I lie in the pitch black darkness that seems to swallow everything in the room. Even if I were to close my eyes, I would still be greeted with the same darkness. I should be asleep, but every time I close my eyes and drift off, I am greeted with horrors beyond one's imagination. Each one is different, but they are all the same. Faces contoured with pain, and agony. Some smeared with blood, while others have faces devoid of emotion, and eyes devoid of life. I know these are not dreams, but constant recurring memories, left on repeat so I never forgot who I am, and what I have done.
Lying amongst the silk sheets that adorn my bed, I try to keep my mind off of the constant demons that fill my head. I count the number of books I have on my shelves, or focus on the ticking of the clock the rests on my bedside table. But none of what I do keeps the demons at bay for long. On rare occasions, when I am able to slip off into undisturbed sleep, I am only to be woken, not nearly enough hours later, by the strong stream of sunlight, from the many windows in my room, basking every inch of my bed. Thanks to the ever faithful house elves that take care of the manor, in which I mean me, I never seem to get the much needed sleep that I need. Sensing that eyes are watching me, I open one of my own slightly and see Dot, my personal house elf that i've had since childhood, looking at me with her big hazel eyes. I can see her lips moving but I can't quiet understand what she is saying. After a few moments I finally can make out what she said.
"Master Draco, it is time for you to get up, your mother is waiting for you at breakfast." Dot squeaks for the what I think is the fifth time now. After some more persisting from Dot, I am forced to leave the relative safety of my bed and face another day.
Sitting up in bed, I feel the sheets slide over my body, and I watch as some of them slide to the floor. Pulling my legs to the side, I sit there, for what seems like hours, looking out the large windows, watching the clouds roll lazily across the sky. Giving a big sigh, I force myself onto my feet, stretching as I stand up and adjust my sleep pants that seemed to have fallen slightly in the night. Shuffling my way over to the bathroom, I take a look at myself in the mirror and see the dark circles that lie beneath my eyes and the many scars littered across my body. None are of major consequence but still each one holds a different memory that still haunts me in my dreams. I still can't force myself to look at my left forearm, even though I know what is there. It will be the there for the rest of my life, mocking me, forever. Like the memories weren't bad enough, to be marked with this black obsidian tattoo, sharply contrasting with my pale skin, is just the icing on top of the cake.
No longer being able to stand there at look at my self, I quickly bathe and proceed to my closet as I rub a towel through my platinum locks. In my closet I decide to pull out a dark grey t-shirt and some dark jeans to wear for the day. I know they are characteristically muggle, but being forced to live with muggles for two months, as part of my punishment for my war crimes, and being completely deprived of everything magical, one learns to make do. But I have to say some of those muggle things, like those telly's, are not so bad. The second part of my punishment was to go back to school and complete my education. I'd rather live with the muggles longer, but at my mothers insistence I agreed to go back. The only plus to this is dear old Professor Mcgonagall ,or shall I say Headmistress Mcgonagall, awarded me head boy, saying that besides the unfortunate past, you still have the highest grades within boys of your year. Mother is extremely proud, couldn't stop talking about it for days.
After I finish getting dress, I make my way down for breakfast, and see that my school truck and Romulus, my owl, are downstairs waiting by the front door. I'm slightly confused until I realize that it's September first. The first day back at Hogwarts and the first day back to all the staring, pointing, and whispering that has greeted me since coming back to the wizarding world from my little vacation. Walking down a few more hallways, I finally enter the breakfast pavilion where my mother sits, sipping her tea, and looking as graceful and proper as ever. Once she sees me her eyes light up and a small smile graces her lovely face.
"There you are love, I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever make it down here to have one last breakfast with your mother."
"As if I would miss it. How are you this morning mum?"
"Better than most" she replies in her angelic tone.
I ask her this question every morning and that is always her answer. She says we are lucky to be alive and have what we do, because it is far more than what some have. I proceed to pour me a cuppa tea and place a few slices of toast on my plate. Mother is talking to me but i'm really not listening. Aside from the few nods here and there, she is none the wiser that i'm not paying attention to what she is saying. It's something that I learned from my father at a young age, watching him and mother talk, well mostly her talking and him pretending to listen. It is perhaps the only thing that man ever taught me that I have found use for. A house elf pulls me from my vile thoughts of my father and announces that the car is here to take is to Kings Cross Station. We finish our breakfast moments later and proceed to walk to the car. It's on rare occasions that we take a muggle vehicle to London, but mother insisted that we take one today, her excuse was that she wanted spend a little more time with me. And me, not wanting to upset her, agreed to her wish. As we walk through the main entrance I see that my trunk is gone and owl are gone, most likely already in the car. A house elf has the front door open for us and we make our way through it and down the steps to the car. A man in a black muggle suit already has the door open, waiting for us to get in. My mother goes in first and I follow her, after the man in the suit closes the door he makes his way to the front and gets in to start the engine. As we make our way down the long drive way to the front gates, I can't help but look back at the manor, as it slowly becomes hidden by trees, and remember the first time I was leaving for Hogwarts. Everything was so different then, so simple. Now, everything was far from simple and me, well, i'm very much different than the eleven year old boy that entered that place. With the manor finally obscured, I face forward and look out the window watching the trees move by every so often. I feel my mother grasp my and I look towards her.
"You have nothing to fear my love,but promise me you will try to have a normal school year." she says in an almost pleading tone.
"Of course mum." I say gently back to her. I want to keep my word, and I know I will try, but in my six years of schooling there, I have come to realize nothing about Hogwarts is normal.