Disclaimer - I own nothing you recognise.
Written for; Button Bonanza, Red 9. Draco Malfoy and Showtime, 3. Peacock.
Word Count - 378
What Comes Next
He wandered the grounds. The sun had long since set, but he'd been unable to sleep. The Manor, once a wonderful home, was now filled with shadows Draco didn't want to face.
One of his father's prized albino peacocks walked past him, cooing quietly, but he paid it no mind. He should look into selling them, since he had no desire to hand rear them himself like his father did.
He didn't have the time or the inclination, and with Lucius in Azkaban for life, it wasn't as though his Father could curse him for it.
The Manor was silhouetted against the moon and it seemed foreboding in a way it never had before to Draco.
His childhood had been forever tainted by the monster he'd sworn to serve.
He'd been such an idiot, and now, what did he have to show for it? A Manor that terrified him, nightmares that wouldn't let up, a mother that couldn't get through the day without copious amounts of alcohol, and his father in Azkaban.
It was all such a mess, and Draco didn't have the first clue how to make any of it better. Was it even possible to make any of it better?
He doubted it.
Draco didn't know what he was supposed to do now. Was he supposed to try and rebuild? Was he supposed to get the hell out of the country and try and start fresh somewhere nobody knew him?
Was he supposed to fade into the background, and let people forget what a coward he was, what a liability he'd always been?
Was he supposed to just… stop existing? (why was that so inviting?)
Draco sighed to himself and began walking slowly back to the manor. He'd lie in his bed until morning, when he'd force himself up once more, encourage his mother to eat something before she began her new liquid diet, and then, he supposed, he should start to make plans.
He knew he was lucky to have escaped Azkaban himself but…
Sometimes, he craved the safety of a prison cell.
Sometimes, when he looked at the manor, when he looked at his mother, he envied his father.
At least in prison, it would be someone else's responsibility to know what comes next.
