************************************************************************
Let me fall.
Let me climb.
There's a moment when fear,
And dream must collide.
Someone I am,
Is waiting for courage.
The one I want,
The one I will become,
Will catch me.
So let me fall,
If I must fall.
I won't heed your warnings.
I won't hear them.
************************************************************************
The boy stood there at the window, waiting. But waiting for what, he couldn't truly say. The others in his dormitory had gone to sleep long ago, under the influence of the sleeping potion the boy had slipped into their food at dinner. It wasn't his fault that they were so greedy. Perhaps if they weren't, they wouldn't have taken the potion, and therefore wouldn't sleep so deeply.
That'll be me soon. Sleeping deeply, not knowing the difference between dream and reality. I'll just be another pawn. Another pawn.
He couldn't understand why he had given in so easily. But he did understand in a way. He had wanted to provoke pleasure in those who looked down upon him. He wanted to find favor. He simply wanted to be loved and praised. He would be. He had been reassured of that.
Oh, yes, you'll be loved. They'll show you how much they love you when they scald your arm senseless with that horrible mark. Oh yes, you'll be loved.
One could barely see the wince that flickered across his white face, even paler in the moonlight that drifted through the windowpane. He didn't want to listen to his conscience. It would only get him into trouble. If he listened to it, he'd give up and turn tail. Then where would that get him?
FREEDOM, you fool! His conscience shrieked. Freedom from all the chains that have bound you for sixteen years! Freedom from the irrepressible eye that is always upon you!
No one can avert the gaze of Lord Voldemort.
The boy sighed deeply as his mind interjected into his thoughts. He had to find the divide between his conscience and his mind, but they bickered so often, and melded together so, that he could barely tell which was right and which was wrong.
The Dark Lord is all-knowing, all-powerful.
Oh yeah, that's why every single bloody plan he's put out to get rid of Harry Potter has failed, right? Yeah, real powerful, that one.
The boy surprised himself with the vivacity that he unleashed against the unfeeling voice that had been pounded into his mind from an early age. He could tell that his mind was surprised as well, for it was silent. Rarely was his mind silent. It was always working. But then, so was his conscience. Especially in matters that concerned his Father.
His Father.
What would he think? He'd be either proud or scandalized with the action he chose. There was no pleasing him. Only one way ended with his Father's approval, and that way was the one that had been keeping his body in cold dread ever since he'd gotten his Father's letter of information.
The boy's pale hand settled over a scrap of parchment that lay just beside him on the table at his bedside. He unrolled it and stared down at it, underwhelmed, as he read it again, for what had to be the thousandth time. Though the letter was short and succinct, the words filled his whole slight body with fear and dread at what was to come.
Draco,
The time has come. Make sure you are alone in the Common Room at exactly midnight on Halloween. Do whatever you have to do to achieve these ends. Do not fail me.
Father
He rolled the parchment back up and glanced down at his watch. It was only eleven. One more hour. One more hour of blessed freedom before he would be a slave to a bloody scar on his arm.
Damn, I sound like Potter. Him always complaining about his ruddy scar. Everyone thinks he's so special because of that scar. Well, I'll have a scar too. Then I'll make everyone see how *special* he is. I'll be more powerful than any of them. And Granger? She better pray that Potter and Weasley can protect her, because when I get that scar and everything is complete, I'll,
He stopped dead, his mouth drying out as he realized what he was about to say, realized who he sounded like. So, it was true. You couldn't escape who you were fated to become. How many times had he vowed that he would never be like his Father? How many times had he cursed him for giving this name, this inheritance? How many times? Yet, how many times had he begged and pleaded, practically slithering on his belly for his attention? How many times had he obeyed? How many times had he disobeyed?
"God," He muttered, raising his hand to his eyes.
His mind was silent now.
"Never a good sign." He whispered, waiting for it to happen, waiting for what always happened when his mind and conscience were in a heated battle for him, for his soul.
It's no use, you know?
Draco slowly lowered his hand and looked to his right. There, sitting on the windowsill, was an exact replica, the replica of himself that he'd often seen in his dreams. A long time ago, when he was a child, this manifestation that he conjured was his only companion, his only friend. He was just like him, perhaps more cruel and sarcastic, but still with the same thoughts and ideals. He'd grown up with this thing that for years he'd conjured willingly whenever he was thrust into his room, sobbing over some injustice or argument he'd had with his father. But as he grew older, the manifestation came without his bidding. It was the son his father had always wanted. How many times had he wished that this boy was his father's son, and he just the lowly conscience?
He'll come for you. You can't escape. Just accept it.
"You idiot, I can't just accept it." Draco muttered, settling himself on the windowsill beside the boy. "I've got to fight."
What for?
"For," Draco searched for words, rather for the right words. "For truth."
The manifestation scoffed loudly and shook his head in disgust.
For TRUTH? You, a Death Eater's son, fighting for TRUTH? That's good, Malfoy. That's really good.
"I'm serious! I can't do this! I can't. I might be Lucius Malfoy's son, but I don't want to be!"
And you think that WANTING to be something different is going to do something? We've had this discussion before, Draco.
"I know, I know. You can't change who you are. You can't change the past."
No, you can't. You CAN'T. And no matter what anyone says, even that stupid fool Dumbledore, no matter what they say, you can't change the future either. Paths are set with our entrance into the world. We make choices, we follow our path. It's as simple as that.
"Dumbledore said that we can change our paths before it's too late. Dumbledore said,"
DUMBLEDORE! Like he'd know! He doesn't know what you've been through! Doesn't know the pain of your Father not loving you because you're an only child, his only son, weak and inferior, the son he never wanted!
"Yes, yes." Draco murmured, letting his mind's words seep into him. "He never loved me." He whispered.
Tbis is the only way.
His mind paused a moment before resting a chilly hand on the boy's shoulder before speaking.
There's nothing you can do to change who you will become. You'll do this tonight, and when you do, I'll be there to catch you. Finally, finally, you and I can be one person, the son your Father always wanted.
Draco nodded slowly staring down at the floor of the bedroom.
"The son he always wanted." He whispered.
No! Don't do this! You know you don't want to accept this fate! Dumbledore said you didn't have to!
Draco froze as his conscience sprang to life, cutting into his thoughts. But he shook his head. That was wrong. Dumbledore was just an old fogey who didn't understand. He didn't know what it was like. He didn't realize that, that he had no choice. He had to be happy, and if that was going to happen, he had to do this.
A moment later, he slid off the windowsill to the floor and drew his cloak around himself. The manifestation behind him, frowned and called out to him.
Where're you going? You don't want to be late.
Draco slowly turned around and smiled at the manifestation.
"Don't worry. I won't be. I intend to be right on time, just like Father would want."
As Draco closed the door to the bedroom slowly behind him, his copy grinned happily and closed his eyes, fading into the darkness, leaving the room in stillness and silence.
************************************************************************
Let me fall,
If I fall.
Though the phoenix,
May or may not rise.
I will dance so freely,
Holding on to no one.
You can hold me only,
If you too will fall,
Away from all these useless fears,
And shame.
************************************************************************
Draco walked down the cold halls of Hogwarts, eyeing the portraits on the wall that snoozed noisily. There was no one out, not on Halloween. Filch was out and about most likely, but Draco was sure he didn't have to worry about him. After all, he wouldn't be in the castle for long. He just wanted to walk about.
This place had held no wonder for him as it had Potter and the others. This place was simply a pathetic manifestation of weak witchcraft and wizardry. It taught nothing about what they would need in the real world. In the real world, Voldemort was returning to power, slowly but surely, regaining his supporters. Only Draco and a few others knew that this night, the night of his initiatian into the Dark Lord's order, would see the end of Azkaban. Draco would return to this hole that he called home and his Father and the Dark Lord would attack Azkaban, releasing the prisoners there. And there would be a cry throughout all the wizarding world so great and so powerful that would echo throughout the world, spreading even to the Muggles. And in time they too would cry out in pain and death. Then it would all be silenced with one word. Then, the Dark Lord would rule all, and he, Draco Malfoy, would be one of the few who would survive.
Survive? Do you call that living? Living a life you do not wish to live? Wouldn't it be better to die?
Draco ignored his conscience, fighting to simply ignore his thoughts completely and walk. A moment later, he paused, drawing back into the shadows. There was a noise. He'd heard it. Surely, they couldn't have come so soon. Not now. But it wasn't his Father. There was no one. But he was sure that he'd heard something. A footstep. And whispering. It sounded, but it couldn't be.
Potter?
Draco had figured that after all this time, he'd finally gone mad. He could hear Potter, but he couldn't see him.
"Watch where you're stepping, Harry!"
Good Lord, it's Weasley. I AM mad.
Draco listened harder as Harry and Ron's voices shot into the dark hallway in front of him.
"Ron, will you shut up!"
"Good grief, Harry! I'm not makin' that much noise!"
"You are too! I can hear you!"
"Don't be such a worry-wort, Harry! What, you think someone's gonna jump out and scare us?"
"It is Halloween, Ron."
"Who ELSE would be out on Halloween, Harry? Tell me that."
Draco smirked as he heard the boys speak. He had to admire the fact that, though the two were really quite stupid, Potter still had a bit of sense. A bit. Not much. Hardly any in fact. Well, alright then. None.
He had half a mind to go out there and apprehend them as they came down the hallway, but wasn't sure where he should jump. The darkness was so thick that he could barely see anything, let alone the two boys. But even as he contemplated it, he stood dead still. Weasley's head was floating in the hallway, his red hair shining in the moonlight. And then,
"Potter?"
Two heads were floating around the hall, no bodies attached to them. Potter looked like he was yelling at Weasley, when they stopped dead, hearing his voice join theirs. They slowly turned towards the corner in which Draco stood. As Draco stepped out of the shadows, Ron's face went white and Harry's was just a mask of surprise as they stared at the Slytherin.
"What the bloody hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron seethed, finally getting his wits about him.
Draco rolled his eyes, trying to keep a cocky air about him, though it still unnerved him that he was only talking to Potter and Weasley's heads.
"What are you doing out here?"
Ron went red and shrugged.
"Don't have to tell you, Malfoy."
"Then neither do I." Draco paused a moment, then stared hard at the boys. "You, ah, mess up on a Amputo spell or something?"
Harry and Ron stared at each other, and Draco noticed with disgust, that neither of them, got it.
They're so stupid. Draco thought bitterly, wondering what Dumbledore and everyone else saw in them. Finally, the two boys looked down at their bodies and gave a cry of surprise.
"Ah, wait a second." Harry said quickly, stepping into a darkened corner. Draco tried to watch them as they hobbled off, but they hid themselves too well. A moment later, however, Harry and Ron returned, their bodies intact.
"How'd you do that?" Draco asked skeptically.
"Like you said, Amputo spell." Ron said quickly.
"Weasley, cures for Amputo spells require a highly trained wizard to perform it. And I know neither of you have the ability to do so." Draco sneered.
Ron looked aggravated and he placed his hands across his chest.
"We might."
Draco scoffed and shrugged, glancing down at his watch. He had a little less than a half hour. He couldn't have Weasley and Potter ratting him out.
"Well, how about this, Potter. I let you off the hook and won't rat you out, and you do the same. Deal?"
Harry stared at him in disbelief.
What the hell's the problem? I gave him a perfectly good offer. Draco thought in aggravation as Harry's face remained untrusting.
Why should he trust you? You are after all, Draco Malfoy. His conscience spat sarcastically. Draco drew back at the thought. It was true. He'd never played fair with Potter. Never.
"What do you have to hide, Malfoy?" Harry asked suspiciously.
"What do YOU?" Draco answered automatically, feeling like an idiot even as he said it.
"Look, Malfoy, we were going to the kitchen to get some food for me, Harry and Hermione. Alright? Now, just go do whatever you want."
Harry and Draco both stared both stared at Ron in surprise. Harry was surprised that Ron had told on them, Draco was surprised at the look that Ron was giving him, like he, like he knew.
"What're you playin' at, Weasley?" Draco asked uneasily.
"I know you want to do something alone and I don't fancy being there when it happens, that's all." Ron answered coldly. "Something you wanna tell us, Draco?"
Draco stared at Ron in shock as the boy's eyes took him in. There wasn't hate in his eyes, nor was there curiosity. Just knowing.
"What are you talking about, Weasley?" Draco spat.
"Talkin' about you, and that panicked look on your face."
Draco scoffed loudly.
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"Really? Want a mirror?" Ron asked dryly. Before Draco could reply, Ron strode towards him until there was less than a few inches between them. "Look, I just want to know what's up. I wouldn't normally ask, but you're not exactly looking healthy, much as I hate to admit it. What're you hiding?"
Draco was silent. He couldn't honestly believe that, that Weasley of all people, well, he couldn't.
"How do, why do you think I'm hiding something." Draco whispered, trying to keep his grip on the situation. Ron scoffed loudly.
"Malfoy, I don't have five older brothers for nothing. I can tell when they're hiding something. Especially Percy. He's see-through. If you're doing something that is gonna put Hogwarts in danger, you better tell me, otherwise I'll hex you right out that window and into the lake." Ron said fiercely.
Draco stared at the boy in surprise, then slowly began to chuckle. He thought he was going to do something to Hogwarts! Him? He didn't have the power to do anything to this place. But he would help bring about its destruction.
"I'm not doing anything to Hogwarts, Weasley. Honestly." Draco scoffed. "Why the hell would I do anything to Hogwarts? It's my home, my haven, my life!" Draco laughed sarcastically.
Ron stood still, staring at Draco with narrowed eyes as he continued to laugh.
"No, Weasley, I'm not doing anything to Hogwarts. Not tonight. Tonight," Draco's breath caught in his throat.
He couldn't say it. He thought he would have been able to. But he couldn't. It was almost, well, he was afraid that if he said it, then he'd be accepting it, then it would come true. He would believe it, and it would happen.
"Why do you care what happens to me? To this place? What is it to you?" Draco suddenly hissed angrily. Ron stared at him stonily.
"It's my home, my haven, my life." Ron repeated steadily. "It's one of the only places that teaches the goodness in magic, as well as truth. Bet you can't get that at Durmstrang, right?"
Draco was silent. He could only stare at Ron. He would never have believed that the boy could have so much understanding, so much love for a place that he loved. This was a Weasley! The stupid Muggle-lover. He wasn't supposed to have brains! But here he was, telling him, Draco Malfoy, what he believed in. And he hadn't even mentioned Muggles. He hadn't expected for him to actually believe in something.
Weasley didn't speak again, just stared at him silently. Harry walked up a minute later, eyeing Draco closely.
"Why are you holding your arm, Draco?" He whispered.
Draco stared down at his arm. One hand was grasping his forearm protectively, trying to hold off the inevitable, though the moment hadn't even come yet. He tore his arm away from his forearm angrily. But he couldn't say anything, couldn't deny it. Then, before he could do anything, Potter had grabbed his sleeve and had jerked it up to expose the white flesh beneath. Draco drew it away, snarling and shoving down his robes. Harry turned to Ron and shook his head.
"You're goin' to join the Death Eaters, aren't you?" Ron asked bluntly.
"Always the forward one, aren't you, Weasley?" Draco snarled. Ron shrugged.
"Mum says it's a family trait."
"Well, quell your candid thoughts, if you don't mind, and keep it out of my business!" Draco yelled, shoving past them. He had fifteen minutes left. He had to get back to the Common Room.
"You don't have to do it, you know."
Draco stopped dead as Potter's voice rang into the hallway.
"Dumbledore would protect you. You know he would. He doesn't care if you're Lucius Malfoy's son."
Draco closed his eyes and slowly turned around to face the two boys.
"You don't seem to get it, Potter." He said slowly, emotion laboring in every word. "There's no point in resisting. My path is set. Everything is in place. Why should I hide from something that will find me, no matter where I go?"
"Because it's worth it!" Harry cried out. "You really don't want to live your life in the service of a monster who kills ruthlessly and with reckless abandon! I've seen Voldemort, Draco! He has no pity for anyone, even his most loyal servants! He treats them like dirt, because that's all they are to him! Dirt! You can fight it!"
"I wish I could listen to you, Potter. That's one thing I can say truthfully. But I can't listen. I've got no choice. Besides, why do you even care? I'm getting what I deserve. It's all I deserve. No matter what I do, no matter where I go, I'm trapped. You have it easy, Potter. You know who you stand with, who you stand for. Other people chose who I was to stand with and for. I don't have the luxuries you do. I never, never will." Draco's words were barely audible by the time he ceased to speak. He had ten minutes. He didn't want to be late. Father would be waiting.
Harry and Ron both stared as Draco walked away from them, back towards the dungeons from where he had crept from. They both eyed each other, then ran towards Dumbledore's office. They had only a little bit of time left. They couldn't be late. They just couldn't.
Draco stood still in the deserted Common Room, waiting silently. There were five minutes left.
Well, this is the end. He thought silently.
No, it is the BEGINNING! His mind insisted.
He didn't resist. He didn't have the energy. Curse Potter for trying to draw him back. Now that old fear had returned. That old weakness. He was weak. He didn't deserve to live. He deserved to feel the pain of the Dark Lord's mark. It was all he deserved.
He raised his head wearily as a strong wind blew into the dungeon. A painting of Salazar Slytherin raised up and two figures walked inside. Lucius Malfoy sneered as he looked about the room and glanced down at the short man at his side.
"Well done, Wormtail. I will inform our Master that you lead us here without delays or setbacks."
The short man nodded and whispered adolations under his breath. Lucius walked forward and placed his hand proudly on his son's shoulder.
"You are here." He breathed. "Well done, and even on time."
"Have I done the right thing?" Draco whispered.
Lucius' hand tightened on the boy's shoulder and he nodded firmly.
"Of course. I'm proud of you."
Draco slowly raised his head to gaze at his father.
You see, it is the beginning. You are becoming the son he should have had.
"Yes, I see now." Draco whispered, his mind's words echoing bout his conscience. His father only smiled and drew him towards the hole in the wall. Draco walked forth in a sort of daze. His father was proud of him.
He stepped into the hole and he and his father and the other man, Wormtail, stood still, facing out towards the room, waiting for the portrait to fall back into place. Just then, Draco's eyes focused as the portrait swung down slowly. Dumbledore, Snape, Harry and Ron had just burst through the door of the Slytherin dungeons.
"Can't you make it go any faster?" Lucius hissed as the portrait swung slowly downwards.
The short squabby man shook his head nervously.
"It's going as fast as it can." He whispered frantically.
Draco could see clearly now. His mind was clear too. He didn't want to be in this place. He wanted to go with Dumbledore. He wanted to change. He didn't want this path!
"HELP ME!" He screamed.
Snape was only a few feet away. He waved his wand at the portrait. A curse bounced off the portrait as it closed. Draco dropped to the floor, peering through the few inches of light that shot through the darkness. There was a hand there, Potter's. He had to reach it. The portrait was closing. He touched Potter's fingers, could see that scar and his eyes.
"Hold on, Draco! Hold on!"
Draco could hear Potter yelling. But his touch, it was growing fainter. His manifestation, his twin was prying his fingers away from Potter's.
You're disappointing your Father! It hissed.
"Let me fall." He whispered to Harry.
There was a look of realization in Harry's eyes as Draco stared fixedly at him, then released his hold on the boy's hands. He could barely hear Harry's cry of dismay as the portrait swung completely closed. He sat back on the floor, staring into the darkness, as the floor beneath him dropped. He had missed it. He had lost his chance. He glanced up above him, and he could see his Father's sneer resting on his lips.
He had lost his chance. He had failed everyone. He had failed his Father.
************************************************************************
Someone I am,
Is waiting for my courage.
The one I want,
The one I will become,
Will catch me.
So let me fall,
If I must fall.
I won't heed your warnings,
I won't hear.
Let me fall,
If I fall.
There's no reason,
To miss this one chance,
This perfect moment.
Just let me fall.
************************************************************************
He stood around an immense fire. The flames were excruciatingly hot, but no one else seemed to notice. The others, the adults and a few teenagers greeted each other happily, each eager for the ceremony to begin. They knew what was coming later and they wanted it with a passion.
He didn't care. He was watching the flames. It was almost like his Father's pensieve, only in fire. He could see everything that had happened to him in his short life, flashing before him in the flames, all the times when he could have had friends and he refused, all the times he'd tried to be brave and hadn't, all the times when he'd tried to be his Father's son, and hadn't. But he wouldn't fail him now. He couldn't.
"Draco Malfoy."
Draco slowly raised his head to look at the tall man before him. The face was horrible to look at, but in his red eyes, Draco could see power, see the power he held in his very hands.
"You have come here upon your Father's recommendation. He says you are loyal to our cause. Are you?"
Draco let the words spoken by the Dark Lord echo into his mind for a moment, then glanced at the flames. Potter's face was there, staring at him in disbelief, pleading for him to change. He didn't understand. He'd never understand.
"I am."
"Then stand before me, and extend your arm."
As Draco slowly rolled up his sleeve, Potter's words rang through him.
Because it's worth it! You really don't want to live your life in the service of a monster who kills ruthlessly and with reckless abandon! I've seen Voldemort, Draco! He has no pity for anyone, even his most loyal servants! He treats them like dirt, because that's all they are to him! Dirt! You can fight it!
"But I can't." Draco whispered. "Why should I miss this chance, this moment, to prove myself? I'll never have another chance. It's now or never."
He couldn't tell if Voldemort had heard him. The Dark Lord was simply smiling down at him, his expression unreadable. Slowly, Draco extended the white flesh of his forearm, clenching his teeth as Harry and Ron's words began to intermingle in his mind, confusing him, drawing his thoughts away from the task at hand.
It's my home, my haven, my life. It's one of the only places that teaches the goodness in magic, as well as truth. Bet you can't get that at Durmstrang, right?
Why are you holding your arm, Draco?
You're goin' to join the Death Eaters, aren't you?
You don't have to do it, you know.
Dumbledore would protect you! You know he would! He doesn't care if you're Lucius Malfoy's son!
Hold on, Draco! Hold on!
Draco squeezed his eyes tightly shut as Voldemort's wand raised, poised over the white flesh of his forearm. Even as the pain rushed upon him, Draco did not cry out. He could not disappoint his Father. But even as his conscience was trampled down and his mind gained dominance, one final plea entered Draco Malfoy's mind as it was plunged into final, and eternal darkness.
GOD, LET ME FALL!
************************************************************************
"Let Me Fall" song credits go to Josh Groban