Breaking the Habit

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter . . . that's JK Rowlings . . . although I wish that I did . . . just imagine all that cash . . . I'm not motivated by greed - of course not . . .

And I don't own Breaking the Habit – that's Linkin Park's

Draco stumbled into his bedroom, dead tired. He had just come from a meeting with the recently incarcerated Lucius Malfoy – at Azkaban – to let him know that he was to be let out on "bail" soon – that is, he had finished bribing all of the officials to release Lucius due to "insufficient evidence". He hated that place, as all of his good memories – not that he had many – were sucked out of him. Though it was strange, that the Dementor's hadn't gone over to the Dark Lord's side. He still felt awful, not to mention that his freedom was about to be severely curtailed. He shuddered to think what would happen to Narcissa when Lucius was released. He hated that even from prison, Lucius still controlled every aspect of her life – after years of abuse, she was completely paranoid and frightened of her own shadow.

He shucked of his outer robes and fell onto the bed, and was asleep before his head hit the pillow. He was tossing and turning almost instantly – reliving progressively worse memories.

Memories consume

Like opening the wound

He's six years old, and his father is starting him on lessoning. He's so happy – he can't believe that his father thinks him old enough to ready for them. Slowly his happiness drains away during the lesson, as his father is lecturing him about Muggles – and Muggleborns. "We always use the term Mudblood son – it's because they have been infested with the dirty blood of a Muggle."

His younger self pipes up –"Why are Muggles dirty father? Aren't they the same as us?"

"What did you say?" His father said in a deathly quiet voice.

"Aren't they the same as us?"

"No! We are the superior race; they don't deserve to walk on the same ground as us! You need to be taught a lesson boy! Crucio!"

He screams from the pain. He can't bear it . . .

I'm picking me apart again

He's fourteen, and still cowers before his father like a frightened puppy. He can't believe himself, it's like a veil was torn from his eyes, and can now see what he is like. He disgusts himself – he knows why Potter didn't want to be his friend, he's a spineless coward, and has no opinions of his own . . . just like his father wanted – a perfect copy of himself, that he could control easily.

You all assume

I'm safe here in my room

– Nothing can save me from myself –

Unless I try to start again

– I can't stop myself from asking –

I don't want to be the one

The battles always choose

– Why can't I be the one he wanted? –

'Cause inside I realize

That I'm the one confused

– What is right? –

I don't know what's worth fighting for

– What is wrong? –

Or why I have to scream

– Why do I have to know now? –

I don't know why I instigate

And say what I don't mean

– What's the matter with me; I push away those who only want to help –

I don't know how I got this way

I know it's not alright

So I'm

Breaking the habit

Tonight

With a gasp, Draco woke up. For a moment, he wasn't sure where he was, and he peered about, confused. Then reality reasserted itself and he knew. But it wasn't the same, he didn't feel right.

He had to know what was wrong with him. Correction, he knew what was wrong - already his father was asserting his control and wresting away his internal defences. Although Draco was stronger than his father, Lucius often caught him unawares, and was able to put restrictions on him – when he would try to tell someone – Dumbledore for instance – what his father did to him – what he was still doing to him, he would greet them pleasantly. When his minds screamed out for help, Lucius was putting a smirk on his face, and flinging insults at the nearest Muggleborn.

The only place that would know how to stop what his father was doing to him would be in his father's personal collection – but he didn't have the key. The Alohomora spell wouldn't work on the door as well. But he wasn't completely without resources – he had learned to pick locks in fourth year.

Clutching my cure

I tightly lock the door

I try to catch my breath again

He lay beside the door, panting. He didn't have much time – his father wound the spell around him tighter and tighter. Soon he wouldn't have enough control to cast the necessary spell to thwart him. And it hurt too – that was his father's favorite trick, being able to reduce him to a whimpering mess.

I hurt much more

Than anytime before

I had no options left again

This was awful – he wasn't sure if he had the will to prevent him. But he had to try. He needed help, he had no idea how to get someone he trusted to assist him. He started the spell, which required herbs and such.

I'll paint it on the walls

'cause I'm the one at fault

Lucius burst in and stared at his only son. Shock was written all over his face. He couldn't believe that impertinent brat had managed to break his bindings so thoroughly. Then the anger made its way past it and he yelled at his son incoherently. Draco turned around with tearstains on his face. "Stop it! Just – stop! You can't boss me around anymore – you just can't!"

"I beg to differ! You are mine – I can do whatever I damn well please with you. I created you and I can bloody well destroy you! Avada K –"

Draco closed his eyes and waited for the final blow.

I'll never fight again

And this is how it ends

Ministry wizards break in on the scene, yelling "Stupefy!" Lucius fell to the floor, his face reflecting the shock of what had just happened to him. They get to Draco, who is on the floor, surrounded by anti-binding spell fragments. They recognize what he has used, and are shocked at what he had to have done to break through coercion.

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

Breaking the habit

Tonight

Lucius was sentenced with attempted murder and earned a life sentence before the night was done. He was at Azkaban before the breaking of dawn, and his son and wife left at Malfoy Manor in peace, for the time being. But more than one thing happened that night. Draco had finally put aside his father's contempt and hatred for him and was able to start rebuilding the relationship with his mother, which had been destroyed by the years of his father's reign. But everything comes with a price – and they had yet to figure out what that price was.

A/N: So, you like? Review please – and no flames! Because than I would have to put you on the naughty people list – and you don't want to be put on that. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, cuz I don't have a beta at the moment . . . and Word sucks.