Atlantis

Stuff I should have told you last time: XXXX-Scene transition

xxxx-Transition from Journal to scene

OOOO- Divide journal header from journal entry.

Oh. This will actually have a plot beyond 'look at the crazy people', I swear. I'm just going to take my sweet time getting there.

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Chapter One

When You've Taken Your Last Breath

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Journal Entry Five

Draco Malfoy

Year Seven

Number: 191213

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According to Professor Bear I am not using my journal in a productive manner, as various doodles of various ways to kill him aren't productive in his view, and if I plan to heal must begin to record what I believe led me here, to be patient number 191213 of St. Mungo's, in the care of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

And, believe it or not I've given the matter some serious thought and I've come to the conclusion that I have no idea in hell what that number means.

We all have one.

I was assigned one over summer break, after my parents died.

Apparently I lost my mind, or succumbed to depression, or allowed myself to lose hope or…something. I think that, for the first time in a long while, I saw things clearly. My father hadn't vanished and my mother hadn't left to go after him. They hadn't abandoned me in an attempt to flee the Dark Lord, as my parents 'friends' tried to convince me. Though maybe if I'd believed that I'd be in a better situation.

I wonder if they truly thought I was that moronic.

My parents are dead. It's confirmed now, the bodies were found. Beaten, tortured, starved, and brutalized, because they dared to challenge the Dark Lord. They'd spoken out against Voldemort for the stupidest reason possible.

For their son. They'd wanted to spare me the Dark Mark, spare me…something.

A lot of people will talk about them; my parents that is. Call them cruel and distant and unloving and just interested in a trophy son. Say they had no interest in my life or me; say they were selfish and only thought of themselves. Say they abused me, emotionally and some would even say psychically.

I've heard very nasty rumors about my father, actually.

And it's funny, because maybe you'd expect it. I mean, look at us…the Malfoys. A perfect china doll family if ever there was such a thing. Tall with perfect long platinum blond hair, distant gray-blue eyes, flawless powder pale skin, delicate features, long and thing fingers, aristocratic nose, full pink lips…

Perfectly perfect. The three of us were unmatched in that area. We made other families look pale in comparison, for when the Malfoy family walked into a room it was like all the life was ours.

Which could have been true. My mother's mother was a Veela, which added to my mother's unique charm and had made many a man fall at her feet before she'd settled on my father. And not because of his money or the easy lifestyle he offered, as many may suspect.

My mother loved my father. She would have died for him. Did die for him, after a fashion, I suppose, or at least with him. Some people theorize what when a Veela falls in love that, men everywhere have their hearts broken.

If that's the case many man suffered from heartbreak that day. Narcissa Malfoy may not have been a warm or kind woman, but the way her eyes glowed when she saw my father spoke more than many people will ever understand. She looked at the man, that terrible hard man, and saw something the rest of the world couldn't even imagine.

I can't even imagine.

I remember, when I was young, my mother liked to entertain me by dancing for me. Another Veela charm I suppose…I think it started as an attempt to sooth me by using actual Veela magic, but it seemed I was immune to it. And then became a sort of game; "Draco, watch mummy now. Watch close."

And I remember once, sitting, and watching when my father came home. And my mother didn't miss a bit. She took him by the hand and swept him into the music and I don't think I had ever seen the man laugh or even crack a smile until that moment.

That's the thing about family moments. No one else will ever appreciate them quite as much as I did. No one will understand why I mourned for these people like I did, and many won't understand that I'm capable of mourning at all.

They don't…can't, understand that I will miss my mother standing in my doorway every night and wishing me good dreams. Even when I had a nanny to put me to bed, she'd be there. No party or ball or dinner could make her miss it for the world.

I wish, violently, that I hadn't taken to rolling my eyes when she did it. I was too old, I thought. I was too old for such things…until it was gone. Until night came and I found myself sitting up and watching the door and wanting so much for her to be there, dressed up in a perfectly pressed blue gown (because Father said blue brought out her eyes) with her hair up and pinned into place, and smelling like the…earth. Wet earth, always.

And I wanted her to smile and wish me good dreams and I swear, I wouldn't tell her I was too old…

I won't lie of course. My mother was self-centered and shallow, a selfish woman to the core, and terribly high maintenance.

But she also worked out in the garden and got dirt onto her hands, and chased her son around the grass, and shared secret looks with her husband. There was more than money in my mother's voice, more than wealth on her mind.

I will miss…so many things about her. Even the way she wrinkled her nose when she was displeased, and she was constantly displeased.

And my father. There isn't that much to say about him. He was a horrible man, most might even venture to say evil…hell I would venture to say evil. But he loved his wife and he loved his son, even if he never really satisfied with what he did.

And now I wonder if he was constantly telling me to do better because he knew I could.

If that were the case, wouldn't he be tragically disappointed now?

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"Now, Ronald, this is Class 1. It's where you begin. As you progress, you'll move up through the rooms and gain points and, eventually, return back to the general Hogwarts' population." Professor Bear, who was a tall man of perhaps 25 and looked like he was fresh from Wizarding University, was saying.

Draco looked up from his sketchpad, pausing in his drawing. His journal sat a few feet away, safety quill writing down all of his thoughts in a nice and orderly fashion. His thumb was dark gray from the smearing the charcoal over the rough paper, and the rest of his hand was a dusty gray.

At the door stood Bear, with his curly brown hair gleaming in the dim light they over here. 'Here' being the ward for 'Endangered Cases'. It was an entire three floors of Hogwarts, totally cut off from the rest of the castle through the use of magic and wards.

They called it Atlantis. Draco didn't know who the hell 'they' were but that's what 'they' called it anyway. Draco didn't really see the point of it.

The bottom floor was for classrooms. The middle floor was dorm rooms. The top floor was for therapy.

Draco wasn't allowed onto the top or middle floor, because he'd made the offhand reference to jumping out of a window once. They'd set up a special bedroom for him on the first floor. He was less than totally appreciative, understandably.

Next to Bear was a tall and lanky redhead. His hair was longer than it used to be, shaggy almost, and his skin was a grayish color. His blue eyes were blank and sunken in, giving him the look of one who hadn't eaten or slept in days. His arms were taped up, making it very apparent what exactly he was in for.

What in the world had possessed a member of the golden trio to off themselves? Had Golden Boy run off the Mudblood and left poor little pauper to his own devices?

And if that was the case, slitting your wrists really made attending to your own 'devices' a pain in the ass, since you were all bandaged up, then all sore and itchy…it really killed the 'self-loving' mood, in a manner of speaking.

"The rest of the students are upstairs, for group. This is Draco, I assume you two have meet, since you are in the same year."

Those eyes flickered over to him. Draco just blinked then turned back to his picture, deciding it wasn't worth the effort. Bear said a few other things then left, leaving Weasley alone with him. Draco didn't look up though.

Instead he turned the page and began a new drawing. He started with the eyes; the eyes were always the most important part.

"So this is where you've been all year Malfoy?" Ron's tone was as caustic as ever. Draco glanced up briefly; admiring the way locks of red caught the sunlight from outside and gleamed gold. It was a very nice effect, when you considered it.

It was a shame it had to be on the Weasel though. But he supposed this meant he could no longer say he had no redeeming qualities, he had very attractive hair, if that counted for anything to anyone.

"What'd you do anyway?" Ron asked, looking around. "I mean I always knew it was only a matter of time before you snapped, but I always thought it'd be all over the papers and stuff. Not locked up in a distant part of Hogwarts."

This was probably why he'd always found the redhead so damn grating. He talked entirely too fucking much. What'd a person have to do to get a person to shut up around here, kill them? Shit.

"I don't suppose you tried to kill anyone? Nothing I should be aware of, right?" Ron asked, frowning slightly.

"He doesn't talk." A soft whispery voice. Draco craned his neck and say Travis, one of four seventh year students. (Five if Draco was to count Ron) He'd been a Ravenclaw until his third year, when he'd unexplainably swallowed a mixture of hazardous chemicals in Potions.

They still didn't know why and so he was still here, in level one. Draco imagined he'd be the same way. He'd stay all year then be transferred away with other crazy people somewhere. After all, people that don't talk and have to be force-fed were usually considered a little nutters.

Draco tended to disagree but no one seemed to care what he thought anymore.

"Are you kidding? Usually he won't shut the hell up." Ron peered at him anxiously. Those blue eyes were staring at him…staring through him. "Hey, what happened to your face?"

Those eyes, staring. Seeing everything, prying where they weren't fucking wanted. Trying to see him, trying to open him up and see what was inside…

Why did everyone want to be inside?

Ron jumped back with a yelp, holding his face where Draco had lashed out. Blood streamed down pale skin and stained Draco's fingertips. He stood on his feet, breathing deeply and scowling at the redhead, who'd fallen to his knees.

He wondered if he should say something.

Too late, one of the 'guards' grabbed him and dragged him towards the back, where his bed was. It really wasn't necessary; he would have walked if they asked. It was nothing personal against the Weasel; he just was tired of people trying to get inside of him.

Well, okay, maybe it was a little personal as well. He really didn't like Ron, who could blame him.

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"You shouldn't stare." Travis said lightly, wandering over to the table. "He doesn't like that much. That's why he has to away from everyone else."

Ron glared at the teen with the one eye that wasn't currently bleeding. Professor Bear came out from the back where they'd dragged Ron's least favorite blond git and looked down at him, wringing his hands nervously. Then he did a double-take, before grabbing him by the wrist and all but dragging him towards the door and into the hallway that lead back into 'Normal Hogwarts Land', as Ron had just now decided to call it.

Maybe it had something to do with the blood running down the side of his face. Just a small theory he'd cooked up out of the blue.

"We'll get you right to the medical ward and take care of that eye. I should have warned you before hand I suppose, Mr. Malfoy is very sensitive about his appearance."

Ron nodded. He supposed that he'd be sensitive too if someone had burned a snake onto the side of his face and then he had to put up with people staring at him all day. But he wondered why it was there.

And why Draco was there.

And why he'd had his eye clawed at.

Mostly why his eye had been clawed at. It wasn't like he'd meant to stare. It was just hard not to. A big black snake really stood out among all that pale skin and shiny white hair.

He was a little dizzy all of a sudden.

The world went gray around the edges and then black and he could hear someone calling his name but he decided he'd really just rather sleep right now.

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Normally this is where I answer questions and just in general thank you for taking the time read my stuff but erhm…having issues with my email alerts. oh well. Love you guys anyway.