A/N- This is my first songfic, my second fan fic ever. I was listening to Linkin Park's newest C.D. Meteora, and heard this song and immediately thought of Draco. A warning, this story does not have a happy ending. Its very very angsty, no fluff, no romance, none of that, unlike my other fic. So R&R and let me know what you think! Rated PG-13 for self-violence, and well, just violence I think. No language as far as I can remember. Well I think I've blabbed on enough for anyone. I shall continue!
Disclaimer- I don't own the books or the characters, Rowling does, I don't own the song Linkin Park does. As much as I'd love to take the credit for the books and characters, and I'd love to own Linkin Park, sadly, I don't have that power. I can only claim the plot! Moving right along….
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Exhausted Draco lay on his bedroom floor, surrounded by blood, thinking back to earlier that day.
Lucius had found a letter from Dumbledore in Draco's desk, figuring out what Draco had been keeping from him since the 6th term had ended. Draco was a spy for Dumbledore, working against Voldemort. Lucius had lost his temper, his son was a traitor, and against him, his own father! Lucius was roaring at him, inbetween blows to Draco's head from a vase that didn't want to break.
"HOW-DARE-YOU! -YOU-UN-GRATE-FUL-IN-GRATE-AFTER-EVERYTHING I GAVE YOU-YOU-CHOSE TO REPAY ME-LIKE THIS? -BY BEING-A-TRAITOR-AND-COMPROMISING-MY-MASTER-AND-I?" (a/n- assume that each "-" is a hit from the vase…) Lucius hit him a few more times, then raised the vase menacingly. Draco whimpered and curled into a tighter ball on the polished floor.
"Well? Speak up boy!" He hit him a few more times, then raised the vase again and stared into Draco's eyes.
"I-I-" Draco tried to think through his pain, but couldn't think of a lie quick enough. A final blow from the vase interrupted his unconvincing stuttering. The vase shattered over Draco's bloody body.
"Enough! I've heard enough from you!" Lucius took Draco by his shirt collar, and dragged him up to Draco's room, which was now stripped bare of any and all furniture and decoration. His normally warm room, had no fire in the fireplace, and no rugs or blanket of any kind. Draco could only assume that his wardrobe was cleaned out as well. He was thrown into the room and landed with a thick 'thud' in the middle of the cold room.
Lucius withdrew his wand from a pocket in his robes. "Avada Kedarva!" cried the elder Malfoy. He muttered "Stupid boy…" and laughed at his sons limp, unmoving body before him. He turned on his heel, slammed and locked the door behind him, telling the house elves to stay out of the room until further notice.
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Draco's pale body was so used to the many curses his father had practiced on him before, that Draco was merely knocked out by the curse. An hour later, Draco had awoken covered in dried blood, with his face to the floor. He went through everything he could remember, his fathers' accusations, and how he had always blamed everything in the world on Draco. This time it was actually Draco's fault, and he knew it.
The silvery-eyed mage slowly rose to his feet, and looked around the dimly lit room. A few torches were slowly burning on the walls of his room. They were the only remarkable features left, save the unlit fireplace to his right.
Draco's thoughts stopped when he looked at the fireplace. He suddenly remembered something, and moved towards the fireplace, his head was pounding and he felt extremely dizzy. A cold breeze was coming through the fireplace; the lack of heat pushing the air up through the chimney let a cold wind travel into his room and surround him. He removed a black brick from the wall next to the fireplace and looked inside the hollowed area. He had been told to put anything useful in there, just in case, by Dumbledore.
Draco reached his hand in and pulled out its contents: the letters from Dumbledore, other members of the Order, Death Eaters, and Voldemort himself. There was also an elegant eagle quill, a bottle of black ink, a few unused rolls of parchment, his wand, some owl food, and what he had been looking for: a small blood-stained knife.
Draco moved his sleeve up his left arm with his right hand, picked up the knife, and drew the blade down his already cut flesh, opening all previous cuts as well.
Memories consume,
Like opening the wound,
I'm picking me apart again
He couldn't feel the pain anymore; he couldn't feel the warm blood running down his arm, the cold wind whipping at his face and hands, the tears running down his face, he couldn't feel anything anymore. Dumbledore had told him to "beware of his father" and to "stay alert and alive". 'Yeah, sure, that's gonna happen.' Draco had thought when he had read it. Looking back, he realized he had only barely accomplished one thing. Staying alive.
You all assume,
I'm safe here in my room,
[Unless I try to start again]
'I'm stuck here' Draco thought bitterly. 'If I try to leave, he'll surely kill me this time. I could tell him I've come to my senses and his beating did some good…. No he wouldn't believe that! Voldemort will have every Death Eater this side of London looking for me, what with my father telling him everything…. Wait! He's the problem. My father…' Draco glanced at his wand and then to the knife. "I just need to get rid of him." Draco said in a small whisper, barely louder than the wind.
I don't want to be the one,
The battles always choose,
'Cause inside I realize,
I'm the one confused
Draco's thoughts shifted to the three people who were his long time enemies. Hermione 'Mudblood' Granger, Ron 'Weasel' Weasley, and Harry 'Pothead', 'Scar-face', 'Potty' Potter. He had insulted them too many times for anyone to possible count. He had secretly wanted their friendship, to join their side, to have their trust, but all he had done was insult them and push them further away. Well that was before he realized what his father truly was, but the Dream Team still had problems with Draco. Everyone hates Draco because of his last name, and the way he acted, which neither he could control.
I don't know what worth fighting for,
Or why I have to scream,
I don't know why I instigate,
And say what I don't mean,
I don't know how I got this way,
I know it's not alright,
So I'm,
Breaking the habit,
I'm breaking the habit,
Tonight
Draco pocketed his wand, and put the knife in his left hand. Slowly Draco made his way to the door. His body aching everywhere, his legs were barely carrying him across the room. He opened his door slowly and glanced into the hallway. Draco immediately spotted his father giving orders to a group of house elves, with his back oh so conveniently faced away from Draco.
The blonde teen quietly moved towards the group, removing his want from his pocket with his free hand as he walked. A few of the house elves noticed Draco and he promptly shook his head and pointed towards their elder master with his left hand, the one with the knife. The elves understood perfectly, much to the contrary of what his father said, house elves are very intelligent creatures. They looked back up to Lucius and listened to his words.
Lucius never saw it fit to look the house elves in the eye, as they weren't considered equals to him. He was looking over their heads at a velvet painting of a green snake and a silver snake twined together with jewels surrounding them framed in silver. (a/n- I saw some velvet paintings at a fair this weekend. They paint the pictures on black velvet. As for the snakes, I wonder what the colors stand for? hehe)
"…and when you finish that, sweep up the glass from the formal dining room, we'll need the room tonight for our guests. Make preparations for the dinner. Burn the parchment on the desk in the office on the second floor…" Lucius droned on, and Draco tuned him out, focusing at the task at hand.
When Draco was about 10 feet away from Lucius he rose his wand and whispered "Stupefy!" catching the usually alert man surprised and vulnerable. The house elves scattered with high-pitched squeaks as Lucius fell to the ground where they were standing. Draco again pocketed his wand, moved the knife to his right hand and walked to the fallen figure.
Draco stepped over the body, then bent down and rolled it over. He ran the blade across the mans neck, cutting a deep gash in the flawless pale skin, causing a pool of crimson blood to pour out. He tore his fathers black shirt open with the bloody knife and looked down, wondering where to start. 'What the hell.' He thought, and decided to rip the man apart. He took the knife, and rammed it through his heart. Draco laughed. He had almost expected to hear ice cracking.
He slowly ran the blade across the pale skin forming the words 'I hate you' on his stomach. On the last word he pushed the blade in again. He pulled it out, and forced it into another untouched spot. Draco had finally had enough and started randomly thrusting the blade into the Death Eaters body. After a few minutes of this Draco abruptly stopped, and rose, the blade in his hand.
He looked down and almost threw up when he saw the body of the man he had once idolized. Blood was splattered over everything in sight, including the house elves, who hadn't moved. 'I'm the new master of this house now, everything's mine… including their lives' He added, looking at the small figures before him. Draco took his fathers clothes off until he was only in his knickers. He gathered the clothing into his arms and stood up. He tossed a piece of clothing to each house elf, and seeing there wasn't enough for all, took his socks and shirt off and threw those to the remaining three. The house elves all stared at him like he was a pig that had just sprouted wings and shouted, "Look at me! I'm a Golden Snitch!"
"Get out!" Draco demanded, meaning to yell it, but it only came out as a soft whisper. "Go!" he said it a little louder than last time and they all nodded at him. One by one they thanked him and disappeared, until finally Draco was alone, covered in blood. Or he thought he was alone. The popping of the elves had called someone unexpected up to him. A high pitched scream filled his ears. He turned around to see who had made the un-human noise and found himself facing his mother, who was standing by the entrance to his bedroom.
"You." She spat the word like it was something filthy out of a sewer. He walked towards her, holding the blade out in from of him, his eyes cold as ice.
"Move." He warned in a menacing whisper. She whimpered, knowing he wouldn't hesitate to hurt her, after looking at what he had done to her husband. The blonde woman moved against a wall and her son walked past her into his room, leaving a dead man, a crushed woman, and a crimson trail in his wake.
Clutching my cure,
I tightly lock the door,
I try to catch my breath again,
I hurt much more,
Than anytime before,
I had no options left again.
I don't want to be the one,
The battles always choose,
'Cause inside I realize,
I'm the one confused.
I don't know what's worth fighting for,
Or why I have to scream,
I don't know why I instigate,
And say what I don't mean,
I don't know how I got this way,
I'll never be alright,
So I'm,
Breaking the habit,
I'm breaking the habit,
Tonight.
Draco leaned against the door, breathing heavily. He dropped the knife to the ground, removed the wand from his pocket and dropped it on the knife, causing them to make a noise so loud that Draco jumped. Still against the door, Draco shrank down to the floor, drawing his knees up to his chin. 'Even if I manage to get out, and contact someone from the Order without getting killed, they'll surely send me to Azkaban for what I did out there.' After a few minutes of staring at the cold fireplace he added, 'Dumbledore wouldn't even be able to get me out of this mess, I'm as good as dead.'
He nodded moved over to the small pile of items in the middle of his room. He took his ink, quill, and a piece of parchment and settled against the door again. He wiped his hands on his pants, trying to remove as much blood as possible, with no luck; his pants were completely coated in blood. He sighed and started writing with a shaky hand, smearing the ink due to lack of a proper surface to write on.
-Dumbledore-
My father found your last letter, got angry (surprise, surprise), and tried to kill me with an unforgivable curse. Three guesses of which one. I ended up killing him; hence the blood spots on the letter. I really had no other choice. I got a heart full of pain, head full of stress, handful of anger held in my chest. Uphill struggle, blood sweat and tears, nothing to gain and everything to fear. I don't want to be the one the battles always choose, cause inside I realize I'm the one confused. I don't know what's worth fighting for, or why I have to scream. I don't know why I instigate or say what I don't mean. I don't know how I got this way, I know its not alright, so I'm breaking the habit, tonight. I've got nothing to go to and nothing left and I don't know what to do…
-Malicious Dragon-
He signed his code name and looked at the parchment. The young Slytherin didn't know why he wrote those words that had been going through his head, he just did. He opened one of the windows and whistled for his eagle to come. He attached the parchment and told him to take it to Dumbledore.
Draco looked at the knife, and something his dad had said echoed through his mind; "No one on the other side would care about you. You'd a Death Eaters son and they all know it. You'd be more loved if you died" He looked down at the knife and agreed with his father, they would love him more if he died. Draco picked it up and moved it through his fingers studying it as he had many times before, then took it to each wrist and cut them open. He leaned against the door and shrank to the floor again, enjoying the pain he was feeling. After a few minutes everything went black, and Draco Malfoy knew no more.
I'll paint it on the wall,
'Cause I'm the one at fault,
I'll never fight again,
And this is how it ends.
I don't know what's worth fighting for,
Or why I have to scream,
But now I have some clarity,
To show you what I mean,
I don't know how I got this way,
I'll never be alright,
So I'm,
Breaking the habit,
I'm breaking the habit,
I'm breaking the habit,
Tonight.
A/n- So there it is. The part in Draco's letter to Dumbledore where he says "I got a heart full of pain, head full of stress, handful of anger held in my chest. Uphill struggle, blood sweat and tears, nothing to gain and everything to fear." That's from the song Nobody's Listening which is also by Linkin Park. I love those lyrics so I just had to add them in there somewheres. So please please R&R! I just might add another chapter, it wont be a songfic, but I might make one!!!!! (the html crap is still bein screwy, so I have to keep deleting it and fixing it. I still don't know if I got it right.)
