DISLAIMER:

All HP characters and the world of Hogwarts and its magic belong to JK Rowling. If it wasn't for her we would never have gotten to know its citizens. All non-HP characters are my own and so is the way this story is going to be written.

Author's Note:

I am NOT making any monetary profit from writing this story. Just pure self satisfaction. Draco Malfoy is my favorite character, next to Sirius Black. This most possibly never happen in the next two books, but this story is the fruition of my imagination and wishful thinking.

Brief Summary:

Everyone knew to be a heartless, cruel, and mean git. But that's all on the outside. No one knew the ireal/ Draco Malfoy. What would they think of him if he was to finally let himself free?

Behind Blue Eyes

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
No one knows what it's like
To be hated
To be fated
To telling only lies

But my dreams
They aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be

I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free

He slammed the door to his bedroom shut and leaned on it, sliding down to the floor with his hands in his hair. His mother had gone into another drinking stupor and he had to get away from her. He hated seeing her like that. He could not believe that she's crying for his father now. All he ever did to her was made her miserable. He thought that now that he'd been locked up in Azkaban that his mother would be happier. But he was wrong. He realized now that even though his father treated his mother with cruelty that she actually loved him. In her own way, she coped with his meanness and beatings throughout the years. He just could not help but feel more resentment towards the man that his mother loved even though he never made her happy.

His father brought him up to hate anyone that he thought was not worthy to be considered wizards in their world. Mostly Muggle-borns. His father hated all Muggles and taught his son to be just as hateful of them as he was. He did not like that, not one bit. But he had to put up with the façade or his mother would pay for any insolence.

Draco Malfoy hoisted himself up from the floor and walked to his bureau. He pulled out his journal and quill and sat on his bed. He leaned against the headboard and opened his journal. He dipped his quill into the inkbottle on his bedside table.

He thought about what had happened before the end of terms. How he participated on breaking up a group of people who were trying to learn the defense arts. He had hated himself for it, for he had wanted to be there. Not for himself, but for everyone else. He hated the fact that his father was in league with the Dark Lord. Lucius Malfoy had already made it clear that Draco would become a Death Eater soon. Draco had cringed on the idea, but could not do anything but agree with him. He knew that if he tried to rebel against his father, it would mean that his mother, Narcissa, would be the one to pay for it. But he was glad that that would be not happening now, now that Lucius was captured and put in prison. But did Draco really believed that?

He longed to have friends, real friends. Not the ones that he hung around with that did not do anything but try to make people's lives at Hogwarts miserable. He admitted to himself a long time ago that he was wrong to participate with them, but he knew that if he did not, it would get back to his father and the consequences would be severe.

He did not really hate Harry Potter. In all honesty, he admired the bloke. He had shown true courage and bravery in the worst times. And Harry's determination to defeat Voldemort only made Draco's admiration for him and his friends grow stronger. But how could he make amends with them now? Too much hostility and bad blood spilled amongst them that it seemed unrepairable. How could he make them see that what they knew from the outside was not the real Draco Malfoy?

He stared at the blank page of his journal, the tip of his quill hanging in mid air, waiting to be used. There was so much he wanted to write down. So many emotions, thoughts, going through him. And he had no one to confide in but his journal. But why can't he seem to let them out?

He sighed and put his quill inside the journal. He closed it and got up from the bed putting the journal on his bedside table. He walked over to his window and looked out into the sky. He wondered how his life would be if he just went back to Hogwarts a different person. Would people accept him? Or would they think that he had some kind of ulterior motive for the sudden change?

He hit the side of his window as he thought of all the mean things he had done in the past, knowing how hard they will be to mend. Tears pooled in his eyes and he let them flow. No one was there to see him cry. Something that a Malfoy was inot/I supposed to do. But he hated being a Malfoy. He hated to be hated.

He wiped the tears off his face with the back of his hands and let out a breath. He went back to his bed and grabbed the journal. He proceeded to write his thoughts, his feelings. When he was done, he closed it and put it back in his bureau, letting no one know the real Draco Malfoy, once again.

He went to his bathroom to change into his nightclothes. When he came out, he found his mother on his bed, crying. He let out a sigh as he walked over and sat next to her.

"Mum?" he said softly. His mother looked at him, her eyes blood shot from crying and from drinking. He could smell the stench of the alcohol in her breath. He looked away from her as her appearance at the moment was repulsive to him. She was usually dressed all prim and proper. But now, her hair was disheveled, her cardigan was hanging off her shoulder, and her face was a mess, her make up had run from her crying.

She did not say anything to him but just handed him a piece of parchment. Draco looked down at it and grimaced. It had the mark of the Dark Lord on it. It could only mean one thing.

He took it from his mother and sighed again before unfolding the letter. He wanted to scream out when he read it.

Narcissa,

I believe now is the time to have your son, Draco, join us. It would be a great honor for your family for him to continue what your husband had loyally done for me. Bring him to the headquarters before Christmas and he will be inducted into my army. He will be given his father's position, as my right hand man.

Your master,

Lord Voldemort

He turned to look at his mother with wide eyes. He could not believe that this was happening now. He did not want to go.

"Mum, tell me you will not let this happen," he pleaded. His mother broke down into hysterics.

"You're father would be proud, Draco! You have to go!" she screeched at him.

"No! I don't want to!" he yelled back. "I don't believe in killing innocent people Mother!"

"Draco! Do you know what would happen if you don't obey him?! He'll kill you!"

"Then so be it!" he screamed getting up from the bed. "I would rather die than follow him!"

"Draco please!" Narcissa pleaded. "It will make your father happy!"

"But what about my happiness!?" Draco retorted. "And I can not believe that you would actually say that! After all that he'd done to you!"

SMACK!

He looked at his mother in shock. Not once in all of his 16 years did she ever lay a hand on him. Narcissa had her hand on her mouth, her eyes wide. She could not believe that she had just hurt her son. Her baby. Her life.

She ran out of his room slamming the door shut behind her. Draco sat down on his bed, his hand on his cheek. It was throbbing. His mother had never done anything like that to him. His father, yes. But, this one hurt a lot worse than all the ones he'd received from Lucius.

He went to his bureau again. He pulled open the drawer and grabbed his journal once again. In his haste though, he pulled another item out that fell on the floor. When he looked down to see what it was, he felt his heart wrench. He picked it up and sat down on the floor, leaning against his bed.

He caressed the surface of that item and felt his eyes pool up with tears. It was a picture. And as always in the wizarding world, the image was moving. That image was of a girl. The only girl that Draco had ever cared for, loved even, but not declared it for fear of her safety.

His father once told him that if he ever made the mistake of falling in love with a Mudblood, not only will Draco pay, but the unfortunate one he fell in love with will also. At first, Draco thought that it was not possible for him to fall in love to a non-pure blood, so it would not be a problem. But little did he expect, that love would hit him at the most inopportune time.

~*~*~

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