BEHIND LOCKED DOORS
WARNING: Rated R for profanity and homosexual relations of the incestuous kind. But this is actually a story with a plot, not smutty homosexual porn. Flames only keep me warm in winter.
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Chapter Two: Conversations of the Insomniacs
SUMMER BREAK AFTER DRACO'S FOURTH YEAR
It was past two-thirty in the morning, but all was not peaceful in the Malfoy manor. The house-elves continued along with their chores. Even in sleep they would work. Expensive grandfather clocks in the numerous halls ticked and tocked in an eerily structured manner. And the soft, haunting strains of Beethoven could be heard from one of the Malfoy's many 'family rooms.'
Draco Malfoy, clad in pyjamas of matte grey silk, padded silently down one of the many hallways. His insomnia had come back again after nearly a fortnight of undisturbed sleep. However, Draco saw his insomnia as a strangely helpful thing. When he was unable to sleep, he had time to think through his problems. It was during these sleepless nights that he was able to think up ideas for difficult assignments, solve relationship problems, and consider ways to cope with any problems he had.
The strains of Beethoven's 'Ode to Joy' reached his ears and an ironic snigger bubbled in his throat. The melody sounded strangely out of place in this big, dreary mansion. 'Funabre Marche (The Funeral March)' or maybe 'Moonlight Sonata' would have been much more appropriate.
Reaching the family room, Draco opened the door and was not at all surprised to see his Father wide-awake, sitting on one of the comfortable armchairs in the room, staring fixedly at a silver goblet of some obviously alcoholic blend grasped in his thin hands. Draco noticed with some surprise that he wasn't wearing a shirt. It was very unlike Lucius to go without his trademark high-necked shirts, and now Draco could see why. It wasn't just his arm that Lucius had scarred. His chest was marked too. Some scars barely half an inch long, others running from his armpit, stopping just short of his navel. And many of them had obviously been re-opened after they had healed.
As if on instinct, Lucius looked up from his goblet. He looked surprised, but not irritated to see his son. But, maybe, Draco thought, he doesn't care because he isn't sober.
"What?" Lucius' clipped tone broke the heavy silence between them. Draco shrugged and sat down on the chair next to him. More silence.
"You know, Father" Draco said primly "It is considered bad manners if you do not offer your guest a drink." He paused to smirk. "By the way, I take my scotch straight. With ice."
Surprisingly, this managed to crack the tension in the room. A low chuckle rose in the older man's throat.
"Well, Draco, I'm afraid we have no scotch at the moment. You shall have to settle for a FireWhiskey." His voice slurred a little, the only sign that he wasn't sober. Intoxicated or not, Lucius always managed to maintain his aristocracy and style. Draco simply raised an eyebrow at his Father.
"Can I have an answer now?" He asked, getting straight to the point after pouring himself a glass of FireWhiskey. The question seemed to sober up the older man instantaneously. His eyes once more became completely clear and alert and his voice lost it's relaxed slur.
"An answer for what?" He demanded.
" You are more than aware of what I am talking about. How long have you been disfiguring yourself and what compels you to do it?" Lucius snickered darkly.
"Hasn't your Mother ever told you that you shall grow old early if you become too inquisitive?" Draco glared.
"Stop dancing around the question, Father!" He snapped irritably.
"You are my son. I am your Father." Lucius said simply. "I do not have to answer to you. You are simply a meddlesome child who is unaware of the issues us adults must deal with."
"Do not patronize me!" Draco hissed. "I have been through more than you understand since my second year. I survived through sheer will and determination. All I want to do is help you because when I look at you, I see my old problems resurfacing in the life of another person. I understand how you feel." Lucius sneered.
"What makes you think that you understand?" Draco shoved up one arm of his pyjama sleeve. It was in that split second that a rare moment occurred. Lucius' face changed from his usual mask of indifference to pure astonishment. Draco's arm, once smooth and pale as the ivory keys on a piano, was marred up to the elbow by thin scars, mostly pale pink or off-white in colour.
"I understand because I once had similar problems." His voice was calm. "Like you, I sank into depression during my Second and Third years because I felt worthless and unloved. Pansy cheated on me with Marcus Flint after we had been together for three months. Honestly though, the least she could have done was cheat on me with somebody *remotely* attractive. He looked like a giant rat with that whiskery face and bad teeth… …" Draco paused, then, realising he had his Father's attention, took a deep breath and continued.
"My marks were never high enough. It didn't matter how late I stayed up to study, I could never beat that *stupid* *Gryffindor* *mudblood!* I missed out on so much sleep because I stayed up studying and stressing over such insignificant things! Then, Vincent and Gregory told me they were together in the middle of the Third Year. They said they didn't even know if it would work, but I started to feel more like a spare wheel than part of the group, even after they broke up. I know they never meant to isolate me, but that's just how things were. And to top it all off, I found out I was bisexual when I developed…*feelings* for a Ravenclaw called Terry Boot!" He paused again, mainly to take another deep breath and compose himself.
"I felt miserable, alone. So, I decided to deal with my problems in the most absurd manner. I held them inside me and shut everybody out. And when the emotional pain became too much, I dulled it with physical pain. I started cutting myself." His voice dropped to a whisper as he finished. Lucius stared at his son, mixed emotions coursing through him, the main one being disbelief. Disbelief that his proud, aristocratic son had taken the same path as he was on now.
"So you see, I have an idea of what you are feeling." Draco finished. "It's a long road and I want to help you before it's too late." He reached out, attempting to clasp one of his Father's hands in a gesture of concern. Much to his disappointment, Lucius yanked his hand free and glared at the younger Malfoy.
"What *are* you insinuating about me, Draco Malfoy?" He demanded, a hint of indignation in his voice. "Before it's too late? By Merlin's Beard, could you be more melodramatic? Are you insinuating that I might try to end my life? Only those of feeble blood commit such an act!"
"Incorrect." Was the only reply he received.
"Do *not* correct me, Draco!" Lucius' voice rose slightly.
"I am not correcting you Father. I am simply telling you that it is not only those of feeble blood who have desired or even attempted to end their lives."
"Oh, is that so? Then feel free to name me one!" Draco simply motioned towards his arm once more, this time to a particular bright pink scar that covered the vital artery on his arm. For once in his life, Lucius was speechless. He opened his mouth, trying to come up with a rebuttal, then closed it again silently. Draco stood up and straightened his pyjama sleeves.
"You are entitled to stay up and drink all night, but I'm going back to my room for some much-needed sleep. Good night, Father." Without another word, he left the room to a bewildered and problematical Lucius who was pondering the events of their insomnia-induced conversation.
I'm finding my way back to sanity again Though I don't really know what I'm gonna do when I get there Take a breath and hold on tight Spin around one more time And gracefully fall back to the arms of grace 'Cause I am hanging on every word you say And even if you don't want to speak tonight That's alright, alright with me 'Cause I want nothing more than to Sit outside Heaven's door and listen to you breathing Is where I want to be, yeah... Where I wanna be... I am looking past the shadows Of my mind into the truth and I'm trying to identify The voices in my head God, which one is you Let me feel one more time What it feels like to feel alive And break these calluses off of me One more time 'Cause I am hanging on every word you say And even if you don't want to speak tonight That's alright, alright with me 'Cause I want nothing more than to sit Outside your door and listen to you breathing Is where I want to be, yeah... I don't want a thing from you Bet you're tired of me, waiting For the scraps to fall Off of your table to the ground 'Cause I just want to be here now 'Cause I am hanging on every word you're sayin' Even if you don't wanna speak tonight, that's alright, alright with me 'Cause I want nothing more Than to sit outside Heaven's door And listen to you breathing It's where I wanna be, yeah...(x2) Where I wanna be... Where I wanna be...