Disclaimer: I don't own anything that has to do with Harry Potter. The End.
A/N- The song I chose for this chapter is more about Ron's life than anything else, though the chapter does feature Draco. I won't bother you with the whole song this time either.
My Immortal By Evanescence
I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fear
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you screamed I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hands through all of these years,
But you still have all of me.
A/N- That's only part of the song, but I didn't think it was necessary to type the rest. You are always free to listen to the songs yourself.
It had been three weeks since Draco had last spoken to the women formerly known as his mother. He assumed she was waiting for the right opportunity for his escape.
"It's about time she does something for me. It will certainly be the only time," he thought bitterly.
Of course, this didn't matter to Draco, for he was determined to leave Malfoy Manor, with or without his mother's aid.
In all actuality, Draco Malfoy was scared. He was not scared of the actual escape. He was well aware of the deadly consequence of his actions if he were to be caught. No, the actual escape did not frighten him in the least. It was what he would do after his escape that still eluded him. Up until recently, he had never thought past the safe house his "mother" was preparing. Now, the thought of his future was haunting him night and day.
"Anywhere will be better than this bloody hell hole…even the fucking muggle world. Maybe I'll contact one of those gits from…"
Even as Draco thought about contacting one of his former housemates, he realized how utterly ridiculous that idea was.
Draco had no real friends, and trusted his housemates about as much as he trusted his father…none at all. The Slytherins of his year, beside himself of course, had no honor. Draco thought he could feel Salazar Slytherin turn in his grave as he witnessed what the Slytherin House had been reduced to. Slytherin was no longer a house of respectable and powerful purebloods. Slytherin House was just a breeding ground for little death eaters who have all the honor and grace of a Hufflepuff. Slytherins were nothing but loyal dogs to that ugly, albeit powerful, bastard Voldemort.
Thinking of his house had gotten Draco thinking about the school he had left only a short time ago. Being conceited as he was, Draco laughed as he remembered how he'd taunt members of other houses, especially Gryffindors. One Gryffindor stood out in his mind…Ronald Weasley.
Despite what every bloody retard at Hogwarts thought, Draco's true "arch nemesis" was not Potter at all, it was Weasley. It used to make Draco angry when everyone would automatically assume that he, Draco Malfoy, only tormented Weasley to get to Potter. It made Draco sick to know that the whole population of Hogwarts thought that he would place so much on the Boy who quite unfortunately lived.
This only fueled his hate for Potter. His hate for Potter was nothing like the contempt Draco felt for the redhead. When it came to Potter, Draco honestly wished him dead. Potter was merely one of those annoying bugs that could be ignored some of the time, but you still want dead none the less.
When it came to Weasley, Draco experienced an entirely different type of loathing. He barred his teeth at the mere thought of the redhead. The hate he felt toward the Gryffindor was one of the all-consuming variety. With Potter, there was no emotion. Most of the taunting he directed at Potter was just for show, but with Weasley, it was an entirely different experienced.
It always made his day when he managed arouse intense anger from Weasley. Not that this was very hard of course. He sort of enjoyed the fact that he had the power to arouse such emotion in someone. Maybe he was addicted to the amount of passion the redhead displayed when provoked.
When Draco actually took the time to analyze his contempt for Weasel, he always came to the same conclusion. He assumed that he loved to hate Weasley because Weasley brought out emotion within him. Of course, Draco never analyzed this emotion too thoroughly for fear of what he might discover.
"I wonder what that Weasel is doing right now. He's probably shagging Harry Pothead."
Here again, things always came back to Potter. Though he never really considered the Gryffindor his "rival," he could not and would not hide the fact that he loathed the mere mention of his name.
"Everything is always about Harry bloody Potter," Draco though angrily.
Draco never could understand what it was about Potter, besides the whole savior of the wizarding world thing, which seemingly drew people to the annoying Gryffindor. It was his personal opinion that Ron was far more interesting.
He could never understand for the life of him how Ron Weasley would, or could possibly be lost in the shadows. He was tall, passionate, and had all that bloody red hair. How could he possibly be ignored?
"He's a shade better looking than Potter too," came a response from somewhere deep within Draco's subconscious.
Before Draco had time to get angry at himself for that unbidden thought about Weasley, he was interrupted by a knock at his door.
"Who's there?" Draco called out gruffly.
"It is me Draco," came a soft reply from the other side of the door.
"What do you want 'Mother'?"
Narcissa Malfoy stood in the doorway, staring at her only son. She couldn't help but stare, for this would be the last time she really saw her son again.
"It's time, Draco," Narcissa said rather distantly.
"It's time?" Draco was not sure exactly what his mother was rambling on about.
"It's time." It was evident from the look on Draco's face that he understood exactly what his mother meant this time.
Ron walked down the cobblestone pathway that led to the Burrow, his childhood home. He left as soon as he'd graduated from Hogwarts. This was the first time since he'd left that he'd bother to go back.
"I can't stand to look at them," Ron thought bitterly to himself.
The "them" he referred to was Harry and Hermione. Ever since the trio had graduated from Hogwarts, Harry and Hermione had been living in seclusion at the Burrow. This would not have bothered Ron so much if Harry and Hermione weren't together.
For the short period of time that Ron had bothered to live with them, he would always have to excuse himself in their presence. The sight of them kissing each other, and touching each other made Ron sick to his stomach.
Ron thought that moving out, escaping to the muggle world might help him get over it, but, evidently, it hadn't. He still thought about her everyday. He remembered the way she smelled, the way she laughed, the way she smiled, the way she said his name…he still remembered, and loved everything about Hermione. He couldn't even look at any other women in a more than friendly way.
Beside his memories of Hermione, he was also haunted by the betrayal of his best friend. Everyone, especially Harry, knew of his feeling for Hermione. Harry was the one who sat up with him late at night while he talked about how beautiful she was, and how he wanted to be with her. Obviously, Harry was thinking the exact same thoughts, for at the start of their seventh year, Harry and Hermione began to date.
Ron couldn't help but think that his best friend had stolen the only thing in his life that had ever made him happy. Hermione had made Ron feel good.
"Harry always got everything anyway. Why should Hermione be any different?" Ron thought angrily.
The only reason why Ron hadn't completely abandoned Harry after he began to date Hermione was because he remembered all the good times he'd had with his best friend. No matter what happened, Harry would always be a brother to Ron. He just couldn't help but hold on to the memories of what they had…but seeing them together was torture.
He couldn't stand to look at Hermione. She was a constant reminder of all the things that he would never have, would never be. When Ron looked at his love, he knew that he would never have love or happiness…or attention.
Sometimes, Ron would daydream about what it must be like to be admired. He often imagined he was his "best friend," Harry Potter. He wanted what Harry had. He would be willing to risk it all, even his life to have the one thing he knew he would never have…Hermione.
The unfortunate thing was that Hermione had no idea how Ron felt about her, and Ron seriously doubted that she'd care if she did. She wouldn't care that no matter what she's done or how she's changed, she'd still have all of Ron.
Ron, lost in his own thoughts, didn't realize that he was standing at the front door of his childhood home until the door opened with Harry greeting him.
A/N- The next chapter, which will be coming far sooner than this one did, will have a little surprise in it. I thought I should make this chapter longer but it would ruin the effect of the next chapter if I didn't end this here.