Barbed Velvet

He hated him with a passion so few knew. So few, yet far too many. He hated her as well. The cause of his pains...his suffering. Maybe his father caused him physical pain, but the girl? He laughed bitterly in the darkness. The girl...God, it hurt just to think about her. Pretending to be so innocent...and tearing him from the inside out. Her kisses were like barbed velvet...soft like spikes. He hated her...but why couldn't he walk away? It was like she had a spell on him...a chain he couldn't break. Falling into the shadows...falling...falling...he kept falling. There was no beginning, no end...just...nothing. No happiness, no optimism, only misery and hate. No options. Death Eater...or death. No choices. Who did Potter think he was?! Complaining and moping because he had no family... well, he had no family. A family hurled into nonexistence. The kids who had a happy childhood are the unluckiest of all. They think there will always be light...always happiness. They don't know about the death and the anguish. At least he grew up believing that everyone was worse off than they thought. Thinking everything is great, then they just are killed. Off the planet. One quick flash...and they're gone. The look on their faces! Priceless. Just priceless. He traced the stone wall. It was cold. But he didn't feel it...it could be fire and he wouldn't feel it.

He hated them all. Every last one of them.

The comfort of knowing someday there would be all night made him smirk. Night...dark and cold. His kind of time. He picked up his wand. Smooth...and mahogany...containing one dragon heartstring. He took it and threw it down. Ridiculous piece of overpriced wood. Would it help him in the afterlife? No...

Well, he had no alternative.

Life is kind of pointless...he thought. Miserable times followed by a senseless conclusion. He laughed...a cold, humorless laugh that would chill your bones and make you shake. How hilarious! He loathed everything about her! So why did he adore her...? Why couldn't he kill her...as he was told? He took his knife- his 13^th birthday present- and lifted it to his wrists. Crimson...elegant...beautiful liquid. Deep red...like her hair. Death was like a wind...you heard it, felt it, but couldn't see it. Icy...drenching cold...he smirked.

"So, Lucius...how does it feel? You're not going to have an heir...after you die...there won't be any Malfoys left," he whispered, and he fell to the ground.

The scarlet stained the emerald carpet.

"And Ginny! Amusing isn't it? I hope you realize that you're the cause of my pain. You're my curse. Worst than the Cruciatius," he laughed again, "you know what, darling? I hope you cause yourself more pain than everyone you've ever hurt. The annoyance of my life...the love of my life...but why do you care?! Life's just a bowl of cherries for you! Just wait, Ginny. Just wait until someone you love dies. Your screams will fill the room. Like mine did. Filling the room as demons swirl around you. But I don't hate you...no...of course not..." he opened his eyes. "I love you so much I hate you. I revolt you. You sicken me...you disgust me."

Darkness was blinding him. "I hate everything about you, Lucius. If you died when I was a baby, I wouldn't have cared. So I've said my goodbyes...and remember...ghosts of the past...there is no good. There is no evil. There is nothing."

Draco Malfoy laughed at the hilarity of it all. Only he knew the secret. And he was taking it to the grave.