Heroes

Heroes

Draco Malfoy looked back on his sorrowful life. The past was not something he liked to think about. He'd had some bad experiences and he wasn't very overjoyed to discuss them. True, that he did now have Cho, but sometimes he felt that Harry never trusted him. He wished that some people would just realize that he wasn't the best person in the world.... Just because he was rich, the heir of Slytherin, and hero in training, doesn't make his life easy.

Harry Potter looked over his scarlet Quidditch robes and thought to himself, "Life just isn't easy anymore, Cho was with Draco, and I'm also being placed with all these responsibilities because I'm the heir of Gryffindor... I just wish that, maybe, when people did good things, they actually got things they deserved, but not Draco; he got more than he deserved; he got my prize." The material felt rough on his skin and he realized he remembered the first time he ever flew, he was so happy, and felt so good. The wind had blown through him and made him light as air. But, somehow, those memories seemed like useless unfulfilled wishes.

I can't stand to fly

I'm not that naive

I'm just out to find

The better part of me

The first time I rode on a broomstick, I was six years old, and my father was oh so very proud when he saw how good I was. It was then that he had first shown any signs of being a father. He bought me the best racing broom there was and then he signed me up for Jr. Quidditch league. I played Seeker, and of course we won every game.

My only advantage of being Harry Potter was that the teachers seemed to notice me more; now some people might say it's a bad thing, and I agree sometimes, but it got me a spot on the Quidditch team. Nobody agrees with me when I think that the only reason they even thought of that was because of my history.

I'm more than a bird...I'm more than a plane

More than some pretty face beside a train

It's not easy to be me

I remember the first time on the Hogwarts Express...Ron asking me if I was "The" Harry Potter. Ginny was squealing to go see me, but her mum wouldn't let her. It was the second time I saw Draco. I remember he told me not to pick the losing side, and he outstretched his hand, waiting for me to shake it, yet I didn't.

Seeing as my father never truly loved me, he would never drop me off at the Hogwarts Express. My mum did for my first year, that was fun. I can recall asking Potter to join my dad's side, the dark side, and become a Death Eater. Only, he never shook my hand, told me he could judge people for himself. In a way, I'm glad he never shook my hand...for everything would now be different.

Wish that I could cry

Fall upon my knees

Find a way to lie

About a home I'll never see

"Cry," he said. "Cry, if you have to, if you can," but Draco pulled away from him and sat back against the cold dark marble of the mausoleum, shaking his silvery head. His face was blank, and dry of tears.

"No," he said. "I can't."

"There's nothing wrong with it," said Sirius gently. "Enough has happened to you; you're more than entitled."

"No," Draco said again, more urgently this time, "I can't," and he turned his head back towards the mausoleum, and fell silent. And Sirius sat, silently, with him, until the sun came up and its light broke over the Manor, and it was Harry's birthday.

It may sound absurd...but don't be naive

Even Heroes have the right to bleed

I may be disturbed...but won't you concede

Even Heroes have the right to dream

It's not easy to be me

You know that rap singer, Eminem, who once said he used to cut himself to see how much he'd bleed? Well, I did that, still do sometimes. I get an excitement I never get, not in Quidditch, not in yelling at my father, when I cut myself. Only in a specific place too. Exactly in my right inner forearm, where the Dark Mark is supposed to go, and where it never will. Not now anyways....

I am Harry Potter, and I repeat this only to let you understand the importance of this. That mark above my eyes, it's not an ordinary cut. But you already know that. Yes, I got it from Voldemort and he's supposed to have transferred some of himself into me that night. Well, I know now that some of Tom Riddle was definitely transferred into me. I feel the way I'm sure he must have. People expect too much of me. They think I'm not allowed to be anything I want; they think I can protect them. They think if I'm hurt (only on the outside of course, maybe a cut or a scrape), then the world shall end. Well it won't...I'll prove just that.

Up, up and away...away from me

It's all right...you can all sleep sound tonight

I'm not crazy...or anything...

He He, second year when I was supposed to have been the culprit in the Chamber of Secrets, was not a fun time. In fact whenever I think I've reached the end, and all time low. I think of that. A time when maybe two or three people would talk to me and the rest would run in fear of even hearing my name. Those people were rather stupid, but still, it helps me. I know I have been lower, and it cheers me up. I know thinking of that will help me; I know I'll never do anything to my self if I didn't then.

I wish I hadn't proven my faith to the Slytherins.I wish I could change all of that. I don't want to be evil, I want to be me. But, I guess either way, I was going to have to be in Slytherin, better to have friends, then not to. But it doesn't matter. In the End, It doesn't even matter.

I can't stand to fly

I'm not that naive

Men weren't meant to ride

With clouds between their knees

How many of you guys out there have ever wished to die? I have and I do, I'm admitting it. I want to die. There, I've said it, but I've not told you why. Take a guess. My father hates me. I'm Draco Malfoy, hated by plenty others. I'm not stupid I know there must have been another reason of me being Slytherins heir, the fact that Slytherin killed himself, well, it just makes me wonder, why don't I just follow in his footsteps?

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet

Digging for kryptonite on this one way street

Only a man in a funny red sheet

Looking for special things inside of me

I'm a fraud and I know it. I'm truly fake. I'm not brave or anything. Gryffindor was not my right house. I wish it to be over. Everything to be over. It's too much responsibility. I hate the world in which I came from. I want to go back to being normal, but I'm not normal...I'm Harry Potter, the boy who lived. And live I shall, for there is no point in disappointing those I love, and I do love many.

It's not easy to be me.

And with one swift movement, Draco raised his wand to his heart and muttered the unblock able curse, "Avada Kedavra". And as quick as that, in one simple curse, the life of Draco Malfoy was over.... no one ever said it was easy