In all his life Draco only wanted to be the best, to succeed everyone around him and prove that he was worthy of his long lived family name.
Sitting in the great hall for supper Draco glared down at his plate. His mind rested on the daunting task that would soon come before him, yet the word burden or responsibility seemed more fitting for the emotions that harbored inside him. It was his responsibility to carry out his mission, but it was also his burden that he would continue to shoulder for as long as he remained alive.
Feeling no stirring appetite Draco retreated and wandered the bleak halls, his eyes following the dimming sconces and small cracks alongside the aging stone, he felt as if he was buzzing. Draco felt utterly calm and void of any real feeling, he was floating and at the same time he was simply hovering over his own body, watching it tread further down the hallway, just like a ghost.
Draco shivered, the involuntary movement brought him out of his placid state. He had walked down a completely bare and empty hall, it reminded him of the manor. The large estate had once felt like a home to Draco, during a time before; before everything happened, a time in which he was a young boy and the manor halls were decorated with black and silver, the expected elegance of a pureblood noble house. Since then the manor was stripped of its elegance and in turn it was replaced with ugliness, the stench of dark witches and wizards roamed his loved house and the many marks and remanence of dark arts stained the walls.
Feeling the time and exhaustion catch up with him Draco made his way to his dorm, promptly falling and submerging himself within the calming sheets. There was no view or window to gaze out upon, no books he had not already read, nothing to ease his woes. Moving to lay on his back, Draco thought of a memory.
He and his mother sitting by the fireplace, her hands in his hair all the while humming a light tune. She talked on and on about a multitude of things but Draco's favorite was when she would talk about the patronus charm, she’d share the memory’s she thought of when conjuring, it was an out of body experience for Draco to hear his mothers stories of his father, it was like the last 10 years of all his father had done were cleansed from him. Sometimes he couldn’t fathom the idea of his father being as kind of his mother portrayed him to be, but who was Draco to question what his mother had seen and experienced.
He especially loved seeing her cast her patronus, a gleam of light and a white feathered dove soared above them, it flowed like a stream of water. His mother had told him that doves were very romantic birds and that her patronus reminded her of the love she would always feel for Lucius Malfoy.
Draco hoped that he too would find love just as his mother did but just like his unescapable mission it would be impossible.
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Casting spells, while Draco did this basically everyday in class, it always felt so joyous and fulfilling to him. Casting spells to assist himself or help others made him feel good, like he was good.
The first time he was forced to cast a spell to hurt someone, to actually hurt someone, not talking petty hexes and pranks like he often pulled at school. Draco puked, he could remember the stench of his bodily fluids, the coldness of the room, and the sound of screams that he caused out of someone.
The way they begged and pleaded for their pain to stop, only for Draco to continue and torture them. He remembered the sadistic looks on the faces around him and how they looked so insane, and he remembered his face, the way it showed nothing, no malice, hatred, disgust, just nothing. He must be a monster to not have felt anything, but the truth is he felt so much, too much for him to show and so he bottled everything and swallowed his feelings whole.
After all
Malfoy’s do not show weakness
Draco had been pondering in his own mind for far too long, all day he had sat in his shade drawn room and replayed everything that he had ever done in life, every malicious act, sly grin and snarky comment. It wasn’t those people whom he had said those things too who deserved it, it was Draco who deserved all his own cruel words. He was just crippling with self pity and insecurity, it made sense as it was his own fault that he was deprived of happiness, his own disparaging handiwork of insults not only destroyed others but himself as well.
More time went by as Draco weighed his life, until he decided enough was enough, trudging up and out of the castle dungeons Draco departed to the best place he could think of, the library. Albeit Draco read all his books from his personal shelf, there was no way that he could have read all Hogwarts’ impressively large and extensive collection of literacy. Grabbing a selection of books Draco placed himself by a window to revel in the light sun rays, emerging himself in his chosen novels, the sun laid delicate on his pale hair, his soft breathing barely emerging a sound as Draco’s eyes set to rest.
Disrupting the fatigued boys sleep a black falcon tapped on the window glass, the sunset glow peering in the background. Draco shifted upwards, and let the owl perch itself on the inside ledge. The bird carried a simple folded note with a dark stamp. Sucking in a breath he opened the letter and carefully read the contents.
—
Draco my hindrance of a son, you are to complete your duty tonight before dawn. I expect that you know what must be done.
Do not slander the Malfoy name.
—
It was a letter from his father of all people, he could distinctly hear the tone of voice in which his father would have worded out.
Draco placed a hand on his mouth, he felt sick, he’d rather kill himself then do what he was told. Leaning over Draco heaved heavy breaths, his skin slick with sweat and lips chapped, he was dizzy and yet all too aware of what he had to do.
His mind racked with ideas on how to get out of it, nothing with a shred of success came to him. He was stuck, trapped in a fate in which he could not escape, a fate that would end in someone's death. He couldn’t take it, Draco ripped at his hair while his heart pounded, but what could he do? That’s right, there was nothing, he was killing someone tonight.
Staggering and gasping Draco stumbles back to his dorm, hiding from any peering eyes along the way.
Teetering his way, Draco sits at his desk and pulls out paper and a sharp white feathered quill.
Draco pricked his finger with the quill, digging deeper into the thin skin, small bits of blood bubbling to the surface. Cringing as Draco pulls out the quill, he places it onto the empty parchment. Digging, stabbing and twisting deeper into his flesh, Draco winces and indulges himself with pain as fresh red blood trill down his hand and creates a small pool on the dark wooden desk.
Discarding the fact that his blood is staining everything, Draco folds the paper and makes his way to the final destination.
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The astronomy tower is where it will end, blood will be spilled. There's no gentle breeze, the air is still as a corpse. Deciding that there's no better time to send his letter, Draco pulls it out and sends it on its way.
Breathing in Draco wonders how long it’ll be until the final act starts, how long does he have, how long will it take?
A swirl and a crack of lighting erupts as none other than headmaster Albus Dumblrdore stands in front of the ever pitiful Draco Malfoy. They stand silent, Draco breathing erratically and Dumbldore with a stagnant expression.
“Mr. Malfoy” Albus speaks.
“STOP IT!” Draco looks at him wildly, unsheathing his wand.
“You do not call me that! I have to!” Draco says, his voice increasing in volume.
“I HAVE TO KILL YOU I- have no other option” He screams at the aging man.
Everything Draco had prepared for his entire life, the reason he was still alive, it’s the only way, the only option, He rather-
He rather.
I’d rather kill myself
I mean he was.
Killing someone tonight..
Draco starts to laugh, a cracked expression on his face as he twists crazed by his newfound enlightenment.
“Someone will die” He spoke, staring at the headmaster.
“But” Mental as he sounded and looked Draco was ecstatic.
Point his wand at himself, aimed at his head. Albus staring at Draco’s deranged behavior with slightly wide eyes.
“You're not the one who is dying tonight” Draco gleams.
“Draco my boy I am already dying there is no need-”
“SHUT IT” Draco warns. Albus bares no response.
“Finally after all these years of worthless studies, preparation and following my goddamn father’s orders. I will- I will have control!” Draco blares out, tears rolling off his face.
“IT’S MY LIFE AND I’LL FUCKING TAKE IT MYSELF!” Screaming so hard his vocal cords run raw.
Focusing his aim on his forehead Draco mutters softly to himself his final action
A blink of blue instead of green
“Avada kedavr-”
His wand is ripped out of his hand.
Failed blue light
His only final act, stolen.