. "I WILL NOT ALLOW A SON OF MINE TO BE A QUEER!" I say nothing, but back slowly away from him. I glance down at the wrist I injured a moment ago. I think it's swollen. Big mistake. Father glides over and grabs my wrists. Hard. I wince as his touch tears at my lacerations. He tugs up my sleeves. He stares at my cuts for a moment and slaps me again hard.

"You know what's pathetic?" He spits. "That you actually believed he loved you." His voice becomes soft. He strokes my bruising cheek, and speaks in a calm gentle, condescending voice. Oh god.... I can't take this. I can handle the beatings.

I can't take this.

"Why would he love someone like you, Draco? He's Harry Potter. He can have any girl he wants. So why would he have some faggot like you?" I don't answer. I bite on my lip and try not to cry. Father becomes violent again. He hits me so hard my ears ring.

"ANSWER ME!" I flinch away.

"He wouldn't." I whisper. My voice breaks and fathers tone becomes gentle again. I'd rather him yell at me...

"Now, now, dear boy. Don't cry. You know how... unfortunate... that would be for you." I take a deep breath. I've got to calm down.

"He doesn't love you, Draco." He croons. "He wanted to get to the dark lord." He hits me again. "And you almost let him."

"I'm sorry, father." I croak. He has murder in his eyes. I hope he kills me. He seems to understand what I'm thinking.

"No, no. I'm not going to kill you." He says. "That'd be too nice. And you need to understand. No one will ever love you, Draco. No one. Potter stopped you because of his hero complex. He doesn't care about you. If he did, he would have let you die."

"No!" I shout, and to my absolute horror, I start crying. "No, no, no! He has to love me, he has to! He saved me! He let me cry! He loves me!" No matter how much I say it, I don't know if I believe it. And what's worse, there are sobs wrenching themselves from my body. "HE'S THE ONLY REASON I'M STILL ALIVE!" I yell. "I NEED HIM!"

Father hits me again, and this time, his fist makes contact with my nose. I feel it break and blood starts gushing down in to my mouth. He keeps hitting me. My head, my stomach.

I collapse to the ground, still sobbing and without enough energy to stand.

"DON'T YOU DARE ARGUE WITH ME, BOY!" He leans over me, smirking, as I lie on the ground, begging any power who will hear me to let me die. "If he loves you," he whispers, with a sick, satisfied smile, "then where is he?"

I know, I know. Only Draco's POV. Next chapter up soon. Don't hate me too much for making you wait.