I decided to write a really, really scarily depressing story. No worries,
the text family friendly. But the concepts... hmm...
Disclaimer- I guess I'm supposed to put this... I own nothing. Dont sue
plz I cant afford it hehehe
Closer
Draco picked up the knife because he had a made a decision. It had taken him quite a while to reach this decision because he had been through so much pain in his life he didn't want to suffer more, and this would involve a lot of pain. But then he decided with his twisted reasoning that it would only make him stronger and it's not like it could get any worse anyway.
He was positive he would go through with it this time. He actually got to the point where the blade nearly touched his skin before he jerked away. Next time it will be closer. He told himself.
Next time I'll do it.
He went to school the next day the same way he normally did, like nothing was different, so no one would know that he had gotten closer, so much closer than before.
Not that anybody cared, because it seemed like nobody cared anymore.
And Harry just walked around the same old way and he was just candid and approachable like always and everyone worshipped him like always and he'd secretly tell his friends about his scar hurting and nightmares like always.
He thinks he has problems.
Draco knew something Harry didn't.
Draco knew that while Harry prophesized about Voldemort coming back he knew because he had seen his horrible snakelike face in the fire and his father's features twisting into little creases while he spoke in a an oily voice and promised horrific things to his Master, his Master that he loved more than his own son.
Harry thinks he has problems. He's kidding himself.
Or at least that's what he thought until that evening.
A whispering, rasping voice. Lucius.
Draco saw that repulsive face in the fire and quickly left the room. But he still caught a snatch of the conversation as he walked down the hall towards his room.
Lucius, I've been probing Potter's mind for some time now.
He stopped and slowly walked back to the door, but didn't open it, just listened; waiting, expectant.
His resistance is becoming weaker. Dumbledore's attempts at teaching him Occlumancy have failed. Soon I will be able to control his mind completely and lead him to do things I never thought possible.
"Yes, my lord, of course, my lord." Draco heard his father's voice and cringed.
Your son is repulsed by me.
"No, my lord!"
You bumbling fool! Even an idiot like you should be able to tell he abhors the sight of me! He leaves the room every time my face appears!"
"But, my lord..."
Something silenced Lucius, for he stopped speaking and simply listened to the whispered words from Voldemort. Draco strained to hear but it was as though he was encased in glass- he heard nothing.
But he had heard what he needed to hear.
He silently debated whether or not to tell Harry. It's not like he would listen to him, but if he let it slip somehow... a note "accidentally" left near the Griffindor common room...
Suddenly the door swung open with such force that he fell forward and hit the floor so hard he saw stars. Dizzily he tried to stand or focus is eyes on something, but everything was sort of blurry.
Traitor.
A whispered word.
" Master, he's a child... he can change..."
Yes, true, and since he is my chosen, I can't exactly kill him...
Draco vaguely wondered if his father tried to save him because he loved him or because he would benefit from it. He knew the answer and hated it for all of its accuracy. Benefit.
However...
Voldemort's face twisted into a cruel, diabolical smile.
If he continues with his self- destructive behavior...
"Self destructive behavior?" Lucius queried him.
Came pretty close today, didn't you, Draco?
He suddenly realized Voldemort actually knew. Voldemort knew and his own father didn't.
He turned away form his father's infuriated gaze and looked the evil sorceror in the eyes. "Yes, and I will get closer still."
Lucius, you really should be more aware of your son. He is, after all, your flesh and blood.
Draco saw something in his father's eyes that he had never seen before. Like he was trying to tell Draco something without saying it or thinking it.
You do love him, don't you?
Instantly the look in Lucius's eyes was gone and he whispered "No."
I suppose you meant it when you said you loved nothing at hurt none...Tomorrow, Lucius.
"Yes, my lord."
Then he nodded at Draco and Voldemort and left the room, his black robes billowing behind him as he stepped.
Closer
Draco picked up the knife because he had a made a decision. It had taken him quite a while to reach this decision because he had been through so much pain in his life he didn't want to suffer more, and this would involve a lot of pain. But then he decided with his twisted reasoning that it would only make him stronger and it's not like it could get any worse anyway.
He was positive he would go through with it this time. He actually got to the point where the blade nearly touched his skin before he jerked away. Next time it will be closer. He told himself.
Next time I'll do it.
He went to school the next day the same way he normally did, like nothing was different, so no one would know that he had gotten closer, so much closer than before.
Not that anybody cared, because it seemed like nobody cared anymore.
And Harry just walked around the same old way and he was just candid and approachable like always and everyone worshipped him like always and he'd secretly tell his friends about his scar hurting and nightmares like always.
He thinks he has problems.
Draco knew something Harry didn't.
Draco knew that while Harry prophesized about Voldemort coming back he knew because he had seen his horrible snakelike face in the fire and his father's features twisting into little creases while he spoke in a an oily voice and promised horrific things to his Master, his Master that he loved more than his own son.
Harry thinks he has problems. He's kidding himself.
Or at least that's what he thought until that evening.
A whispering, rasping voice. Lucius.
Draco saw that repulsive face in the fire and quickly left the room. But he still caught a snatch of the conversation as he walked down the hall towards his room.
Lucius, I've been probing Potter's mind for some time now.
He stopped and slowly walked back to the door, but didn't open it, just listened; waiting, expectant.
His resistance is becoming weaker. Dumbledore's attempts at teaching him Occlumancy have failed. Soon I will be able to control his mind completely and lead him to do things I never thought possible.
"Yes, my lord, of course, my lord." Draco heard his father's voice and cringed.
Your son is repulsed by me.
"No, my lord!"
You bumbling fool! Even an idiot like you should be able to tell he abhors the sight of me! He leaves the room every time my face appears!"
"But, my lord..."
Something silenced Lucius, for he stopped speaking and simply listened to the whispered words from Voldemort. Draco strained to hear but it was as though he was encased in glass- he heard nothing.
But he had heard what he needed to hear.
He silently debated whether or not to tell Harry. It's not like he would listen to him, but if he let it slip somehow... a note "accidentally" left near the Griffindor common room...
Suddenly the door swung open with such force that he fell forward and hit the floor so hard he saw stars. Dizzily he tried to stand or focus is eyes on something, but everything was sort of blurry.
Traitor.
A whispered word.
" Master, he's a child... he can change..."
Yes, true, and since he is my chosen, I can't exactly kill him...
Draco vaguely wondered if his father tried to save him because he loved him or because he would benefit from it. He knew the answer and hated it for all of its accuracy. Benefit.
However...
Voldemort's face twisted into a cruel, diabolical smile.
If he continues with his self- destructive behavior...
"Self destructive behavior?" Lucius queried him.
Came pretty close today, didn't you, Draco?
He suddenly realized Voldemort actually knew. Voldemort knew and his own father didn't.
He turned away form his father's infuriated gaze and looked the evil sorceror in the eyes. "Yes, and I will get closer still."
Lucius, you really should be more aware of your son. He is, after all, your flesh and blood.
Draco saw something in his father's eyes that he had never seen before. Like he was trying to tell Draco something without saying it or thinking it.
You do love him, don't you?
Instantly the look in Lucius's eyes was gone and he whispered "No."
I suppose you meant it when you said you loved nothing at hurt none...Tomorrow, Lucius.
"Yes, my lord."
Then he nodded at Draco and Voldemort and left the room, his black robes billowing behind him as he stepped.