A/N: Yay people reviewed yay! I rock! (not really) Thanks so much for
reviewing this, guys! You don't know how much this means to me!!! :::starts
weeping with joy::: Anyway, I think that this is the concluding chapter to
'Someone Else' (just two chapters, yes, I know it's bad). But, still, look
on the bright side - I might be persuaded to write a THIRD chapter if you
bribe me with cookies (and reviews) . . .
~~~~~~~~~~~Someone Else~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What the . . .?" you start, clearly not getting it. Your eyes suddenly widen in realization. "No . . ." you whisper softly. "No. No no no! You can't be serious! You //can't// be!" you cry.
And why on earth NOT, Potter? Just because you've never had someone love you doesn't mean that you can assume what it feels like and start criticizing me about it.
My expression seems to give my thoughts away.
"Because it's sick. It's sick, and it's . . . it's WRONG!" you cry, eyes somewhat glistening.
Anger starts to fill me.
"Don't you dare talk about what you don't know, Potter!" I snap.
Your eyes widen again.
"It's true, isn't it? You . . . you . . . you live in some twisted world where you're obsessed with . . . with your own father," you say, green eyes still wide in wonderment.
"It's not an obsession," I sneer. I smile maniacally again. "It's love," I say dreamily, thinking of him.
"No. No, no, Draco, it isn't, it //isn't// love. Look, whatever Lucius has made you believe, it is //not// love, he doesn't love or care for anybody, he //can't//!" you cry, desperately trying to get me to change my mind. As if I can do that.
All your little speech does is make me all the more angry, you insolent little brat.
"How dare you! How dare you even //assume// that you know what sort of relationship me and Lucius have! He loves me! He does, I //know// he does!" I hiss.
"You don't have a //relationship//!" you spit. "What you //have// is some wacko spell on you, to amuse Lucius's twisted little mind!" you spit.
Before I can control myself, I strike you across the face. How DARE you talk about my father that way? How dare you say he has a twisted mind? You're the twisted one, Potter, what with your heroic morals, and your heroic abilities, and your simple heroic-ness! It's all YOUR fault that I had to COME to Hogwarts in the first place, JUST to keep an eye on you.
If Voldemort had killed you the first time, I could've been staying at home with him, but NO. You just had to keep getting lucky.
You look at me, holding the side of your face, which is becoming quite red, and I bet my eyes are blazing in anger.
"Bastard," I spit quietly.
"He //doesn't// love you," you say, dropping down to your knees. You move forward, staring up at my face with those too-bright green eyes of yours. "He //doesn't//, OK? He's just playing with your //mind//, Draco. He's making you //believe// that he loves you, and that you love him, when neither of you really love each other!" you say quietly, in a pleading sort of voice.
To your surprise, I hit you across the face again.
"You complete and utter BASTARD. Of //course// he loves me. Why else would he-" I cut myself off, drifting into my sweet memories. "Why else would he make love to me? Then hit me. Make me cry. Then kiss away my tears. And fuck me again," I whisper, that same smile appearing on my face again.
I look down at you.
I see hurt and disbelief in your eyes.
"No." you start shaking your head. "No, no, NO! It's NOT true! Draco, can't you see that he doesn't love you, not one bit, not at //all//! Why else would he hurt you?" you ask quietly, in that pleading voice again.
I stare down at you coldly, trying to bore holes through your eyes with my gaze.
"You can't have true love without hurt," I say icily.
"Draco . . . Draco, please. Please, just //listen// to yourself. You're in love with your own //father//. And you . . . he . . . he //hurts// you, he does things that people aren't supposed to do," you say quietly, still on your knees, a bruise forming on your cheek.
"Potter, don't you think I //know// that? That's what makes our love . . . unique," I say, drifting off into sweet memories again.
I quickly shake myself out of my reverie and look down at you.
"Draco, look, I'm on my //knees// for you, I'm //begging// you to-" you start, but I cut you off.
"To fuck you? It's not the first time," I sneer. "I'm going home for the Christmas holidays. I'll be leaving to see him tomorrow," I say coldly.
You shake your head, slowly at first, then quicker.
"No." you say. "No, I will NOT let you go back to that . . . that . . . that cold-hearted evil MONSTER!" you yell.
Before you know what's happening, my foot connects with your stomach, leaving you winded.
"How dare you, Potter?" I ask quietly, venom dripping from every syllable. "How DARE YOU CALL HIM THAT?" I roar, savagely punching you across the face. You gasp softly in surprise. I punch you again. Blood spurts out of your nose, but I don't care. I keep hitting you across the face, then I kick you in the stomach again, making you drop onto the cold stone floor.
You manage to look at me amongst all the blood on your face. I see that you are crying. Do I care? No. You bastard. You deserve everything I've done to you. And everything I'm going to do . . .
With that, I smile manically, and kick you in the stomach again. I keep delivering vicious kicks to your lower abdomen, over and over again.
"Draco . . . please . . ." you manage to rasp.
"Shut UP! Just shut UP Potter, for once in your life, shut UP! I love HIM! Not you, it'll NEVER be you! You CAN'T change that, you idiot, you CAN'T!" I yell, punctuating each hollered word by backhanding you across the face. I knee you in the stomach, then ruthlessly grab your hair, and bash your head against the wall.
Blood.
Beautiful red-brown blood. Blood, flowing down the side of the wall, blood, flowing down the side of your face. I slam your head against the wall again, desperate to draw more blood. I keep smashing that head of yours, with those green eyes of yours now closed, against the hard wall, again and again and again.
I eventually let go of your body, letting you fall to the floor.
There's blood trickling out of your mouth.
Blood everywhere.
Blood on the wall, on the floor, on your body . . . and on my hands.
I kneel down next to you, putting my fingers on your neck gently.
There is no pulse.
I sigh.
"I knew you'd picked the wrong person to fall in love with. But did you listen to me, Potter? No." I quietly tell you.
I stand up.
I look at your lifeless body once more.
I allow an insane smile to softly graze my features.
Father will be so proud.
~~~~~~~~~~~Someone Else~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What the . . .?" you start, clearly not getting it. Your eyes suddenly widen in realization. "No . . ." you whisper softly. "No. No no no! You can't be serious! You //can't// be!" you cry.
And why on earth NOT, Potter? Just because you've never had someone love you doesn't mean that you can assume what it feels like and start criticizing me about it.
My expression seems to give my thoughts away.
"Because it's sick. It's sick, and it's . . . it's WRONG!" you cry, eyes somewhat glistening.
Anger starts to fill me.
"Don't you dare talk about what you don't know, Potter!" I snap.
Your eyes widen again.
"It's true, isn't it? You . . . you . . . you live in some twisted world where you're obsessed with . . . with your own father," you say, green eyes still wide in wonderment.
"It's not an obsession," I sneer. I smile maniacally again. "It's love," I say dreamily, thinking of him.
"No. No, no, Draco, it isn't, it //isn't// love. Look, whatever Lucius has made you believe, it is //not// love, he doesn't love or care for anybody, he //can't//!" you cry, desperately trying to get me to change my mind. As if I can do that.
All your little speech does is make me all the more angry, you insolent little brat.
"How dare you! How dare you even //assume// that you know what sort of relationship me and Lucius have! He loves me! He does, I //know// he does!" I hiss.
"You don't have a //relationship//!" you spit. "What you //have// is some wacko spell on you, to amuse Lucius's twisted little mind!" you spit.
Before I can control myself, I strike you across the face. How DARE you talk about my father that way? How dare you say he has a twisted mind? You're the twisted one, Potter, what with your heroic morals, and your heroic abilities, and your simple heroic-ness! It's all YOUR fault that I had to COME to Hogwarts in the first place, JUST to keep an eye on you.
If Voldemort had killed you the first time, I could've been staying at home with him, but NO. You just had to keep getting lucky.
You look at me, holding the side of your face, which is becoming quite red, and I bet my eyes are blazing in anger.
"Bastard," I spit quietly.
"He //doesn't// love you," you say, dropping down to your knees. You move forward, staring up at my face with those too-bright green eyes of yours. "He //doesn't//, OK? He's just playing with your //mind//, Draco. He's making you //believe// that he loves you, and that you love him, when neither of you really love each other!" you say quietly, in a pleading sort of voice.
To your surprise, I hit you across the face again.
"You complete and utter BASTARD. Of //course// he loves me. Why else would he-" I cut myself off, drifting into my sweet memories. "Why else would he make love to me? Then hit me. Make me cry. Then kiss away my tears. And fuck me again," I whisper, that same smile appearing on my face again.
I look down at you.
I see hurt and disbelief in your eyes.
"No." you start shaking your head. "No, no, NO! It's NOT true! Draco, can't you see that he doesn't love you, not one bit, not at //all//! Why else would he hurt you?" you ask quietly, in that pleading voice again.
I stare down at you coldly, trying to bore holes through your eyes with my gaze.
"You can't have true love without hurt," I say icily.
"Draco . . . Draco, please. Please, just //listen// to yourself. You're in love with your own //father//. And you . . . he . . . he //hurts// you, he does things that people aren't supposed to do," you say quietly, still on your knees, a bruise forming on your cheek.
"Potter, don't you think I //know// that? That's what makes our love . . . unique," I say, drifting off into sweet memories again.
I quickly shake myself out of my reverie and look down at you.
"Draco, look, I'm on my //knees// for you, I'm //begging// you to-" you start, but I cut you off.
"To fuck you? It's not the first time," I sneer. "I'm going home for the Christmas holidays. I'll be leaving to see him tomorrow," I say coldly.
You shake your head, slowly at first, then quicker.
"No." you say. "No, I will NOT let you go back to that . . . that . . . that cold-hearted evil MONSTER!" you yell.
Before you know what's happening, my foot connects with your stomach, leaving you winded.
"How dare you, Potter?" I ask quietly, venom dripping from every syllable. "How DARE YOU CALL HIM THAT?" I roar, savagely punching you across the face. You gasp softly in surprise. I punch you again. Blood spurts out of your nose, but I don't care. I keep hitting you across the face, then I kick you in the stomach again, making you drop onto the cold stone floor.
You manage to look at me amongst all the blood on your face. I see that you are crying. Do I care? No. You bastard. You deserve everything I've done to you. And everything I'm going to do . . .
With that, I smile manically, and kick you in the stomach again. I keep delivering vicious kicks to your lower abdomen, over and over again.
"Draco . . . please . . ." you manage to rasp.
"Shut UP! Just shut UP Potter, for once in your life, shut UP! I love HIM! Not you, it'll NEVER be you! You CAN'T change that, you idiot, you CAN'T!" I yell, punctuating each hollered word by backhanding you across the face. I knee you in the stomach, then ruthlessly grab your hair, and bash your head against the wall.
Blood.
Beautiful red-brown blood. Blood, flowing down the side of the wall, blood, flowing down the side of your face. I slam your head against the wall again, desperate to draw more blood. I keep smashing that head of yours, with those green eyes of yours now closed, against the hard wall, again and again and again.
I eventually let go of your body, letting you fall to the floor.
There's blood trickling out of your mouth.
Blood everywhere.
Blood on the wall, on the floor, on your body . . . and on my hands.
I kneel down next to you, putting my fingers on your neck gently.
There is no pulse.
I sigh.
"I knew you'd picked the wrong person to fall in love with. But did you listen to me, Potter? No." I quietly tell you.
I stand up.
I look at your lifeless body once more.
I allow an insane smile to softly graze my features.
Father will be so proud.