A Coward's Way Out

I can see marble floors. They are stained, stained with the blood of torture long past. The marble is veined with reddish stone, showing clear against the whiteness of the base.

I reach up, fingering my face. The smooth porcelain skin is marred by a cut, a perfect red line across my cheek. Forming a rune forever cut into my flesh. The Malfoy motto, contained within a symbol.

Sanguis est Potestas. Blood is Power.

But is it really? Does it matter how far back you can trace your bloodlines? Can you not improve upon a family?

I dare not voice these thoughts. I am a coward, valuing my life only. I would not hesitate to sell my soul. I already have.

My left forearm, diamond flesh broken by an ugly black skull, a snake coming out of the mouth. My link to the most powerful Dark Lord in history. My betrayal.

When I received it, standing silently next to my father, Harry was there. He was watching, an expression of horror on his face, one hand curled about the emergency Portkey around his neck. The one I gave him.

I can still see his face, clear green eyes confused. His hair, black and sweat matted. His skin bruised and bloody. I thought you cared, Draco. I thought you loved me. I thought you would never join the dark side.

I trusted you, Draco. You betrayed me.

He hated me once. He hates me again. In the midst of all his friends, all telling him; He's a liar Harry. You should never have trusted him. Turn away from him Harry, he won't come back.

I have no friends. They are all dead, or have joined the Dark Lord already. I am alone, in this small torture chamber. Only me, and a knife, handle encrusted with jewels. It was a gift, from Harry. Keep it with you, he whispered, always. Then you'll be safe.

The hilt is beautiful, a dragon and a lion standing proudly together. The dying sun is behind them, a blaze of rubies and emeralds. Meant for self-defence. A slight poison is worked into the blade. It will send the wounded into a light stupor.

Do you care Harry? Will you stand, shocked, when you hear the news? Do you still love me enough to honour my death? Or will you turn your face away from my body, not caring enough to weep.

I raise the dagger, my silver-grey eyes unreadable. The delicate blade catches the light, flaring the jewels into splendour. It is only fitting, that I die in state, as I know that Harry warded the blade. It will tell him I have used it. What will you look like Harry? Will those emerald eyes fill with tears, or, like mine, will they remain dry? Will the crystal drops slide down your cheek at my memory?

Maybe I can be happy now. See Harry? I didn't betray you. I never tortured or killed, Harry. Will you forgive me for doing what I must? I can't live like this, Love. Please cry for me, Harry. I will be happy then.

The dagger is placed on my left wrist. I take a breath, and cut. My ruby-red blood spills onto the marble floor. A coward's way out, my father's voice sniffs in my head. Despicable.

As I feel my last breath leaving me, I think, But that's what I am, aren't I Father. A coward.

With a coward's way out.