Alone

Draco finally emerged from his room. It had been days. A house-elf had brought him his food, and there was a bathroom attached to the room. Draco would have stayed there longer but he had to retrieve the things he need for school, which started tomorrow. Two more years of Hogwarts and then he was free. Free from his teachers, free from Dumbledore, and especially free from his father. His father was the entire reason Draco had locked himself away from the rest of the world. Lucius Malfoy had poisoned him.

All through Draco's upbringing there was only one thing that was always there; he was going to be a Death Eater. He would follow in his father's footsteps. Now that he no longer wanted that, there was nothing there for Draco. He had no idea what would happen if he told his father that he didn't want what Lucius had. How did you just say something like that? How could some say to their father that they wanted no part of their lifestyle? Draco couldn't. He just couldn't. Not because he didn't want to. Oh, he wanted to. He wanted to spite his father for everything that had happened over the summer. No, he wouldn't. He simply couldn't. Lucius would kill him, as simple as that. If Draco was a hindrance, Draco would have to die. Lucius wouldn't have a problem killing him either. He had been abusing his son since the boy was five.

Draco also knew that if he and his father spoke it would be inevitable that they would talk about his future. That's all they talked about. If they started talking about Draco being a Death Eater, he didn't know how long he could keep to himself the fact that he hated Voldemort. So, Draco simply avoided his father. It wasn't too hard considering they lived in a huge mansion and Lucius wasn't home often. Unfortunately, Lucius wanted to talk to Draco, and Lucius could easily find his son.

Tired of being what you want me to be

Feeling so faithless, lost under the surface.

"Draco, where have you been for the past week? I was beginning to worry," drawled a voice somewhere close behind Draco. It gave him chills. He hadn't even heard Lucius come in the room.

"Well, daddy dearest," the sixteen-year-old shot back sarcastically, not even bothering to turn around, "if you had come to my room, or even the south wing, you may have found out."

Draco felt a hand squeezing his shoulder tightly. "Show some respect for your father," Lucius whispered icily in Draco's ear.

Draco wrenched himself out of his father's grip. "I don't need a father."

Lucius laughed coldly. "Is that so? Where would you be without me? You wouldn't be alive. You wouldn't be wealthy and respected in your community--"

Draco let out a laugh of his own at this, "You think they still respect you? Do you honestly think that anyone would give a shit if you died right now? You are hated. You have made me hated."

"You have made yourself hated. I can't do everything for you."

"You taught me how to treat people! You taught me nothing but lies!"

I don't know what you're expecting of me

But under the pressure of walking in your shoes

Draco whipped out his wand and shouted, "Discordus!" It was a spell to confuse the person it was shot at, but Lucius muttered something and blocked it, shaking his head.

"I taught you everything worth knowing. Do you honestly think you can beat me?" he whispered, slowly, coldly. "Crucio!" Lucius shouted. Draco had never imagined it'd be this bad. He dropped to his knees, feeling as though daggers were piercing into his every bit of flesh, muscle and bone. He didn't feel as though he would ever be able to breathe, let alone talk again, he was screaming so loudly, fiercely, intensely. It seemed ages before another sound broke through his screams, the scream of a woman; the scream of his mother.

"Lucius! No! Not Draco! Please not Draco!" Narcissa pleaded with her husband. The pain stopped. Draco realized he was lying flat on his back, soaked in sweat. He gasped for air, numbly watching his parents fight. They only fought over him. Narcissa hated the way Lucius treated Draco. Lucius though she was weak, and not worth considering. They always bickered about him. Maybe they would be better off if he hadn't been born. Yes, that was it. They would be better off with out Draco.

Caught in the undertow, just caught in the undertow

Every step that I take is another mistake to you

Draco struggled to his feet, regaining himself. Neither of his parents noticed. He was sick of them fighting. He had wanted to make a point to his father. Yes, Narcissa had saved him, but she had also interrupted. Draco wanted to fight his father. He didn't care if he lost. He hated Lucius and wanted him to know it. No matter what the consequence. It wasn't very good logic, but Draco went by impulse.

"Stupefy!" Narcissa'a voice was lost as she toppled over, onto the couch, frozen. "Sorry mother, I don't want this interrupted," Draco said quietly.

"You are an idiot. No son of mine could possibly be this idiotic. Then again, your mother is a fool, too. You must take after her," Lucius said laughing.

"SHUT UP!" Draco lunged at Lucius, disregarding all thoughts of a wand, or that his father was a better fighter than him, or anything but hurting him, for that matter. Lucius was knocked down and Draco punched him ferociously a few times before Lucius got his wits back. Lucius grabbed Draco's wrists with surprising strength and threw the boy off of him. He stood, towering over his son, who was struggling to get up. Lucius's foot upon Draco's stomach was holding him down. Lucius wiped away the blood that had been flowing out of his nose. He kicked Draco sharply in the head and picked up his wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" Lucius chanted. It was a simple spell, but in the hands of a wizard as powerful as Lucius Malfoy it did enough. Draco was lifted off the ground, over to the stairs that led to the basement. Lucius followed him and kicked him, releasing him from the spell. Draco tumbled down the stairs, landing head first, and unconscious.

"Bring him to his room," Lucius snapped at four frightened-looking house elves lurking nearby.

I've become so numb, I can't feel you there

Become so tired, so much more aware.

Draco woke up to sparkling lights. He was facing the acid green canopy on his four poster bed. He realized the lights were candles glowing, mockingly happily on either side of his bed. He turned his head and saw four house elves standing there, staring at him. They were all in matching green pillowcases, stained and almost brown, from all the work they'd seen.

"Master Malfoy is awake! Quick! We must cheer him up like Mistress Malfoy said!" squeaked one of them with huge blue eyes. The other three nodded and began tap dancing to a beat the first one was playing out on Draco's wardrobe.

"Now! Lambda!" squealed another who was seemingly female; since her voice was so high Draco was surprised his windows didn't break. All four started the Brazilian dance. Draco had had enough. Whatever his mother had told these house elves to do; she was obviously nutty when she did so.

"GET OUT!" he roared at the annoying house elves. They jumped and squeaked simultaneously, while tripping over themselves and each other to get out of Draco's room as quickly as possible. He leaned back into his pillows. His head was throbbing in several places. He guessed his right wrist was broken. There were bruises all over him. He might have a few broken ribs. He looked at the grandfather clock on the far side of the room. It told him that it was just past midnight. Eleven hours and he would be free of his father until summer. He didn't know what he'd do then.

I'm becoming this, all I want to do

Is be more like me and be less like you

There was always the prospect of his father. Burning hate filled Draco whenever he thought of Lucius. He had no idea how to face the looming prospect of his father. They were, after all, unbreakably attached, no matter how hard Draco tried to deny it. Not only were they family, but Lucius had cast several spells on Draco over the course of his life. No matter where Draco went, if Lucius wanted to find him, he could. The only way to break that bond was if one of them died. Draco had no plans for dying any time soon, no matter what he had thought earlier. He wasn't going to let his sorry excuse for a father scare him into death. Not now, not ever. As far as Draco knew, Lucius had no intention of dying soon either.

Draco sighed and got out of bed, attempting to ignore the spots that clouded his eyes and the pain that shot through his head when he stood. He couldn't ignore it. He sat back down. Draco suddenly realized he was hungry. There was nothing he could do about it if he couldn't stand up, however. He tried again. It took him a few steps before he felt light headed again, but this time there was no bed to catch him. He fell to his knees in the middle of the floor, cursing his weakness.

He stood up and went back to his bed. Draco sat cross legged on top of one of his many pillows. He had a lot of excess energy, unfortunately anytime he tried to use it, he nearly fainted. It was one thirty in the morning when a house elf came in timidly carrying a tray with what looked like a sour dough dinner roll and some soup on top of it. Draco took it and started eating ravenously. Strangely, the bowl never emptied. Draco didn't question his mother's cooking magic.

When Draco was full and was about to settle back to go to sleep Lucius walked in. Draco sat up quickly, back completely straight. He was completely tense, a cat ready to pounce, if he only could. He watched his father walk around to his bedside. The two looked into each other's cold gray eyes for a beat, but both looked away at the same time.

"Draco--"

"Forget it. I've heard the same apology a thousand times before. I've had beatings like this a thousand times before. This time, I'm not giving in. I don't belong to you."

Can't you see that you're smothering me?

Holding too tightly, afraid to loose control

"You are my son! You will listen to me as long as you are under my roof!" Lucius hissed at Draco.

"Lucky thing I'm leaving in nine hours then, huh?" Draco shot back, smirking. "I'm sick of you. I'm not going to be a Death Eater, so you can get that delusion out of your head. I won't come back for Christmas or Easter, so you can be sure to forget that, too. Hell, I may not come back ever. I'll find a new home, and job. If you cut me off financially, I'll make it. You won't destroy me, Lucius Malfoy. I won't let you."

"If that's what you want, fine. This will be your last five hours in my house. You're lucky I'm letting you stay until seven. You go by yourself to Hogwarts, buy your own cab with the two hundred pounds of muggle money I give you. You can have what I put in your trust fund. I believe it's about 5,000 Galleons. After that I expect you not to try to talk to me, your mother, or anyone associated with the Dark Lord. That includes Vincent and Gregory. I don't care if you continue going out with that Pansy girl," Lucius began to walked out of the room, his robes swishing behind him. "Oh yes, one more thing. Here's a tip. Swearing at people will do you no good."

Draco glared at his father icily, "Damn you."

Because everything you thought I would be

Has fallen apart, right in front of you

Draco didn't sleep at all that night. Rather, he finished packing. He actually left at six in the morning, rather than seven. He couldn't stand that house anymore anyway. The cab only took fifty dollars. He wondered why his father had given him so much. Could there perhaps be a bit of affection to be found in his ice cold father? Probably not. He was most likely being so nice for Narcissa's sake. She was, as always a loyal matriarch of the family. She was protective and loyal. Lucius hardly did anything without her approval first. Yes, it was all Narcissa's doing.

Draco walked onto platform nine and three quarters at eight-thirty. He had two and a half hours to wait. He sat on a bench and opened a book. Despite what most people thought of him, he really liked to read. He liked to escape from the hell that was his world. Some might say it was unhealthy for him to try to get away from reality, but there were worse means of escape. Draco knew Draco knew well what they were.

And I know I may end up failing too
But I know you were just like me with someone disappointed in you

I've become so numb