Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter characters, or Jive Jones' song 'Me, Myeslf, and I'
**dhfoushfo siygonsydgfsdfy ysody**= lyrics
Me, Myself, and I
A Song Fiction to Jive Jones' 'Me, Myself, and I'
**Me, myself, myself & I
Just me, myself & I
Myself, myself, I, I, I, I, I
Me, myself, myself & I
Just me, myself & I
Me, myself, myself & I
Just me, myself & I**
Sixteen-year-old Draco Malfoy lay asleep in his four-poster bed. Just another day alone with himself. Now that Crabbe and Goyle were suspended and Pansy had commited suicide after he'd rejected her.
**I woke up late, fell out of bed
Missed the bus to high school hell
Mom's painting my nails, reading a magazine
You seem asleep, me steal the keys
Now I'm the star of my neighborhood hell
Dad, there's no need to yell
'Cause I changed my name**
Draco rolled over in the sheets and groaned as he opened his eyes. A black-nailed hand fumbled blindly on the bedside table, finally grasping his watch.
"Shit!" he exclaimed. He was late to his first calss of the day. A red envelope lay on the floor and he picked it up, ripping it open.
"WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!?!?!?! YOU'RE DISGRACING THE FAMILY!!!!!!! WHY THROW AWAY SUCH A GOOD NAME AND EXCHANGE IT FOR SUCH A STUPID ONE?!?!?! DRACO ROMMELLE GOTHE?!?!?! HOW SHITTY IS THAT?!?!?!?!?!?!"
came his father's voice. Why did he even give a fuck about Draco? Why bother send a howler to a son who wouldn't even bother to listen?
Draco pulled on his traditional black robes and snapped his spike collar around his neck. He messily spiked his raven's-wing-black hair—he'd dyed it late last night. Late for Transfiguration, McGonagall was sure to make his morning Hell.
**You know that I
Love to do it all the time
I wanna get high
And that's fine
Me, myself, myself & I
Just me, myself & I
Me, myself, myself & I
Just me, myself & I**
Technically he wasn't alone. He did have the sex and the alcohol. And the drugs. Especially the drugs. Knowing he was late enough already, he knew another thirty minutes couldn't be a problem. He dug his hand into the abyss of his trunk and pulled out a marijuana joint. He lit it with his wand and inhaled the blissful law-breaker. He thought of Cho Chang two nights ago. Damn she was good. She knew exactly what a man wanted, and didn't mind doing it. Unlike that Hermione bitch. She hadn't enjoyed it at all.
Nobody agreed with Draco's life. But he really didn't give a fuck. He liked having alone time with a joint, some Jack Daniel's, and a girl willing to do a lap dance, maybe more.
**Today I got hate, made the grade
I guess I'll graduate, oh well
Smoking can kill
Oh how I love these days
You know that I
Love to do it all the time
I wanna get high
And that's fine
Me, myself & I
You know that I
Love to do it all the time
I wanna get high
And that's fine**
He breathed in the toxic substance he held between his index and middle fingers. Teachers bitched about smelling drugs on his clothes, but never were smart enough or cared enough to investigate. They knew his mind and family were already fucked up enough, without the extra evidence. He didn't care if he died from his habits. He didn't care if he lived. All he cared about were his drugs, his women, and his alcohol, which he assumed he'd have plenty of in Hell, if he played his cards right. Which wasn't hard. At all. He dropped the centimeter remaining of his pot and crushed it with his shoe. It didn't matter if someone saw it.
Draco grabbed his books and slinked downstairs, getting disgusted glares from people in the Slytherin common room that didn't have early classes. He gave them all the finger.
He opened the door of Transfigurations and was bitched at by McGonagall for the hundredth time that year. But he had good grades. So he'd pass. And finally get out.
**Me, myself, myself & I
Just me, myself & I
Myself, myself, I, I, I, I, I
I love to do it all the time
I wanna get high
And that's fine**
Halfway through class he popped some Ecstasy. It didn't seem to do anything, so he popped another. McGonagall didn't notice. It finally got to his system. Two was way too many, and he went hyperactive. And very rude. He ran up to the front of the classroom and started talking crazy to McGonagall. She blushed, but was also very angry. She pushed him off of her and he fell drunkenly, hitting his head on the stone floor. McGonagall gasped as she saw blood begin to trickle from his forehead.
"Somebody get Madam Pomfrey!"
Everyone stood there, staring like idiots.
"NOW!" she shrieked, and several Slytherins rushed out of the room.
Everything else was a blur as Draco lay unconscious and McGonagall held him in shock. Madam Pomfrey ran in, her arms full with all sorts of potions and wound dressings. She worked quickly, her hands shaking, but the look in her eyes was failure.
It seemed as if Draco Rommelle Gothe would be even more alone now than he had ever been before, as the class exited, leaving his life slipping rapidly out of Madam Pomfrey's grasp. But in the time it took his overdosed body to die, his blacked out mind found safety that in Hell, at least someone might actually care about him. He accepted that he would live out his afterlife with Lucifer just as his connection with the real world was lost.
**Me, myself, myself & I
Just me, myself & I
I love to do it all the time
I wanna get high
And that's fine **
~*~
A/N: Yeah, I know him going hyperactive was kinda weird, and may even seem somewhat funny, it's not SUPPOSED to be funny, k? It's what the stuff did to him. But anyways, that's all. Before I leave you to review this (please?), God Bless America, and may He help the world through this horrible time. And may you hopefully Rest in Peace, victims of September 11, 2001.