Legal Jargon/ I own none of the characters but am keeping hold of the plot, considering I own it
/Legal Jargon
Conflict of Self
Chapter 2-Reflections
When he finally awoke the next morning, after the previous night's tension, Draco found the
Slytherin common room to be pleasantly quiet. Or not. Pleasant was not an entirely truthful
description. The mood was not dissimilar from the early hours of the day, in that it was seemingly
desolate, giving him time alone with his thoughts.
Time alone with his thoughts. This was the last thing that Draco needed. Time alone with his
tormentor. He couldn't take another minute of it. Perhaps it would be for the best if he just forgot
everything and went down to breakfast. Maybe filling the proverbial pit of his gut would move his
attentions to other, more worthy matters.
As he made his way down to the main hall, he let his mind slip, allowing rogue thoughts to
resume play in these horrendous mind games. His guard was down, the predator leapt, his mind
was engulfed.
Hungry Draco?
"Not you again," he mutter, intentionally letting his frustration show "Yes, I am hungry. What kind
of a question is that and more to the point, what is it to you anyway?" He scowled in annoyance at
the trivial questions.
-What is it that you hunger for? Answer me that. Answer me that one trivial question- came the
reply, reflecting on Draco's response.
"Food, you dolt," he thought to himself, forgetting the omni-present eye of the one with whom he
was conversing "I hunger after food. That's why I'm going to breakfast you nitwit!"
-Have some respect for me; I am still in the room you know! Dear, dear Draco, what on earth
would Lucius think?-
The guilt card was place on the table, leaving Draco with only one viable reply, one that he
foolishly took.
"Oh, terribly sorry to hear it," he snapped "I thought that father was not worthy of my respect"
Check mate. Draco was already nursing the wounds from that mistake. His own dual
consciousness had driven him into a dark, tight corner.
-I'm glad that you have come round to my way of thinking- the voice responded, evidently pleased
with itself. If the voice had a visible face, it would be easy to imagine its visage at this moment - a
twinkle in the eye, a smirk on the face, a look that Draco had all too often worn himself.
So what is it that you hunger for Draco?
Dare he? Dare he defy centuries of legacy? Dare he expose himself as nothing but an uncertain
fraud?
"Love. Peace of Mind. A bit of sanity." His mind was made up for him, the words speaking
themselves, his lips moving effortlessly. The healing had begun.
-Good Draco. Very good. Do you not see how easy it is? How is it that you could not see this from
an early age? Emotion makes a person. Lack of it can break a person. You, my dear boy, were
on the brink. Now that you have come in from the cold, I sense that the path will level out. The
struggle is yet to end, but end, it will.-
Emotion? An easier journey? Draco was overwhelmed. His consciousness was saturated with
what his father would have deemed fallacies, human propaganda for the feeble of mind. The
feeling warmed him inside but the warmth was hardly enough to burn a smile onto the cold, firm
Malfoy lips. The healing had begun, yes, but the road before him was long and arduous.
"I…" Draco stammered, "I think I understand"
-Good Draco. Good.-
The sound of his name being spoken sent Draco into a new level. A deeper level. A darker level.
How could life have been like that? How could everything been as it was before? How could the
excruciating torture that was life have existed when something this good had always been there?
Draco cursed his father for allowing it to happen. He cursed himself for allowing it to lie so
dormant. He cursed his mother for ever giving birth to his accursed self.
-Admittance is the first step on the road to recovery- the voice stated, a smile evident on its
imaginary face –now how about going and getting that breakfast you wanted?-
Draco rushed into the hall, rejuvenated by the thought of all that had gone on. Then…
"Malfoy." Potter had approached him. He had seen the smile. Hull breach. All systems down.
"Go to hell Potter"
A/N: Thanks to citrus scented and quicksilver fallen for those lovely reviews and sorry for selling
out the whole one track mind thing by letting Harry speak. That's probably the last he'll say for a
while (thankfully)
/Legal Jargon
Conflict of Self
Chapter 2-Reflections
When he finally awoke the next morning, after the previous night's tension, Draco found the
Slytherin common room to be pleasantly quiet. Or not. Pleasant was not an entirely truthful
description. The mood was not dissimilar from the early hours of the day, in that it was seemingly
desolate, giving him time alone with his thoughts.
Time alone with his thoughts. This was the last thing that Draco needed. Time alone with his
tormentor. He couldn't take another minute of it. Perhaps it would be for the best if he just forgot
everything and went down to breakfast. Maybe filling the proverbial pit of his gut would move his
attentions to other, more worthy matters.
As he made his way down to the main hall, he let his mind slip, allowing rogue thoughts to
resume play in these horrendous mind games. His guard was down, the predator leapt, his mind
was engulfed.
Hungry Draco?
"Not you again," he mutter, intentionally letting his frustration show "Yes, I am hungry. What kind
of a question is that and more to the point, what is it to you anyway?" He scowled in annoyance at
the trivial questions.
-What is it that you hunger for? Answer me that. Answer me that one trivial question- came the
reply, reflecting on Draco's response.
"Food, you dolt," he thought to himself, forgetting the omni-present eye of the one with whom he
was conversing "I hunger after food. That's why I'm going to breakfast you nitwit!"
-Have some respect for me; I am still in the room you know! Dear, dear Draco, what on earth
would Lucius think?-
The guilt card was place on the table, leaving Draco with only one viable reply, one that he
foolishly took.
"Oh, terribly sorry to hear it," he snapped "I thought that father was not worthy of my respect"
Check mate. Draco was already nursing the wounds from that mistake. His own dual
consciousness had driven him into a dark, tight corner.
-I'm glad that you have come round to my way of thinking- the voice responded, evidently pleased
with itself. If the voice had a visible face, it would be easy to imagine its visage at this moment - a
twinkle in the eye, a smirk on the face, a look that Draco had all too often worn himself.
So what is it that you hunger for Draco?
Dare he? Dare he defy centuries of legacy? Dare he expose himself as nothing but an uncertain
fraud?
"Love. Peace of Mind. A bit of sanity." His mind was made up for him, the words speaking
themselves, his lips moving effortlessly. The healing had begun.
-Good Draco. Very good. Do you not see how easy it is? How is it that you could not see this from
an early age? Emotion makes a person. Lack of it can break a person. You, my dear boy, were
on the brink. Now that you have come in from the cold, I sense that the path will level out. The
struggle is yet to end, but end, it will.-
Emotion? An easier journey? Draco was overwhelmed. His consciousness was saturated with
what his father would have deemed fallacies, human propaganda for the feeble of mind. The
feeling warmed him inside but the warmth was hardly enough to burn a smile onto the cold, firm
Malfoy lips. The healing had begun, yes, but the road before him was long and arduous.
"I…" Draco stammered, "I think I understand"
-Good Draco. Good.-
The sound of his name being spoken sent Draco into a new level. A deeper level. A darker level.
How could life have been like that? How could everything been as it was before? How could the
excruciating torture that was life have existed when something this good had always been there?
Draco cursed his father for allowing it to happen. He cursed himself for allowing it to lie so
dormant. He cursed his mother for ever giving birth to his accursed self.
-Admittance is the first step on the road to recovery- the voice stated, a smile evident on its
imaginary face –now how about going and getting that breakfast you wanted?-
Draco rushed into the hall, rejuvenated by the thought of all that had gone on. Then…
"Malfoy." Potter had approached him. He had seen the smile. Hull breach. All systems down.
"Go to hell Potter"
A/N: Thanks to citrus scented and quicksilver fallen for those lovely reviews and sorry for selling
out the whole one track mind thing by letting Harry speak. That's probably the last he'll say for a
while (thankfully)