Disclaimer: I don't own it. No kidding.

(A/U) Hey everyone! Well, I'm pretty bored, so, I'm going to go ahead and write the next chapter! Enjoy.

I can't escape this hell
So many times I've tried
But I'm still caged inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself

So what if you can see the darkest side of me?
No one would ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
Somebody help me tame this animal

Animal I have Become–Three Days Grace

I was listening to this on the radio the other day, and it made me think of Malfoy! Lmao, you know you're obsessed when…

The first thing I learned about The Burrow was it has rather thin walls. It doesn't help much that the family that dwells in this…humble abode seems to lack the capacity to keep their voices down. Especial that damn girl. Prancing around, practically in her knickers half the time. I have it hard enough without her marching in and out of this room half naked. I haven't had a good shag in over a year. Such things are pointless and mundane in the eyes of the Dark Lord, and his servants had been forbidden to take part in such a waste of time. Apparently the Dark Lord has no hormones. So, when Freckle Face bursts in here, flaunting herself like a damn hooker, it takes all I have not to jump her…However, I don't think that would go over well. Her and her mother bicker constantly, and lately, I have been the subject of their little rows. She screams on and on about my master plan and how I'm secretly planning to kill them on, and her Mother shouts over her about how I'm misunderstood, and really am a good boy at heart. There are both wrong. I have no intention of killing any of them…except perhaps Weasel, and I am most certainly not a Good Boy. I sat at the window seat, listening to Weasely and her Mother fight. Weasely slammed the door so hard the plate on my trunk rattled, and she stormed off into the garden. I watched her from my window. She sat down on a wooden bench and cradled her head in her hands. Even from where I was sitting, I could see her shoulders shaking. She was crying, all alone in the garden, with no one to hold her and tell her the world would spin on. Now she knows what it feels like to be me. Not that I care or anything, but my life hasn't exactly been full of sunshine and daisies. I though after I turned the dark Lord in, things would get better. Mum and I could move away to America and start over again. Apparently not…not after- I stood up suddenly, and began pacing the room. No, it didn't happen. It wasn't real…she didn't…she wasn't…NO! I punched the wall. The wall didn't break, but my hand almost did. I hissed and fell onto the bed, nursing my now bleeding hand. It was numb with pain and the scarlet blood dribbled on the bed spread. Damn.

The upside is, I successfully distracted myself from having an emotional break down. I have to do this from time to time you see, my lack of human outlets forces everything to build up. That's what being a Malfoy is all about. Being alone. Forever. I narrowed my eyes at my bleeding hand, which was beginning to throb. Being alone didn't seem that bad when I was stuck in this hellhole. Damn Weaselys and their hospitality. Well, it's not like I had many other choices. The ministry had dragged me around from house to bloody house. All any one saw was an ex-Death Eater on their doorstep. A threat to their perfect precious families. God forbid something disrupt their peace. I hated them, all of them. Growing up in a perfect world where Mummy and Daddy could do no wrong. A world where it was okay to smile, and it wasn't a sin to have friends. A world where they were loved. God has a sick sense of humour. I got up off the bed and shook my hand out, automatically making my way back over to the window. Freckle-Face was still sitting on the bench, though she was no longer crying. She was gazing down at the starved looking Pansies. I scowled down at her, frustration and jealousy welling up inside of me. Her angry words echoing in the back of my mind;

'Mum, I'm not going to sit there and make small talk with an ex-Death Eater. Not after what his lot did to me, to our entire family.' Yeah, because life had just been a sliced of freaking cake for the rest of us. She didn't undertstand...None of them did, they all had it easy. Easy compared to what I had to go through, what my Mother had to go through. I spun away from the window. Shit, did I ever need a drink! Alcohol seemed like a really nice alternative about now. A flash of white caught my attention. It was an envelope. It was sitting next to the now cold plate of food on my trunk, almost innocently. I ripped it open and read the letter quickly. Same letter they sent us every year. Nothing new, nothing special, no welcome back! We're so happy you're not dead! Of course not. I shook my head. What was wrong with me? I needed to snap out of it, I think I'm slowly sinking into insanity. I tossed the open envelope back onto the trunk, blood from my hand spattering across the crisp white parchment. Shit. So far, I wasn't having a good week.

The garden smelled of sweet perfume. The flowers were in full bloom and they surrounded me with their heavenly scent. The fresh air cleared my mind and it didn't take long for me to stop crying. I hate crying. Have I told you that? It should be illegal for all I'm concerned. I hate it when I cry; I hate it when other people cry. It just flat out annoys me. When other people cry, I get really awkward and never know what to say, when I cry, I feel like I'm making other people feel awkward. So, when I end up breaking down into tears, it never takes long for me to suck it up and move on. To be honest, I don't think I really have anything to be that upset about. If you really think about it, Mum's not asking to much. It's not like she's telling me to sleep with to guy. What's 10 minutes out of my life? Considering It will be spent making small talk with Malfoy, my bet is it's 10 minutes I will never get back. Oh well, sometimes you have to make sacrifices to make other people happy. I tried that thing where you put yourself in the other person's shoes. Let me tell you, Malfoy's shoes aren't happy shoes. I couldn't really imagine being stuck in a house crammed full of people who hated me. By myself, without my family they're to support me. Speaking of family, what had happened to Malfoy's? I know his father was dead; Dad had killed the bastard himself. But what had happened to his mother? Apparently it was a touchy subject with Malfoy. Had his mother died? I was betting she had, but I couldn't be absolutely sure. Maybe I could make these meals a little more interesting. I could make it my goal to get to know him better, to see why he did the completely stupid things he did…to find out what happened to his mother. It was settled, at lunchtime, when I went to bring him his meal, I would learn anout him. By the end of this year, I would know everything there is to know about Draco Malfoy. Knowing what kinds of things went through Malfoy's head would probably make me feel a little bit safer too. A predictable enemy is much less dangerous, or intimidating. It was actually beginning to seem fun, I had always loved a challenge, and making a Malfoy open up to a Weasely was not exactly going to be a walk in the park. I smiled to myself and got up, stretching. I though about going down to the pitch and whooping Ron's ass at a quick scrimmage. I could use a good broom ride. I slowly made my way over to the broom shed and pulled out my old Comet 96. It wasn't the fastest broom on the market, but it was reliable and I knew it like the back of my hand. I didn't fancy my walking all the way down to the pitch so I mounted and kicked off.

The wind whipped around me, forcing my over sized pyjama shirt to snap in the air. I laughed out loud realising how ridiculous I must look on a broom in my little froggie shorts. I soared down to the pitch, and had to roll over in mid air as Ron almost crashed right into me. He swore violently, and I couldn't help laughing again.

"Watch where your going twerp!" he snapped at me, "I almost knocked you off your broom!" I grinned at him.

"You didn't though, did you?" He just scowled at me. We sat, suspended in mid air, the emerald green grass miles below us.

"What makes you think we want you to play anyway? There will be three people if you join, three's an odd number." He pointed out, looking smug. I snorted.

"Did you figure that out all by yourself?" Ron's face turned an almost purple colour, and I figured I had better do something before he popped a blood vessel. "Calm down, I'm joking. Get Hermione to play, then we'll have four." He narrowed his eyes at me.

"You know Hermione doesn't like Quidditch." He said suspiciously. I smirked at him.

"She can share a broom with you." I said, knowing how he would react. His face, which had slowly been turning back to its original colour, blushed a furious red again.

"That's hardly fair, she'll way me down," He said, but his anger had diminished, and his voice was now soft and almost sheepish. I shrugged.

"Whatever, it's your prerogative." I was about to fly off, but Harry came over to see what all the fuss was about.

"Hi Harry." I said, he grinned at me

"What's going on? Ron, I thought we were going to pass the Quaffle." Ron's face and ears were still viciously red. Harry's grin widened when he saw the flustered state of his best mate.

"Ginny here decided she wants to play. Tell her no, she'll listen to you." He said, but his eyes betrayed him and he glanced down at Hermione who had a think dusty tomb spread over her lap and seemed to be completely absorbed in her book. Harry shrugged.

"I don't see why she can't play, we can pass it around in a circle." Harry said reasonabley. It was amusing to see Ron's face switch from relief to disappointment, to confusion, then finaly, to frustration.

"I was thinking more of a scrimmage." I said before my brother could speak. "You and me against Ron and Hermione."

"But Ginny, you know Hermione doesn't-" It was like a lightbulb turned on over his head, and he flashed a sly grin at me, understanding my intentions. "Oh." He said. "Yeah, Hey Hermione!" He called down. Hermione looked up from her book.

"Yes?" She looked slightly surprised that the boys had stopped playing long enough to cal her name.

"You want to come play with us? You can share a broom with Ron, since you don't have your own." I said. For a moment she looked doubtful, then flustered.

"Well, I-" She stammered, I again couldn't help but grin. It wasn't often you saw Hermione self-conscious.

"It's settled then." I said, sitting up. "Ron, go fetch your team mate, Harry and I'll warm up." And with that, I flew off, leaving Ron and Hermione to blush together. Once Harry and I had sped out of hearing range we both burst out laughing.

"Wouldn't it be nice if they finally decided to get together?" I asked, warmth spreading into my heart as we watched Ron help Hermione onto the broom. It was an awkward task, and they kept stepping on each other's toes.

"Yeah." Harry agreed, his voice light and content. We watched them together in peaceful silence for a moment. "The world could use a little more happiness." He added. I nodded in agreement.

We never did end up playing a game, Ron and Hermione were too caught up in their private flying lesson. Harry and I passed the quaffle around for a while, and then decided to call it a day and break out the Gobstones. We left Hermione and Ron on the pitch and walked back to the broom shed, our brooms over our shoulders.

"You think those two will ever really get together?" I asked conversationally. The light breeze was blowing the sweet perfumed scent of flowers through the air. It was one of those days when your very aware that it's summer.

"I dunno. Probably. It's like they're made for each other." Harry said. "Both of them are stubborn, and pig-headed." I snorted; it was so true. "What do you think?" He asked, looking over at me lazily. I shrugged.

"I guess so. All I know is, I'm not ready to deal with all that crap yet. I just want normal back…whatever that means." Harry nodded at me, shifting his broom a little as we came up to the shed. I pulled open the creaky wooden door and rested my trusty Comet against the wall. Harry put his Firebolt next to it. I dusted my hands off on my pyjama top and sighed.

"Aww crap. I think I should change," I said, and Harry laughed.

"Good thought." He said, still laughing at me. I half-scowled, half-smiled at him.

"Be quiet and go get the Gobstones, I'll be back. I dashed up stairs and changed into a pair of comfortable jeans and an old t-shirt. Before I went back down, I glanced at myself in the mirror. My hair looked horrible from flying without a ponytail. It was tangles in knots and twisted up in odd places. I rummaged around in the mess on my desk and managed to retrieve a hair tie and pulled my hair up quickly. It looked a little better, but I knew if I took the time to run a brush through it I would actually look presentable. I shrugged, oh well, what could you do? I made my way downstairs and outside. Mum was bustling around in the kitchen, getting lunch ready. Lunch meant Malfoy…ugh. I shivered and tried to rid myself of such depressing thoughts.

I found Harry out in the garden, setting up the little gold and silver stones.

"You want first toss?" He asked, and I approached, I grinned at him.

"Sure." I took the stone from him and tossed it. I hit four of his silver stones out immediately. I'd always been really good at this game. When I was in my second year, people used to bet on me. We would set up Gobstone tournaments in the Gryffindor Common Room. After winning four of these tournaments in a row, no one would play with me any more, so I kind of had to give the game up by force. Harry was a good opponent though, I actually messed up twice. I narrowly dodged the stream of rancid smelling fluid that the stones spat at you when you screwed up. Harry laughed loudly at my expense and I glared at him, aimed, and knocked the last of his stones out in one toss.

"Ha! Who's laughing now?" I asked, grinning as hard as I could. Harry laughed again. He looked like he was about to answer when Mum appeared at the back door.

"Lunch is ready! Harry dear, go fetch Ron and Hermione, Ginny, help me in the kitchen." And she disappeared again. Harry went off towards the pitch, and I gathered up the Gobstones then made my way to the kitchen. I had just finished setting the table when every one filed in to eat. Mum had made huge triple-decker sandwiches, each one proudly brandishing a green olive impaled with a toothpick. Ron practically inhaled two of the huge sandwiches, and was just about to take a bite from his third when mum pulled it away from him. He made a low growling noise of protest, nearly animal like. It caused both Hermione and myself to begin giggling uncontrollably.

"I was going to eat that!" He whined, and Mum scowled at him, making me laugh harder.

"We need to save some for our guest!" She snapped at him, and put the sandwich on a separate plate on the counter. This made me stop laughing, as I remembered I would be the one to deliver that particular sandwich. Ron looked as if he were going to argue, but with one fiery glare from Mum; he simply sank back into his seat and pouted. I forced myself to eat slowly, trying to stall the inevitable trip up the stairs. Harry, Ron and Hermione had all finished a while ago and there was no one in the kitchen but myself and Mum, when she finally grew impatient.

"Let's go Ginny, daylight won't last forever." She said, and I was forced to finish my last bite grudgingly. She thrust Malfoy's sandwich at me impatiently and I glared at her with everything I had. I stomped up the stairs, trying to drown out her voice as she called after me.

"And you stay with him until he finishes every last bite!" I scowled at no one until I was standing in front of his door once again. Merlin, I was beginning to despise this door. I knocked rather loudly, and it only took a moment for it to open. There he was, in all his pale glory, staring at me as if I were from another planet.

"Yes?" He asked, annoyance etched in every fibre of his being. He so obviously wanted me to simply leave him alone, why did Mum insist I keep him company?

"Food." I managed to say, holding the plate out to him. He took it from me with out another word and began to close the door. With out thinking, I stopped it from closing with my foot. An expression of pure astonishment crossed his face, and then it fell back it its cool indifferent air.

"What are you doing?" He asked me, almost as if he were commenting on the weather. I felt the blood rush to my face and I lost my ability to keep eye contact with him. I glanced away, the heat in my cheeks increasing.

"My Mother says I have to keep you company while you eat." I said quietly. I wished in that moment that I could simply disintegrate and disappear with whatever dignity I had left. He sneered at me with a look that could be nothing but disgust.

"I assure you, I am quite capable of eating on my own. This may be hard for you to understand, as I'm sure your mother still spoon feeds you." Suddenly, the heat in my face was not embarrassment but rage. When I get angry, I don't think right. So, it wasn't until later that I realised just exactly how bold I was about to be. I grabbed the door and shoved it open, forcing my way into the room slamming the door behind me.

"Do you really think I want to sit here and force small talk with you while you eat? Hell no!" I poked him in the chest with my index finger, and his eyes widened in surprise. He seemed to be confused as to whether he should laugh, or blow up at me. Finally, he settled with mild amusement. I was too furious to be fascinated that a Malfoy could feel anything but contempt and hatred. "The fact is I don't have a choice, and you're just going to have to deal with it!" I jabbed him in the chest again, taking another step forward, forcing him to back up. "So, you are going to sit there, eat your sandwich and you are going to like it!" I snapped. I opened my mouth to continue, but I had completely vented out all my anger, and I no longer had the desire to scream at him anymore. I straightened up and took a deep calming breath, brushing a few stray strands of hair from my face. He rose an eyebrow at me,

"Are you finished?" He asked calmly. I looked at him suspiciously for a moment; then nodded.

"Yes." I said, letting out a breath i hadn't realised I was holding. He put the plate down beside his now empty breakfast plate, and went to the window. I gaped at him. The insufferable little-

"Aren't you going to eat it?" I think I stuttered. He looked over his shoulder at me, his expression still vaguely amused.

"No." He said, and turned back to the window. I gaped at him again. He was just going to leave it there? I couldn't leave until he finished it! Would Mum really know if I just left? Knowing her…yes. She would user her super Mother senses to detect my lies. Damn her and her super powers…

"So what, you're just going to make me sit here and wait until you decide to eat your lunch?" I asked, mortified. The room suddenly seemed so much smaller. The stale air was closing in around me. I suddenly felt like I was in the dungeon and again. I began shaking uncontrollably. My mind knew I was being ridiculous, but my body didn't want to listen. I could feel the blood drain from my face and my heart began to pound so hard I was sure Malfoy could hear it.

"It certainly looks that way doesn't it?" He asked. He glanced over at me and frowned. "Weasely, are you okay?" I took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. The dead air doing nothing to quell my sudden claustrophobia. I shook my head and backed up into the door. I slid down drawing my knees too my chin. He stared at me for a moment, completely confused.

"Weasely, what-?" I shook my head, taking deep rapid breaths, trying to force myself to calm down. What was wrong with me! I'm so obviously insane…oh Merlin, why couldn't I breath? I saw Malfoy roll his eyes in frusteration a moment before I buried my face in my knees.

"Weasely, if you tell me what's wrong I may be able to fix it." He snapped, impatience heavy in his voice.

"Can't…breath." I gasped, forcing myself to suck in huge a gulp full of stale air. I realised with a start I was hyperventilating. Gods, how pathetic can you get? I heard a creaking noise and I was pleasantly surprised to feel a cool breeze brush against me. My head snapped up immediately, only to find Malfoy had opened the window. Fresh air welled into the room, the soft scent of pansies, marigolds and lilies drifted through the air. The faint fragrance soothed away all the tense anxiety and I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes in pleasure. It only took a moment and I felt infinitely better. I stood up and stretched. The fresh air making me feel as light as a feather. I glanced over at Malfoy. He was leaning against the wall with his hands crammed into his pockets. I don't think I've ever seen him with a more cynical expression on his face.

"Do you indulge yourself in panic attacks often then?" He asked incredulously, and I got the feeling it was a hypothetical question. I stuck my tongue out at him like the mature seventeen-year-old girl I am. He snorted at me, but I paid him no mind. He had helped me. Which was wired, and most certainly not natural behaviour for a Malfoy. Perhaps he needed to see a doctor? I felt my face heat up in embarrassment for the second time that day.

"Malfoy, thanks…for helping me out I mean." I said quietly. He shrugged, and turned towards the window again, gazing lazily out across our yard.

"Despite what you may think, I am not a complete Jackass." I frowned at him, I guess there were two sides to everyone. "Don't get used to it though." He said sharply, turning away from the window to glare at me warningly. "I try to make a point not to help Weaselys out." I nodded understandingly.

"If there is anything I can do to thank you, just let me know." I said lightly. His eyes darkened at that comment and his gaze ran slowly down the contours of my body. I felt myself blush furiously. The old T-shirt I had on, that seconds ago had seemed completely acceptable, suddenly seemed skimpy and scandalous. I was starting to feel like I should only wear track pants and an overgrown sweater when I was around him. When he spoke, his voice was slightly husky.

"Anything?" He asked slyly, his old smirk spreading across his lips, and I took a small step back, and forced myself not to run from the room. My cheeks were still burning and I told myself I didn't like the way he was looking at me. He laughed softly, it sounded seductive and heavy, full of dark humour.

"I wouldn't say no to some Firewhisky." He said suddenly, completely surprising me. I gaped at him for what seemed like the umpteenth time today.

"Take the dirty plate and let me eat in peace. When you bring me up dinner smuggle me a bottle or two. That's what you can do to thank me." He looked so smug and pleased with himself I wanted to hex him. I settled for glaring at him as I snatched his plate and left the room. It wasn't until I was halfway down the stairs that I realised I had completely failed in my mission to learn something new about Malfoy. Then again; maybe not. I had learned Malfoy was capable of committing a self less act. I guess that was something. I resolved to be a little bit more in control of our next encounter, and went to wash his greasy breakfast plate. However, at the moment, I had bigger problems to worry about. Like, how I was going to get my hands on two bottles of Firewhisky by dinnertime.

(A/U) Sooo what did you think? I have a vague idea of what the next chapter is going to be like, but I am open to suggestions. If you give me an idea I like enough to use, I'll dedicate the chapter to you.

Anyway, I only like bits and pieces of this chapter. I feel like a lot if it didn't flow right. I also feel like I might have not gotten my point across in some areas. If anything confuses you, mention it in your review and I'll do my best to clear it up. Anyways, please leave me a nice long review. I learn most when you guys give me your honest opinions! It also gives me a good idea of where you all want this story to go!

Works Cited:

Damn her and her super powers...: My best friend said this to me on the walk home from school one day. She had copied a paragraphj of the english essay i wrote last cemester and her teacher magicaly discovered her plagerism...spooky I know.

So, till next time,

Ashen