I own my socks, and they weren't given to me as a Christmas present either! Who the heck sends socks as presents? Well anyway all that down there… not mine! Only Draco
I don't want this. This curse, which has been cast upon me at such a young age. Those that don't wish to fight for their own lives just push it off on the most convenient scapegoat.
The small fire, simmering under a softly bubbling cauldron, was the only disturbance to the room's darkness. It was peaceful. The irony of that was not lost on the room's occupant. Here, where he'd been tortured for hours on end until he learned the exact amount of quills to put in, he felt calm enough to work through the complex potion he needed to get away from this.
I don't want to fight anymore. I thwarted the dark lord four times now, I've given my time, let someone else try for a change.
Picking at the left over leaves his gaze danced around the room. The dark potions class was hardly any brighter then normal he decided but it was a lot more peaceful without the looming figure of the potions master. If he could stay here forever it wouldn't be so bad.
Why is it my burden? Just because I didn't die like I was supposed to?
Dropping the last ingredient into the cauldron he leaned back, resting on his elbows, the hard stone of the dungeons ignored. Now he'd have to wait but five minutes. It would all be over. No more Boy-who-lived-to-suffer. It had taken him a month to decided if he really wanted to use the potion or not. There were too many things that kept making him double guess himself. Yet it had only taken about an hour to mix the potion itself.
Pushing the dark text out of the way he stood up from behind the desk he'd been using to shield his efforts should anyone decide to take a stroll through the potions class at eleven at night. He'd locked the door and felt rather confident that no one in his or her right mind would want to be in here longer then a class period. The proved it then, he'd gone insane. They'd lock him away, though it couldn't be all that bad in his point of view. Stretching from having sit for too long he started putting away the things he'd gotten out while making the potion. It was merely a task to keep him occupied while waiting for the potion to stop bubbling.
I'm just damn well tired of this. Why can't they all go away and leave me alone?
That was his current reason for the potion though. It was his way to get away from them all, the only way it seemed. Having cleaned up he grabbed a piece of paper from Snape's desk and jotted down a few lines before folding it up and looking around the room.
It was then that he had the guilty feeling that he'd thought this out all too well.
Still time to turn back.
He shook the thought from his head. Walking over to a cabinet holding the school supply of vials. They weren't used too often, as you'd never know what hadn't been washed out of them. Kneeling down he moved the glassware aside and crawled half into the cabinet. Twisting around, careful not to knock over anything, he looked up at the underside of the cabinet top. Tucking the paper up under the lip he made sure that it was well hidden but could still be found just by reach past the lip created by the front of the cabinet. Satisfied he pushed himself out and rearranged the vials so that it didn't look so completely obvious that someone had messed with them.
Turning back to the now still potion he took out his own vial. Filling the glass container he capped it off to be certain that it wouldn't spill and placed it in a pocket for safekeeping. Taking the cauldron to the sink he dumped the remains and cleaned it out.
Why make so much if its only going to be used once? Why have us use so much of ingredients that were damn expensive?
He couldn't have used Snape's, as when he noticed them missing it would be obvious what he'd done. It was a small price to pay for his peace of mind. Taking the vial out carefully he uncapped it, listening to the water running in the sink. He wasn't sure how long he had for it to take effect. That seemed to be the problem with most potions, so unclear as to exact effects. Pushing the thoughts away he downed the potion leaving it in his mouth as long as he could bare while he quickly put the empty vial under the running faucet. Not even having time to be thankful for the foresight, it slipped from his hand as his whole body went limp. He could feel the potion rushing through his body as it systematically shut down the messages to his unresponsive limbs.
I'd rather just die, having never known why.
MUAHAHAHAHA I'm just going to leave you there, hanging forever not knowing what's going to happen. Just kidding I'll think about starting the next chapter tonight. Review's make me happy in a strictly PG way! Flames… They're just amusing.