Sometimes love is not enough and the road gets tough. I don't know why…Come take a walk on the wild side…Choose your last words. This is the last time 'cause you and I, we were born to die…we were born to die.
Lana Del Rey
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Draco walked for over an hour in the darkness until his feet were sore from the pace. He didn't have a destination and had no idea where he would go.
Not that he cared. He just needed to be away from her, as far away as he could possibly take himself.
At this point in time, Draco really didn't have any desire to finish the program. Not to say that he wanted to move to a jail cell in Azkaban either. In truth, he had changed a great deal and those inner changes made it so that he didn't have much desire to go back home even if he had the option.
What he desired was the ability to go back in time, to the night of the anniversary and make a different choice. If he could do it over again, he would have been more careful about his actions. He resented getting caught because he had allowed himself to be vulnerable. It was possible that if he had the opportunity to do it over, he might have left her alone all together. He couldn't even remember the name of the muggle girl he had traumatized anymore, it felt like he'd lost his freedom years ago and he was thinking back on a former life.
He was angry with himself for allowing himself to be placed in this position but he was far more furious with Hermione. She had tricked him on such a deep and personal level, she had manipulated his heart, his mind, and his beliefs. He'd lost his entire foundation from this process and what for? For a lie.
He wanted so badly to hate her for this, and he even angrier with himself because he knew he couldn't. Realizing that he didn't hate Megan, he knew that he didn't really hate Hermione. It wasn't possible for him to truly hate her, which felt twisted to him considering all the years it had been so easy and natural to hate her.
Even in his present anger, he couldn't deny that she had been able to make him feel things he had never experienced before. She had brought him to an emotional level he never thought he'd be capable of experiencing. She brought him to a point in his life where anything was possible. He'd been ready to love a muggle woman, for Merlin's sake! If anything had been impossible for Draco Malfoy in the past, it would have been that. She'd changed him, and now he knew that the inspiration for his change was all false.
Draco felt like he didn't know who he was anymore. He was as lost on in the inside as he was in reality as he turned the corner to a bar packed street and realized he didn't know where he was.
The bars had just shut down and people began pouring out from both sides of the street to head back to their desolate lives.
Should he go back home, as well? Would she still be there, waiting to torment him further?
Draco wasn't even sure he knew how to get home, although he had a slight idea of the general direction.
Draco turned around sharply and accidently shouldered a short, drunken man as he staggered across his path, nearly knocking him down. The man was so intoxicated he barely had a sense of balance to begin with, so Draco didn't have any sympathy for him as he continued to walk past him in silence.
"'Da fuck man!?" The drunkard shouted as he regained his stability with a wobbly disposition.
Draco ignored him and continued to press forward. He wasn't apologizing to anyone. The world could fuck itself after everything it was putting him through that night.
The drunk was attempting to balance himself on a staircase railing as he called out to Draco in anger.
"Hey man! I'm talkin' to you! What's good?"
What kind of stupid muggle phrase was that? What's good? Bloody fuckin' nothing was good!
Draco turned the corner of the block and had to squint as his eyes adjusted to the sudden darkness. This alleyway contained no city lights to guide his path, just the illumination of light shining down from the window above me. It passed through a residential area of multistory flat-complexes. Nearly all the lights were off behind the towering windows as the time neared 3 am and most people were asleep, drunk or not.
Draco shoved his hands deep into his pocket and tried to shut out the breeze that was gusting down the tunnel of buildings. The chill felt good the first few times it had caressed him but as his rage started to subside the cold began to penetrate his skin. Draco was starting to become aware of how lost he really was as a shiver ran up his spine. He wished he thought to at the least grab a light jacket, but it wasn't like he'd planned this little stroll. He'd acted entirely on impulse.
The loud clanking sound of a rock being kicked against a trash bin broke the looming silence that had been his companion down this stretch of graveled pathway.
Draco's ears perked up at the interrupting echo. He could hear the sound of encroaching footsteps moving up the adjacent alley to where he was standing. Draco stopped walking and looked behind him. He was smack in the middle of the passage and didn't think he'd be able to avoid whoever was coming to join his little walk.
He sighed with irritability. He was not in the mood to be around anyone, especially in the awkwardness of an empty night.
"Hey there ya little fucker! Found ya!" Called out a slurred voice as it emerged from the dark alley.
Draco recognized the sound of the voice.
Moments after the rude greeting, the drunken man he had bumped into earlier stepped out into directly in front of him. Only, he wasn't alone anymore. Two other men, a significant height taller than the speaker, stood behind him.
The stench of booze was lifted off of them as it wafted towards Draco. He could distinguish the combination of whiskey and vodka reeking off of them. That, blended with the dirty street and drunken body order made for a repulsive scent.
Draco's instinct was to turn around and move as far from the trio as possible, but before he could recognize that he may be in danger they had already circled him like a pack of foul, intoxicated, laughing hyenas.
"Ya sure this little faggot wasn't try'na make a move on ya' when he knocked inta' ya Ben?" asked the tallest of the men. He had a mask of badly trimmed brown facial hair protruding from his sideburns, under his nose and descending down past his chin. If it hadn't been for the movement the unruly excuse of a beard bobbing up and down in the dim light provided, you'd hardly be able to tell he was the speaker. His lips were so thin and small that they seemed to suffocate under his hair. It was almost certain the rest of his gut-centered body was covered in a similar fashion of grease-laden hair. Only Merlin could know the last time the man had seen a razor, calm, or a bath.
The slightly shorter man standing to his right was the exact opposite. He looked like he lived in a weight lightning gym and didn't have strand of hair that could be seen. His head was neatly shaved and glimmering in the dim light. His thin eyebrows made his eyes look bulgy, and his lack of facial hair made his sadistic curl of a smile the most predominant feature on his face. The brutish looking man was cracking his knuckles repeatedly as he glared directly at Draco.
The shortest of the men, the one Draco had shouldered, seemed to be the most intoxicated of them all. His clothes fit loosely on his body, as if he'd recently lost too much weight or just couldn't figure out his size. Even in the darkness, the stains on his jeans were obvious. It looked like a combination of car and food grease. He was a messy, sloppy, angry little drunk.
"I don' kno' Larry, maybe he was try'in 'ta make a move on me. What you think Simon? He look like a pecker sucker ta you?"
Bald Simon's grotesque smile curled farther up his face. It seemed unnatural for a human mouth to form in such away and it made Draco uneasy. "Looks like one to me."
The tall, hair infested man had to lean over to look directly in Draco's eyes as he spoke. "Maybe we should bend you over and teach you a hard, rough, and deep lesson in manners, eh? You'd like that, wouldn't ya? I can't help but wonder if it's possible to fuck a fairy-boy straight, make it so you don' like men no more. What you think Ben?"
Draco froze as a wave of nausea dropped through him and threatened to make him vomit. Draco had feared a lot of things in his brief lifetime; being raped in a muggle alley had never been one of them.
"I dunno Larry, I think da' pretty boy would enjoy it too much, y'know? Might encourage him ta walk around like he owns da place a bit more 'dan he already does," answered the short drunken man.
"You think so, Ben?" replied Larry as the three men began to close in further on the little space Draco had left remaining between them. "Maybe we should ask him if he wants all three of us to fuck him, an' not jus' you."
They roared with laughter.
"What's your name, pretty boy?" Larry asked with a booming voice that caused Draco to shake.
In the state of fear he was in, he should have forgotten how to speak entirely. Instead, his mouth went on autopilot and his traditional Malfoy attitude took over for him, "None of your fucking business muggle."
"Muggle, eh? Woah ho ho!" Simon jeered as the three men continued to laugh at him. "What's that mean, eh? Some kinda special homo code word?"
"You really are just a rude little fag boy, aren't ya?" Ben taunted Draco.
"So, what's that mean, huh?" Simon continued. "Does that mean you want us? Huh? Is that how you kinda people pick each other up? Walk into someone you like in the street and call them nasty little code words hopin' they'll fuck you?"
"Yeah, is it dat? Or do you jus' walk inta' people 'cause ya' think you homos are better than 'da rest of us, huh? Is that it?" Ben pushed Draco violently as he yelled, knocking him back into Big Larry's hairy, thin T-shirt covered chest. Even through the thin fabric of his shirt, Draco could feel the mangle of body hair that lay beneath it as his head was slammed against his jelly like pectorals.
Draco nearly had the wind knocked out of him as Larry responded by aggressively propelling him forward with another shove; throwing him square into the hands of bald Simon who grabbed roughly him by the arm and slammed him face first down into the concrete like an amateur wrestler. Unable to keep any sense of balance, Draco's fall was broken by his elbow and the front of his face causing his lip to bust open.
The taste of blood quickly filled his mouth as Ben roughly stepped on the back of his neck and jammed his face into the gravel. Draco nearly bit down on his own tongue as a rough boot was lodged into his side as Ben began to kick him.
After what felt like minutes, but had actually been just under one, Ben moved his foot back to a level footing. Draco's entire body was tense as it anticipated another kick in the side. The taste of dirt and the feel of tiny broken rocks filled Draco's mouth. He spit out a mouthful of blood, dirt, rock and filth infested saliva then dared to take a deep, yet staggered breath. Never in his life had Draco felt his heart beat as quickly as it was in that moment; he could hear his pulse running through his ears as loud as a bass drum.
For a brief moment, Draco dared to hope that this ordeal may be over when a new foot suddenly kicked him on the opposite side of his body. A loud cracking sound filled Draco's ears; he was certain he'd broken a rib. The three men watched as Draco's body curled in on itself and he began to whimper in severe pain. Without mercy, Simon kicked him again with such intensity that he flipped over onto his back and was now facing his three attackers.
"Not so pretty now, are ya?"
They were still laughing.
"Up on yer' knees," ordered Larry.
Draco observed his surroundings in a state of panic. He couldn't run. He was trapped between the three men with nowhere to go. With the throbbing pain in his side, he doubted he could run even if he'd had the chance to flee.
"Get up ass-boy!" Larry shouted. Draco hoped that Larry had been loud enough to wake someone up in the towering apartments looming over them. The dark windows felt like a dozen closed eyes refusing to observe the deplorable scene occurring beneath their curtains.
Draco struggled to get up on his knees. They laughed even more at the sight of his pitiful state. Sharp pain filled his chest as he felt the pressure of his broken rib made it difficult to breathe properly. He attempted to straight his torso and maintain a sliver of dignity as he balanced on his knees, grabbing his side and hissing in pain.
"I don' wanna' see your faggot ass in these parts ever again. Do ya' hear wat I'm sayin' ta' you, pretty boy?" slurred drunken Ben into his ear. Draco's ear felt wet from the spit flying from his mouth as he spoke.
Still on his knees, Draco was faced directly between Larry and Simon. He kept his eyes fixed to the ground, afraid that the wrong look would provoke his attackers.
What he wouldn't give for a wand in that moment.
They'd all be dead.
Every. Single. One.
He could always come back, after his program, and track them down to slaughter them like the animals they clearly were.
Draco's thoughts of revenge were interrupted by the terrifying sound of a zipper being pulled down.
Draco clamped his eyes shut and wished one of them would kick him in the head until he was unconscious. He didn't want to be present for this. He would rather die than deal with what was about to come next. He wished they would kill him.
He couldn't help it; he began to hyperventilate.
"What do you think guys? Can you fuck a faggot straight?" asked Larry.
They all laughed again.
The sound of that laughter was going to haunt Draco's dreams.
If he survived this.
Draco was shutting his eyes so hard that his eye lids hurt. Every sound around him was amplified. He could make out the rustling noise of fabric and denim as Larry adjusted his jeans, tugging them down just far enough to expose himself.
Draco pursed his lips so tight he could feel blood push out of the area where it had busted open. He felt light headed as he continued to hyperventilate through his nose, faster and faster.
Pass out.
Please, just pass out.
Merlin, I beg you to pass out!
As light headed as he felt, he was hopelessly conscious.
The sound of dragging footsteps echoed in his ears as Larry inched closer towards him. He heard Ben step up closer from behind, then roughly grab a large chunk of his hair, violently pulling his head back until his neck hurt.
Larry laughed as he spoke, "Don't want to open your mouth for this, eh? I thought you'd be eager for my cock pretty boy! What's the matter? I'm not as worthy as Ben, is that it?"
They all joined in the laughter.
Draco would give anything to them all shut the fuck up.
Draco tried to prepare himself for the kind of thing that is impossible to prepare for when he suddenly felt a stream of warm moisture hit his face.
Their laughter increased.
Larry was pissing in his face.
Draco threw up in his mouth and nearly chocked on his own sick, but he refused to part his lips open.
Larry shook off the last couple drops and zipped himself back up. "Keep your eyes closed if you wanna live through his," he warned in a gruff tone.
Draco almost got his wish as Ben lifted his foot and kicked it into the back of his head, slamming Draco back down into the gravel, knocking his face down into the pool of urine beneath him. He felt his head go light and thought for a moment he would pass out, but instead all of his pain increased as his head began to throb and a pounding ache played against his ears.
Simon lifted his foot and pushed his face deeper into it the puddle, as if he were squishing a bug until he had scraped Draco's nose up against the gravel so badly it was bleeding now too.
He didn't dare move as he lay in a puddle of blood and piss. Even after he heard them run out of the alley, he lay still in the filth.
It felt like hours when Draco had the courage to crack his eyes open. One of the brutes had kicked him in the corner of his right eye, so now it was swelling so rapidly he couldn't fully open it. The street seemed to be completely consumed in darkness and he could barely see. Draco tried to pull himself up but cried out in pain and fell back into the disgusting puddle causing it to splash up in his face.
Shamed, humiliated, and terrified Draco weakly crawled himself away from the scene of his attack until he was able to lean his body against the wall of the building. It hurt to breath as he lay huddled on his side. His head was spinning, his side burned, the smell of urine and vomit filled his nostrils, and his mouth tasted like blood and iron.
A darkness deeper than that of the night started to loom around him; engulfing his mind until he was forced to surrender into it, falling helplessly into the deep endlessness.
As the dark took over his consciousness Draco accepted the possibility that might be dying.
He welcomed it and let go.
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A/N: I just love tragedy, don't you? Remember to submit your review and I'll see you next chapter!
