Chapter III. The Closet

"What the hell is the matter with me?"

Draco was muttering under his breath, breath that left a smoky vapor as it escaped his mouth.

He was freezing, but paid little attention to the cold as he ran outside to the center grounds.

He had to get outside, to clear his mind.

To figure out what had just happened.

Over the last few days, ever since the night he had tried to jump from the tower, Draco had been remembering things, memories that didn't fit, memories that brought back pain, brought back tears...

Memories that were not his.

He had been walking from Potions to Transfigurations class, (perhaps "walking" was a bit strong, he had been up most of the night before, and was barely on his feet.) when he felt someone grab his arms on either side, the breath alone confirming their identities... Crabbe and Goyle.

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Goyle singsonged. "Not happy to see your two best friends?"

Draco hardly looked up. "I told you, I've got things on my mind. I just..."

"Want to be alone?" Crabbe taunted. "Fine.You can be alone as long as you want. As a matter of fact.." He grabbed the door handle of a tiny storage closet. Before Draco could react, Crabbe had him by the back of the cloak, and slammed into the minute space. "You can be alone for the rest of your miserable life for all we care." Goyle slammed the door shut with a sickening laugh. They knew about Draco's refusal to join the Death Eaters. Their fathers had made sure they knew they no longer had to bow down to the Malfoy progeny.

In their eyes, he was as good as dead.

Draco turned around to face the door, or at least what he thought was the door. It was pitch black. Bloody idiots, he thought. When I get out of here... "You will STAY in there you little..FREAK."

Draco was crying. He was holding the remains of a half crushed fairy cake, the only thing he had been allowed to have at...Dudley's party?

"Bu...but.. I want to play too!" Draco cried. He was so small. Curled up in the far corner of the little cot, he was engulfed by the too-big clothes, the ill-fitting glasses that slid off his face.

"You are through playing for today, boy! Do you have any IDEA what you did to our Dudley?"

Draco couldn't understand what he'd done. They were playing pin the tail on the donkey, and it was finally Draco's turn, after everyone else had already gone three times. While Draco had the blindfold on, Dudley had pushed him, kicked him, and finally knocked him down. All Draco knew was the tail he was holding floated out of his hand, and he heard Dudley scream bloody murder. He felt the horrible slap across his face, the blindfold torn from his eyes as he was dragged down the hall and thrown under the stairs.

Into the dark.

Uncle Vernon was furious with him, and he didn't understand why.

"Your parents were freaks, and you will always be a freak! You have RUINED Dudley's 5th birthday.!"

Draco pulled his legs against him, crying hysterically. "I'm...I'm so..rr..y," he cried.

"Too right you are," Uncle Vernon said quietly. "Oh,", he turned back to the door. "You'd best make that fairy cake last, Potter. It's all you will get for the rest of the day."

"Alohomora."

"What..?" Draco stumbled out of the closet to see Professor McGonagall. "You were lucky I walked out of class when I did, Mr. Malfoy. Seems your "friends" tried to put an unbreakable locking spell on the door. " Draco blinked. He was..actually...crying?

What was going on?

"Are you alright, Mr. Malfoy?" McGonagall asked.

"I..I don't know." He stammered. "I just...I.."

Draco bolted, running through the crowded school hall.

He had to get outside.

End of Chapter III.