Author Notes: Hi there! This is my first every Harry Potter fanfic and no matter how many times I've read the books I'm bound to make mistakes, if you see one in the story I'd love for you to mail me/review with the correction! Any ideas you may have for the story are also very welcome! The chapters won't be super long as I prefer to keep them straight to the point and that way you get quicker updates! :)
Warning: There is evidence of self-harm in this story (within the first few chapters). I have no intention of offending anyone and hope that I am able to do this in a sensitive manner. Any thoughts or comments on this, I urge you to contact me.
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I do not own Harry Potter; otherwise the books would never end ;). Everything belongs to the rightful owners.
Chapter 1 – Control and Relief.
He gently pressed the cool object against the pale skin of his left forearm, his mouth dry with anticipation. Carefully dragging it down his arm, he watched as the blood began to escape through the broken flesh. He savoured those few seconds. For those few seconds he felt nothing but control and relief. They ran through his body intoxicating his organs, before quickly escaping alongside his blood, leaving only regret and need in its path. He should stop, even he knows that, but the need for release is too much and he grasps for the blade again, now placed in the sink.
He looks down at the mark engraved on his left forearm. The thick black lines forming a pattern of evil, evil he knew all too well. The mark meant nothing anymore, but to him it was everything. A constant reminder of his past, a sign of the life he despised, a life he would never have chosen. For those few seconds where the blood trickled over it, masking it, he had control. It was his choice, his life. He wasn't a reformed death eater or a person to be feared, he was nothing but himself.
He rests his sweaty forehead against the cool mirror, taking in his dishevelled appearance. His blond hair hung limply around his face, framing his stormy grey eyes. His collar had been pulled into a comfortable manner and his Slytherin tie draped loosely over his shoulders. Yet despite his appearance, he looked like any other student. He looked normal. Something he'd longed for, normal, he thought. Not to be feared by some or threatened by others. To be seen as a fellow student not a death eater. For those few moments, he felt happy. Not happy - satisfied, he corrected himself. His eyes travelled slowly south of his reflection until they fell back upon it, and his anger flared. His worst flaw. His worst mistake. The only thing he couldn't change.
He gently pressed the tip of the sharp blade back against his skin. Quickly applying pressure, he ran it over the mark, watching as it vanished into a sea of deep red. As the relief flooded his veins again, he felt himself. It was his choice. He felt like the Draco Malfoy he had always wanted to be.
Author's Notes: Love it? Hate it? Shall I continue? I beg you all for reviews, it keeps me going!