Draco spent much of the next week in the same fashion. He was falling
apart. He did not look it as he made sure that all appearances were kept
up, but he could feel the stress and confusion getting to him. His father
had written him asking for the monthly update of the going-ons of Hogwarts,
Harry, and his teachers. That was two days ago and Draco hadn't yet
written back. He would read the letter, sit at his desk with the quill
poised over the parchment, start writing a few lines, and then realize that
his father would be able to see right through all of his empty words.
There was nothing for him to write. His father would know; he always knew.
Draco shook. He had nightmares. Ones were he had finally lost all control and saw the strings that held him up like a horrific farce of a puppet. He would desperately want to be freed and then the puppet master would laugh evilly at him and grant his wish. The strings would be cut and little marionette Draco would fall. He would fall and he would break; he was only made of wood after all.
Many nights had been spent up in one of the towers in an empty room drinking smuggled Butterbeer. There were nights that Draco couldn't remember how he had gotten back to bed and mornings clutching the loo. He was ditching classes to do nothing better then sit outside them. He just could not work up the energy to sit there at his desk. He had gotten a stern lecture from McGonagall when she found him sitting across the hall from her class when he should have been in it. The berating had ended on a peculiar note when she had given him an odd look and did not demand that he take his place in class. In fact she had made little protest when Draco had stood up and walked away before she actually told him he could.
Control. Draco longed to feel like he was in control. He had to be in control of anything in his life no matter how small. The broken doll was learning to walk by itself in painfully tiny steps. He was on his own. He had woken up from the spell to find he had no loving parents or friends to support him. How had the elite, pure born, magical boy ended up so alone?
That's how it started really, a grasp at control over himself and his surroundings. He began with his appearance. He made sure that his choice of wardrobe was perfection and his hair and skin immaculate. He spent hours, all told, in front of the mirror with various moisturizers and gels. His mother had always told him how far too many witches relied on magic to improve their looks, but then as their magic faded, or they became too ugly for their magic to maintain the illusion, all of their looks were lost. In one of his rare lessons from his mother, Narcissa had shown him how to take care of his skin and looks naturally. This would preserve them for longer and save him from having to use magic until much later.
If Draco had been considered one of the best looking boys at school, he was now by all regards the best looking boy. As he walked by girls' heads would turn to follow after him with their eyes and boys would glare at him when they saw their girlfriends giving him come-hither looks. Draco noted all of the regards and took it as a sign that things were starting to become right again in the world.
He did not notice the close scrutiny that a pair of emerald eyes had on him at many points during the day. Harry had taken to watching Draco a lot more then he would have been willing to admit. He just could not shake the feeling that something was up with the other boy. Harry had remarked that Draco had been skipping classes. One night he had found the Slytherin boy passed out in a tower classroom while wandering with the aid of his Marauder's map. Now here Draco was parading around looking good enough to kill. Harry had even seen Draco pull out a small pocket mirror during potions and stare at himself critically in it. These were not normal actions for Malfoy as far as Harry knew from the past four years they had spent bickering at each other. Although Draco had resumed attending classes and, as far as Harry knew from his checking of the map, had not spent any more nights out drinking, Harry decided to get to the bottom of the mystery called Draco Malfoy and that meant some good old fashioned stalking.
___________________________________________________________________
Draco sighed as he watched Potter slice their ginger roots. He wanted to reach over their workbench and show the Golden boy how to do it properly. Instead he turned back to his own ingredients and started to prepare them with such dexterity and perfection that Potter would be put to shame when Snape came to check up on them.
The entire class had been paired up to work on their project. Each group was making a different confusion potion that would affect one of the senses. Draco and Harry were working on a slightly complicated potion that affected a person's hearing causing them to hear many voices at once and be unable to focus on any one to actually make sense of what was being said.
Snape, as Draco had predicted, came by and praised Draco's preparation.
'Mr. Potter, you would think that being paired with such a gifted student that you would learn a thing or two about how to properly prepare your ingredients. You are not cooking here, Potter. Every cut has to be exact.'
Draco basked in Potter's discomfort. He felt elated to know that there were still some things that he could do better than 'Perfect Potter'.
Harry looked over at Malfoy's part of the potion and begrudgingly admitted that when compared to Malfoy's cutting his own looked second rate, but he was still fairly good when compared to the rest of the class. Any one would look like an amateur in Potions next to Draco 'Potion Perfect' Malfoy. It was Harry's turn to sigh. He figured his ego could stand Snape's bruising since never had he gotten less than perfect on any potion that he and Malfoy were paired up on. Harry realized that Draco had not commented on Snape's chiding. Glancing over at Draco, Harry saw that the other boy was paying him absolutely no attention and was intently reading the instructions, so much so that his lips moved ever so slightly as he read. For some reason this annoyed Harry.
Harry nosily cleared his throat and achieved his desired result. Draco looked up from his notebook at Harry.
'What do you want? Finally going to ask for help with those roots now that you have massacred them?'
'I was wondering Malfoy, if you had taken any of these confusion potions since you have been acting so out of sorts lately? What's wrong with you? Daddy not going to buy you a new broom?'
Draco felt his hands go cold. "Potter has noticed that I am different!" His thoughts pounded in time with his heartbeat. "If he has noticed then there is no way that my father will not. I am as good as dead if he wonders about my loyalty even for a second. I may be first born, but mother is only thirty-three and perfectly capable of having more children if father finds me too flawed. I have been such a bad son thinking the things I have. How can I betray my family? Why am I so awful? Who was I trying to fool? There is no escaping my own name."
Draco tried to focus on his work, but the attention to the task would not come and so, without consciously deciding, he walked out of class leaving behind a bewildered Snape and an equally phased Harry. He reached the dungeon level boys' lavatory and locked himself into one of the stalls. He sank down to the floor against the door shaking. He pulled his knees up to his chest in an attempt to gather himself, but his thoughts were still flying. One thing that screamed at him louder than all the rest was that he had been horribly stupid. If Potter was merely suspicious, Draco had now confirmed everything. He had fled his favourite class. Fled from Harry Potter while the entire class watched. How could he have been so stupid?
He felt like punching himself. Draco pulled out his Swiss army knife with the intent of maliciously cutting up the stall door. Some violence would make him feel better and focus his anger. As he fumbled with the blade trying to get it out he ended up cutting himself. Thus Draco found a new way of gaining control. With this shiny blade he could make his inside match his outside.
Whenever he felt like he was loosing control all he had to do was cut, just enough to clear his mind. These pinpricks, and longer graceful slices really did help. They didn't hurt very much at all. In fact he could make them quite artistic. Soon little red patterns decorated his inner arms and legs. These designs transformed his fears, doubts and pain into something else, something he could handle.
Draco craved even more control now. Since he could make things he felt inside outside things then he reasoned that he could control what went into him. He would eat very little and when he felt that something was wrong he could always just vomit it up and it would no longer affect him. His weight would no longer be a problem. He had complete control over himself now and he felt good for the first time in a long time.
_______________________________________________________________________
Harry had been stalking Draco for two days since the incident in Potions. He found very little about the blond boy's daily routine that would explain the unusual behaviour. Harry did notice three things that struck him as slightly odd, but may have been just Slytherin things. First was that Draco seemed to have no friends. He didn't even really talk to anyone. He would always sit by himself and read or do homework. Occasionally one of his housemates would approach him, but they always left after a brief chat if they weren't ignored out right. Second of all was that Draco disappeared for hours of the night into one of Hogwart's music rooms. Harry longed to know what Malfoy was up to in there but hadn't worked up the nerve to sneak in yet. Lastly was that Draco was looking really sickly. He was still good looking by all accounts but his gaunt cheeks, his dingy hair, and his listless eyes marred this beauty. Harry was starting to worry about the boy.
He now had even more questions and still not one answer. He had brought it up with Hermione and she had listened carefully to his every word as she always did.
'Harry, I wouldn't worry too much about him. Malfoy does as he pleases and I for one am glad that he has been avoiding us all month. Let him take care of himself. Since when has he ever asked for help? I never knew how peaceful this school could be without that silly git threatening us all the time, even if exams are less than three months away.'
Harry was unwilling to let things lie just yet. The Potter Patrol, as he had come to think of his spying, continued.
___________________________________________________________________
Okay so I wrote this instead of my term paper. I expect some C&Cs though. That's over 2000 words in one day.
Me thinks this is getting a bit angst-y. Poor Draco.
Well does it work? Is it still keeping him and Harry in character?
Draco shook. He had nightmares. Ones were he had finally lost all control and saw the strings that held him up like a horrific farce of a puppet. He would desperately want to be freed and then the puppet master would laugh evilly at him and grant his wish. The strings would be cut and little marionette Draco would fall. He would fall and he would break; he was only made of wood after all.
Many nights had been spent up in one of the towers in an empty room drinking smuggled Butterbeer. There were nights that Draco couldn't remember how he had gotten back to bed and mornings clutching the loo. He was ditching classes to do nothing better then sit outside them. He just could not work up the energy to sit there at his desk. He had gotten a stern lecture from McGonagall when she found him sitting across the hall from her class when he should have been in it. The berating had ended on a peculiar note when she had given him an odd look and did not demand that he take his place in class. In fact she had made little protest when Draco had stood up and walked away before she actually told him he could.
Control. Draco longed to feel like he was in control. He had to be in control of anything in his life no matter how small. The broken doll was learning to walk by itself in painfully tiny steps. He was on his own. He had woken up from the spell to find he had no loving parents or friends to support him. How had the elite, pure born, magical boy ended up so alone?
That's how it started really, a grasp at control over himself and his surroundings. He began with his appearance. He made sure that his choice of wardrobe was perfection and his hair and skin immaculate. He spent hours, all told, in front of the mirror with various moisturizers and gels. His mother had always told him how far too many witches relied on magic to improve their looks, but then as their magic faded, or they became too ugly for their magic to maintain the illusion, all of their looks were lost. In one of his rare lessons from his mother, Narcissa had shown him how to take care of his skin and looks naturally. This would preserve them for longer and save him from having to use magic until much later.
If Draco had been considered one of the best looking boys at school, he was now by all regards the best looking boy. As he walked by girls' heads would turn to follow after him with their eyes and boys would glare at him when they saw their girlfriends giving him come-hither looks. Draco noted all of the regards and took it as a sign that things were starting to become right again in the world.
He did not notice the close scrutiny that a pair of emerald eyes had on him at many points during the day. Harry had taken to watching Draco a lot more then he would have been willing to admit. He just could not shake the feeling that something was up with the other boy. Harry had remarked that Draco had been skipping classes. One night he had found the Slytherin boy passed out in a tower classroom while wandering with the aid of his Marauder's map. Now here Draco was parading around looking good enough to kill. Harry had even seen Draco pull out a small pocket mirror during potions and stare at himself critically in it. These were not normal actions for Malfoy as far as Harry knew from the past four years they had spent bickering at each other. Although Draco had resumed attending classes and, as far as Harry knew from his checking of the map, had not spent any more nights out drinking, Harry decided to get to the bottom of the mystery called Draco Malfoy and that meant some good old fashioned stalking.
___________________________________________________________________
Draco sighed as he watched Potter slice their ginger roots. He wanted to reach over their workbench and show the Golden boy how to do it properly. Instead he turned back to his own ingredients and started to prepare them with such dexterity and perfection that Potter would be put to shame when Snape came to check up on them.
The entire class had been paired up to work on their project. Each group was making a different confusion potion that would affect one of the senses. Draco and Harry were working on a slightly complicated potion that affected a person's hearing causing them to hear many voices at once and be unable to focus on any one to actually make sense of what was being said.
Snape, as Draco had predicted, came by and praised Draco's preparation.
'Mr. Potter, you would think that being paired with such a gifted student that you would learn a thing or two about how to properly prepare your ingredients. You are not cooking here, Potter. Every cut has to be exact.'
Draco basked in Potter's discomfort. He felt elated to know that there were still some things that he could do better than 'Perfect Potter'.
Harry looked over at Malfoy's part of the potion and begrudgingly admitted that when compared to Malfoy's cutting his own looked second rate, but he was still fairly good when compared to the rest of the class. Any one would look like an amateur in Potions next to Draco 'Potion Perfect' Malfoy. It was Harry's turn to sigh. He figured his ego could stand Snape's bruising since never had he gotten less than perfect on any potion that he and Malfoy were paired up on. Harry realized that Draco had not commented on Snape's chiding. Glancing over at Draco, Harry saw that the other boy was paying him absolutely no attention and was intently reading the instructions, so much so that his lips moved ever so slightly as he read. For some reason this annoyed Harry.
Harry nosily cleared his throat and achieved his desired result. Draco looked up from his notebook at Harry.
'What do you want? Finally going to ask for help with those roots now that you have massacred them?'
'I was wondering Malfoy, if you had taken any of these confusion potions since you have been acting so out of sorts lately? What's wrong with you? Daddy not going to buy you a new broom?'
Draco felt his hands go cold. "Potter has noticed that I am different!" His thoughts pounded in time with his heartbeat. "If he has noticed then there is no way that my father will not. I am as good as dead if he wonders about my loyalty even for a second. I may be first born, but mother is only thirty-three and perfectly capable of having more children if father finds me too flawed. I have been such a bad son thinking the things I have. How can I betray my family? Why am I so awful? Who was I trying to fool? There is no escaping my own name."
Draco tried to focus on his work, but the attention to the task would not come and so, without consciously deciding, he walked out of class leaving behind a bewildered Snape and an equally phased Harry. He reached the dungeon level boys' lavatory and locked himself into one of the stalls. He sank down to the floor against the door shaking. He pulled his knees up to his chest in an attempt to gather himself, but his thoughts were still flying. One thing that screamed at him louder than all the rest was that he had been horribly stupid. If Potter was merely suspicious, Draco had now confirmed everything. He had fled his favourite class. Fled from Harry Potter while the entire class watched. How could he have been so stupid?
He felt like punching himself. Draco pulled out his Swiss army knife with the intent of maliciously cutting up the stall door. Some violence would make him feel better and focus his anger. As he fumbled with the blade trying to get it out he ended up cutting himself. Thus Draco found a new way of gaining control. With this shiny blade he could make his inside match his outside.
Whenever he felt like he was loosing control all he had to do was cut, just enough to clear his mind. These pinpricks, and longer graceful slices really did help. They didn't hurt very much at all. In fact he could make them quite artistic. Soon little red patterns decorated his inner arms and legs. These designs transformed his fears, doubts and pain into something else, something he could handle.
Draco craved even more control now. Since he could make things he felt inside outside things then he reasoned that he could control what went into him. He would eat very little and when he felt that something was wrong he could always just vomit it up and it would no longer affect him. His weight would no longer be a problem. He had complete control over himself now and he felt good for the first time in a long time.
_______________________________________________________________________
Harry had been stalking Draco for two days since the incident in Potions. He found very little about the blond boy's daily routine that would explain the unusual behaviour. Harry did notice three things that struck him as slightly odd, but may have been just Slytherin things. First was that Draco seemed to have no friends. He didn't even really talk to anyone. He would always sit by himself and read or do homework. Occasionally one of his housemates would approach him, but they always left after a brief chat if they weren't ignored out right. Second of all was that Draco disappeared for hours of the night into one of Hogwart's music rooms. Harry longed to know what Malfoy was up to in there but hadn't worked up the nerve to sneak in yet. Lastly was that Draco was looking really sickly. He was still good looking by all accounts but his gaunt cheeks, his dingy hair, and his listless eyes marred this beauty. Harry was starting to worry about the boy.
He now had even more questions and still not one answer. He had brought it up with Hermione and she had listened carefully to his every word as she always did.
'Harry, I wouldn't worry too much about him. Malfoy does as he pleases and I for one am glad that he has been avoiding us all month. Let him take care of himself. Since when has he ever asked for help? I never knew how peaceful this school could be without that silly git threatening us all the time, even if exams are less than three months away.'
Harry was unwilling to let things lie just yet. The Potter Patrol, as he had come to think of his spying, continued.
___________________________________________________________________
Okay so I wrote this instead of my term paper. I expect some C&Cs though. That's over 2000 words in one day.
Me thinks this is getting a bit angst-y. Poor Draco.
Well does it work? Is it still keeping him and Harry in character?