(A/N: Sorry this has taken so long. I started school and volleyball a
while back, and my time has been cut short for a variety of other reasons,
such as work, being class president [damn the fundraising thing!], and my
social life [yes, I do have one!]. So thanks for all your patience!
Here's the next chapter, now!)
Chapter Fourteen
Chills ran up and down my spine, as the sound of the soft voice calling my name echoed around inside my empty head. Like a hot knife through butter, the words melted through my skull, penetrating my mind.
"Mister Malfoy?"
I could hear the voice still, but it seemed fuzzier, and distant. But that voice didn't matter. Someone, be it Circe or Snape, was there to tell me off, and ask me what I had heard. Then they could probably find a way to exploit me, for their own benefit. After all, that seemed to be my use in life. I was just another rich kid, whose parents could get what they wanted, through me.
"What do you want?" I snapped hastily, just in time to look up at the politely bewildered face of Circe, who was knelt beside me, poised to give me a good shake, to bring me back to a physical reality. Her hazel green eyes were looking straight at me; I could see my reflection in them. Shards of black hair fell neatly into her face, and she wasted no time in brushing them back, before she righted herself and offered me a solitaire hand to take.
Grudgingly, my own pale hand met hers, and she smoothly pulled me to my feet. I felt as if I could barely support myself. I turned my head down, to look straight at my feet. The pride that was left in me felt ashamed that I had been caught eavesdropping, on an Enchantress, at that. Her affairs were to be kept private.
"Curiosity is a natural instinct, Mister Malfoy," Circe said smoothly, as if she had read my thoughts. "I do not blame you for hearing whatever you happened to hear, and will not punish you, or deduct points from your house."
I had a distinct feeling she was saying this to make me feel better, because it was obvious that I was in an outwardly depressive mood. Very slowly, I turned my gaze upward, to meet Circe's. She looked unnaturally kind, unlike I had ever seen her before. The hardened look she usually bore in class, when she easily cursed us during training with wandless magic had disappeared, and she looked rather like my mother, on a good day.
"So is it true, then?" I forced myself to ask, feeling suddenly as if one of the huge weights on my chest had been lifted. "Is it true that I'm only a pawn on the chessboard of life, there only so everyone can use me?"
Circe pursed her lips for a moment, before she replied, carefully choosing her words. "It may seem that way, Mister Malfoy, but there is so much that you do not yet realize," she said slowly. I could tell she was not satisfied with the way she had worded her thoughts. "You don't quite know just how special you are, Draco."
Thoughts of annoyance popped into my head as I thought of what came to mind when I heard the word, "Special." The Special Education classes such as Remedial Potions that Hogwarts offered popped into mind, straight away. Was I special in a way that implied that I was a mental case, and needed to be looked upon with caution, as the world saw Harry Potter? Was I a maniac?
"Mister Malfoy," Circe said softly. "You have not comprehended me completely," her misty voice sent chills up my spine. "Sometimes, being different can be a good thing. And you have to realize that being loved comes from reasons other than being used. Your parents have raised you your whole life, Draco. They do love you, though you may not see it."
Deep in Circe's emerald eyes, a dim spot seemed pronounced. She was not shining with that cruel streak that I had always seen any longer. She was just as lonely as I was. As Snape was. And she knew nothing about it. Nothing. She had never loved anyone. She only loved herself, and that had left her hollow.
"And how would you know?" I snapped, before my brain could halt my vocal response. "Have you ever loved anyone?"
The lighting seemed to flicker, as Circe's mouth opened the slightest bit. I supported my own weight and pulled myself to my feet, staring down at her, as she looked up at me, taken completely aback. It was as if the sound of my voice was still echoing off the walls, drumming a solemn beat into my ears.
"Stop trying to fix me," I hissed, feeling anger rising in my chest like hot air. "I'm not broken."
And without waiting for a response from Circe I turned on my heels and ran at full speed, as far away as I could get.
~*~
A warm ray of orange sunlight had cast itself upon me, warming my skin, and illuminating the scenery around me. The red-orange ball was starting to fall in the west, beyond the massive structure of the Hogwarts Castle. Off the glassy lake, the dimming lights cascaded over the waters, as the lights from the windows of Hogwarts flickered on. Near the Forbidden Forest, a slight breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees, as smoke rose from Hagrid's hut.
Everything felt as if it had been pasted there so suddenly, as if it were ripped out from a picturesque magazine, telling you how life should have been. The scenery was telling me that I should be smiling, and sharing the evening with someone I loved; someone that cared for me in return. But what was wanted of my company? I was just used as a vent for someone to frustrate anger through. I was a pincushion for the sharp pins of life.
I took in a breath of the warm, fresh air. Summer was nearing, as were the O.W.L. exams. And still, I had not studied. I had moped and wallowed in my sorrow, feeling sympathy for no one but my own sad self. And I had stunned myself, leaving myself both empty, wounded, and yet somehow, enlightened.
Yesterday I cried.
All the emotions inside of me, suppressed by childish fears, had broken the emotional damn inside of my chest, letting loose the flood. The remnants of painful memories had flashed so vividly before my eyes, as hot tears leaked from my eyes, flowing freely down my cheeks.
In the solitude of the Quidditch field, long after practice was over, I, Draco Malfoy, had cried. Yet as foreign as it had seemed to me, I had expected the unexpected. The pain just seemed too real. No one was there to hold my hand, and no one was there to wipe away my tears. It was like it had always been, and always will be. Deep inside my mind, I kept a locked box with my darkest thoughts. Now I had tampered with the lock, and they were free. Free to pulse through my veins and make me feel awful.
And the worst part was that I couldn't tell anyone about it. I couldn't tell Crabbe and Goyle that I felt sad. I couldn't tell Cho Chang that I knew that she only liked me because I listened to her once. I couldn't tell Hermione Granger that I had enjoyed her company for one night. I couldn't tell father that I wanted him to leave me alone. I couldn't tell mother, no matter how much I wanted to, that I loved her.
Love was just a game that we all played. Love is for the benefit of oneself, rather than others. Mother was happy that she had a son, to carry on the name of Malfoy, as well as brining pride to the remnants of the Black family. Father had a son to carry on his name, in his separate, dark world.
But what did I have?
Someone had to get the short end of the stick. In this case, it was me.
~*~
"Very good Mister Malfoy," a raspy, hollow voice rapped into my morbid thoughts. "You've chopped your Newt bladders perfectly. They'll make for the perfect Elusion Potion!"
I nodded, as the ancient fossil, Professor Marchbanks, inspected my Elusion Potion. Despite my lack of studying, the Potions exam, at least, was going quite well. The amber liquid in my cauldron was exactly as it was supposed to be, unlike the bubbling acid green smoke that was rising from Goyle's cauldron.
The whole hall was alight with many colors of smoke and steam, as some people muttered to themselves under their breath. It was finally O.W.L. exam time, and I had found myself in the fuzzy reality of it all, absently chopping up ingredients to my potion like it was an everyday task. Near me, Hermione Granger mutter incessantly to herself, in a secure, arrogant sort of way. Her potion was just as amber as mine was; yet not the slightest bit of smoke was tapering from her pot.
"Damn her," I muttered to myself, before adding the essence of Murlap. Even in an area that I was supposed to be good at, I would always be outdone.
I let the now-golden liquid simmer lightly, before turning the wooden spoon I held three times in a clockwise circle, then removing it and letting the excess shining liquid drip from the edges.
"Time!" Professor Marchbanks rasped moments later, and I heard frantic clutter amongst the students. Several were cursing under their breath. "Your potion should now be a golden fluid solution, and shall be tested later. Please return to your Common rooms, as the hall is cleared, and everything is taken into accordance."
Great. Off to the common room to mope even more. It seemed that was all there was to my life these days.
~*~
Enveloped by a feigned darkness, I gasped for breath and felt around me for the solid ground. My fingertips felt the cold, hard stone floor, groping for something to grip. I felt as if I were about to slide off the face of the Earth, forever falling into a pit of darkness.
A sharp gust of air took my little breath away, leaving me groping and gasping for fresh air, as my hands moved wildly around, trying desperately to grip the solid stone. As if I had hit a hidden button, the floor lurched, and I felt myself falling downward, into the endless darkness, being engulfed.
My innards felt as if they were being played with by a child; being twisted and turned every which way, pulled at and groped at with rough hands. Everything was tense, and my hands could no longer try and secure a spot for me; there was nothing to be secure of. A lurching inside of my heart willed it to beat faster, as I felt like a bomb was ticking inside of me, getting closer and closer to the detonation time.
Then with a sickening thud, I hit was I supposed was a floor, and my eyes fluttered open to see that there was a dim light illuminating a small table, which was surrounded with two chairs. Confused, I willed my muscles to support me enough to sit up, feeling hazed and sickened.
I was sure I had imagined it, but suddenly, a blonde woman, tall and fair, had materialized in one of the chairs. Her face bore a loose, compassionate expression, as she looked solemnly at her feet, with a look of slight determination fixed in her hollow blue eyes. Whisps of hair fell in her face, shadowing it, making her look as if she were wasting away.
"But Lucius," She whispered, and my eyes immediately flickered to the other side of the table, where a man was standing.
He held his head high in the air, as a serpentine staff in his right hand wavered slowly in front of the woman's face. Sleek, blonde hair was neatly smoothed back, as if the hairs on his head dared not go out of place. A stern expression was plastered on his pointed, long face, as he pursed his thin lips and looked at the woman.
"Narcissa, I have told you, the boy is turning out to be useful in other ways," he hissed, his low voice barely a whisper. "Incompetent though he is, I am glad that you kept him alive. But you have been proving to become more, and more of a nuisance, as the years roll by. You have-"
"NO!"
Poised to strike, on the end of my father's staff, the serpent suddenly fell limp. Two heads turned, directly at me, as my firm, rebellious voice echoed off the walls. The two faces, both taken aback, started to spin into a blur of colors, fading slowly away, into memory.
"No," I whispered.
What was past, now, and what was present?
Everything was real. And I could not change the past, but I could certainly change the future.
"Yes," the words rolled off my tongue pleasurably.
And in the distance, I heard the faint click of a door unlocking.
~*~
(A/N: Sorry, I apologize for the piecey-ness of this chapter. I am still on a severe case of writer's block, and school, volleyball, friends, boyfriend, family, and other aspects of my life are taking my time, away.
Well, what did you think of that chapter. It wasn't the way I wanted to write it, but I forced myself to get it done.
Ahem, so, sorry it took so long, for you to only read repetition of things that you may have think already happened.
Tell me what you think, anyway. Anyone have constructive criticism they can offer? That would be greatly appreciated!
--Clayr)
Chapter Fourteen
Chills ran up and down my spine, as the sound of the soft voice calling my name echoed around inside my empty head. Like a hot knife through butter, the words melted through my skull, penetrating my mind.
"Mister Malfoy?"
I could hear the voice still, but it seemed fuzzier, and distant. But that voice didn't matter. Someone, be it Circe or Snape, was there to tell me off, and ask me what I had heard. Then they could probably find a way to exploit me, for their own benefit. After all, that seemed to be my use in life. I was just another rich kid, whose parents could get what they wanted, through me.
"What do you want?" I snapped hastily, just in time to look up at the politely bewildered face of Circe, who was knelt beside me, poised to give me a good shake, to bring me back to a physical reality. Her hazel green eyes were looking straight at me; I could see my reflection in them. Shards of black hair fell neatly into her face, and she wasted no time in brushing them back, before she righted herself and offered me a solitaire hand to take.
Grudgingly, my own pale hand met hers, and she smoothly pulled me to my feet. I felt as if I could barely support myself. I turned my head down, to look straight at my feet. The pride that was left in me felt ashamed that I had been caught eavesdropping, on an Enchantress, at that. Her affairs were to be kept private.
"Curiosity is a natural instinct, Mister Malfoy," Circe said smoothly, as if she had read my thoughts. "I do not blame you for hearing whatever you happened to hear, and will not punish you, or deduct points from your house."
I had a distinct feeling she was saying this to make me feel better, because it was obvious that I was in an outwardly depressive mood. Very slowly, I turned my gaze upward, to meet Circe's. She looked unnaturally kind, unlike I had ever seen her before. The hardened look she usually bore in class, when she easily cursed us during training with wandless magic had disappeared, and she looked rather like my mother, on a good day.
"So is it true, then?" I forced myself to ask, feeling suddenly as if one of the huge weights on my chest had been lifted. "Is it true that I'm only a pawn on the chessboard of life, there only so everyone can use me?"
Circe pursed her lips for a moment, before she replied, carefully choosing her words. "It may seem that way, Mister Malfoy, but there is so much that you do not yet realize," she said slowly. I could tell she was not satisfied with the way she had worded her thoughts. "You don't quite know just how special you are, Draco."
Thoughts of annoyance popped into my head as I thought of what came to mind when I heard the word, "Special." The Special Education classes such as Remedial Potions that Hogwarts offered popped into mind, straight away. Was I special in a way that implied that I was a mental case, and needed to be looked upon with caution, as the world saw Harry Potter? Was I a maniac?
"Mister Malfoy," Circe said softly. "You have not comprehended me completely," her misty voice sent chills up my spine. "Sometimes, being different can be a good thing. And you have to realize that being loved comes from reasons other than being used. Your parents have raised you your whole life, Draco. They do love you, though you may not see it."
Deep in Circe's emerald eyes, a dim spot seemed pronounced. She was not shining with that cruel streak that I had always seen any longer. She was just as lonely as I was. As Snape was. And she knew nothing about it. Nothing. She had never loved anyone. She only loved herself, and that had left her hollow.
"And how would you know?" I snapped, before my brain could halt my vocal response. "Have you ever loved anyone?"
The lighting seemed to flicker, as Circe's mouth opened the slightest bit. I supported my own weight and pulled myself to my feet, staring down at her, as she looked up at me, taken completely aback. It was as if the sound of my voice was still echoing off the walls, drumming a solemn beat into my ears.
"Stop trying to fix me," I hissed, feeling anger rising in my chest like hot air. "I'm not broken."
And without waiting for a response from Circe I turned on my heels and ran at full speed, as far away as I could get.
~*~
A warm ray of orange sunlight had cast itself upon me, warming my skin, and illuminating the scenery around me. The red-orange ball was starting to fall in the west, beyond the massive structure of the Hogwarts Castle. Off the glassy lake, the dimming lights cascaded over the waters, as the lights from the windows of Hogwarts flickered on. Near the Forbidden Forest, a slight breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees, as smoke rose from Hagrid's hut.
Everything felt as if it had been pasted there so suddenly, as if it were ripped out from a picturesque magazine, telling you how life should have been. The scenery was telling me that I should be smiling, and sharing the evening with someone I loved; someone that cared for me in return. But what was wanted of my company? I was just used as a vent for someone to frustrate anger through. I was a pincushion for the sharp pins of life.
I took in a breath of the warm, fresh air. Summer was nearing, as were the O.W.L. exams. And still, I had not studied. I had moped and wallowed in my sorrow, feeling sympathy for no one but my own sad self. And I had stunned myself, leaving myself both empty, wounded, and yet somehow, enlightened.
Yesterday I cried.
All the emotions inside of me, suppressed by childish fears, had broken the emotional damn inside of my chest, letting loose the flood. The remnants of painful memories had flashed so vividly before my eyes, as hot tears leaked from my eyes, flowing freely down my cheeks.
In the solitude of the Quidditch field, long after practice was over, I, Draco Malfoy, had cried. Yet as foreign as it had seemed to me, I had expected the unexpected. The pain just seemed too real. No one was there to hold my hand, and no one was there to wipe away my tears. It was like it had always been, and always will be. Deep inside my mind, I kept a locked box with my darkest thoughts. Now I had tampered with the lock, and they were free. Free to pulse through my veins and make me feel awful.
And the worst part was that I couldn't tell anyone about it. I couldn't tell Crabbe and Goyle that I felt sad. I couldn't tell Cho Chang that I knew that she only liked me because I listened to her once. I couldn't tell Hermione Granger that I had enjoyed her company for one night. I couldn't tell father that I wanted him to leave me alone. I couldn't tell mother, no matter how much I wanted to, that I loved her.
Love was just a game that we all played. Love is for the benefit of oneself, rather than others. Mother was happy that she had a son, to carry on the name of Malfoy, as well as brining pride to the remnants of the Black family. Father had a son to carry on his name, in his separate, dark world.
But what did I have?
Someone had to get the short end of the stick. In this case, it was me.
~*~
"Very good Mister Malfoy," a raspy, hollow voice rapped into my morbid thoughts. "You've chopped your Newt bladders perfectly. They'll make for the perfect Elusion Potion!"
I nodded, as the ancient fossil, Professor Marchbanks, inspected my Elusion Potion. Despite my lack of studying, the Potions exam, at least, was going quite well. The amber liquid in my cauldron was exactly as it was supposed to be, unlike the bubbling acid green smoke that was rising from Goyle's cauldron.
The whole hall was alight with many colors of smoke and steam, as some people muttered to themselves under their breath. It was finally O.W.L. exam time, and I had found myself in the fuzzy reality of it all, absently chopping up ingredients to my potion like it was an everyday task. Near me, Hermione Granger mutter incessantly to herself, in a secure, arrogant sort of way. Her potion was just as amber as mine was; yet not the slightest bit of smoke was tapering from her pot.
"Damn her," I muttered to myself, before adding the essence of Murlap. Even in an area that I was supposed to be good at, I would always be outdone.
I let the now-golden liquid simmer lightly, before turning the wooden spoon I held three times in a clockwise circle, then removing it and letting the excess shining liquid drip from the edges.
"Time!" Professor Marchbanks rasped moments later, and I heard frantic clutter amongst the students. Several were cursing under their breath. "Your potion should now be a golden fluid solution, and shall be tested later. Please return to your Common rooms, as the hall is cleared, and everything is taken into accordance."
Great. Off to the common room to mope even more. It seemed that was all there was to my life these days.
~*~
Enveloped by a feigned darkness, I gasped for breath and felt around me for the solid ground. My fingertips felt the cold, hard stone floor, groping for something to grip. I felt as if I were about to slide off the face of the Earth, forever falling into a pit of darkness.
A sharp gust of air took my little breath away, leaving me groping and gasping for fresh air, as my hands moved wildly around, trying desperately to grip the solid stone. As if I had hit a hidden button, the floor lurched, and I felt myself falling downward, into the endless darkness, being engulfed.
My innards felt as if they were being played with by a child; being twisted and turned every which way, pulled at and groped at with rough hands. Everything was tense, and my hands could no longer try and secure a spot for me; there was nothing to be secure of. A lurching inside of my heart willed it to beat faster, as I felt like a bomb was ticking inside of me, getting closer and closer to the detonation time.
Then with a sickening thud, I hit was I supposed was a floor, and my eyes fluttered open to see that there was a dim light illuminating a small table, which was surrounded with two chairs. Confused, I willed my muscles to support me enough to sit up, feeling hazed and sickened.
I was sure I had imagined it, but suddenly, a blonde woman, tall and fair, had materialized in one of the chairs. Her face bore a loose, compassionate expression, as she looked solemnly at her feet, with a look of slight determination fixed in her hollow blue eyes. Whisps of hair fell in her face, shadowing it, making her look as if she were wasting away.
"But Lucius," She whispered, and my eyes immediately flickered to the other side of the table, where a man was standing.
He held his head high in the air, as a serpentine staff in his right hand wavered slowly in front of the woman's face. Sleek, blonde hair was neatly smoothed back, as if the hairs on his head dared not go out of place. A stern expression was plastered on his pointed, long face, as he pursed his thin lips and looked at the woman.
"Narcissa, I have told you, the boy is turning out to be useful in other ways," he hissed, his low voice barely a whisper. "Incompetent though he is, I am glad that you kept him alive. But you have been proving to become more, and more of a nuisance, as the years roll by. You have-"
"NO!"
Poised to strike, on the end of my father's staff, the serpent suddenly fell limp. Two heads turned, directly at me, as my firm, rebellious voice echoed off the walls. The two faces, both taken aback, started to spin into a blur of colors, fading slowly away, into memory.
"No," I whispered.
What was past, now, and what was present?
Everything was real. And I could not change the past, but I could certainly change the future.
"Yes," the words rolled off my tongue pleasurably.
And in the distance, I heard the faint click of a door unlocking.
~*~
(A/N: Sorry, I apologize for the piecey-ness of this chapter. I am still on a severe case of writer's block, and school, volleyball, friends, boyfriend, family, and other aspects of my life are taking my time, away.
Well, what did you think of that chapter. It wasn't the way I wanted to write it, but I forced myself to get it done.
Ahem, so, sorry it took so long, for you to only read repetition of things that you may have think already happened.
Tell me what you think, anyway. Anyone have constructive criticism they can offer? That would be greatly appreciated!
--Clayr)