Alright, I felt REALLY bad, because I still got reviews, even after I stopped writing for ages, and yes I know I'm losing readers by stopping. And Believe me, I feel horrible. So I created this one shot fic, it's really short, but hopefully you can be content while I get back on track..
Disclaimer: Don't own any of the characters; I only own the plot, if you even call it a plot.
Summary: Draco's point of view, for the main- on his life. It's sad P Oh well…Bad Summary, R & R. Warning: Depressive thoughts, and suicidal situations.
Perfect.
How I hated that word. It tore my family apart. It ruined my life… That's what I was supposed to be. Prefect. To live up he the family name soon became a distant priority.
When I first told them the silence it created could kill in a heart beat. Soon I was unaware if family events, meetings, and reunions. My family had cast me out. So I did the only thing I knew of at the time, I pulled back. I told press and people very little. I didn't want them to know the word family was no longer a word spoken near us, and when it did happen to slip out, my mother would get all teary and excuse herself from the room. Me and my father would sit there unaware of what to say. It was always awkward.
The big house was often quiet and my parents were never home anymore.
The day they preformed the kiss on my father is a memory that will never falter. They needed a witness and my mother was unable to witness such a horror. So I was put in her place instead. He went with his head held high. The last thing he said to me was 'I'm proud of you son. You're a Malfoy, remember that.' Lies. True as it was that I was a Malfoy he was anything but proud of me.
Days had passed by and I watched my mother become worse and worse. She would sickly make herself believe he was still alive. Sometimes she thought I was him, I played along. I was no longer seen as her son, and never would be again. As my mother lay in her bed slowly killing herself I wandered the empty halls.
I could hear echoing laughter in the darkness. I would close my eyes and I could see what used to be, and what I never am able to obtain again. I saw my mothers smiling face and my father's bright laughter. It made me sick. It turned me selfish and frustrated that I no longer had a perfect life.
I was afraid to talk to my mother so I avoided her as much as possible. The press wouldn't leave us alone, so many questions went unanswered. I avoided those too. Afraid of what people would say and think. I didn't need pity. I already pitied myself. It was said 'Never pity a fool' did that make me the fool? I felt as if that was what I was to do, fool the whole world.
I pretended to be happy when I was shattered inside and no one could pick up my broken pieces. I was scared to get close for fear they would find out the secrets I kept locked away. I failed. Everyone believed my sham, all but one. He stood out from the crowd.
He wasn't like the rest, he could see past the mask I wore. That only scared me even more. He could read me like a favorite book you've read a thousand times. But somehow I felt safe when me and this strangers eyes locked every now and then amongst the walls of Hogwarts. Soon I came to know this boy as Harry Potter.
I got defensive. My eyes once so readable locked into coldness. I had cast up my ice wall. Insults and fights is how I came upon approaching this boy. Once again I put up this sham. But it was hatred. Hatred of myself. For he could still see through me. He had melted my ice wall when no one else could. I had failed once again. Days passed and still he has not approached me.
I had soon started to wonder how much he could see of me. Often he would sit starring at me. Like he could see my past like a movie in his head. Replying and replaying every detail of my life. I couldn't blink as if I wanted him to know everything about me. I had failed. Again. He saw my horrific past, saw my life as it was until this very point in time. He saw it all, and somehow I didn't care.
I was sitting in the library avoiding anyone I could. I couldn't stand seeing them happy when I felt empty inside. It was there that the one person I wanted to see found me.
"Why do you hurt so much?"
I was stunned. The first civil words we ever spoke to each other and it was asking why I hurt so much. I cast my eyes downwards. I knew if I looked at him he'd see more than he already had known. Somehow I felt as if he knew everything already.
"You've seen my past, why do you think!" it came out harsher than I meant to seem.
He cringes under my bitter tone. He placed his hand on my chin to bring my eyes to meet his. Sparks flew through my body at his touch. I gasped and shifted away from him.
"You felt it too." I did.
But I would never admit that to him. But he knew, he had always known. He could read it in my eyes.
"We need to talk."
It was then that I found myself walking the grounds farthest away from the castle. The evening sun beating down on us, the cool breeze blowing through our hair.
"Did your father ever tell you anything about a bondmen-ship?" he asks me. Nothing clicked in my mind at first, but then it hit me. Hard.
"Draco you are to coming of age very soon, and you will meet your mate. It's how I and your mother came to be and it will be the same for you and your mate. You will feel safe in your scariest moments. From your first touch to your last you will be bond to them. And when one of your dies soon the other will die as well. For neither can live while the other ones dead."
"My mate…your my mate." I say quietly just soft enough so he can hear. He nods his head and a little smile plays on his lips. "You're my mate" I whispered softly just enough so he can't hear me. He was my mate, and there was nothing I could do about it.
Or could I.
I was shattered inside with no friends, no family, and I was to be bound to someone I hardly knew. No one would miss me…No one would care. Without looking back at him I ran. I ran until I couldn't breathe any longer. I pulled out my wand and pointed it at my heart.
No.
I put it back into my pocket. It was too quick. I pulled out the switch knife I kept in my back pocket. I put it against my wrist and pulled. Each blood dropping to the ground represented each pain I went though in my life. Fifteen drops had fallen before all went black.
I stood in the pouring rain amongst the strangers. They knew me, even though I didn't know them. I stepped forward in order to utter my last words. It wasn't much, but it was a big deal and made a big impact on everyone here. Especially me. For now I was going to die.
Many people had asked me why I had not screamed, cried, or yelled. I simply told then that I did my crying, screaming, and yelling when I found out. It did no good then, and it would do no good now. As I took my stand to say my peace they bowed there heads.
"Remember…All things beautiful eventually must die."
It wasn't much I walked away as they all cried.
One year later…I passed away.