Thoughts From the Edge of Oblivion

Happy birthday, to you…

Draco screamed into his gags, struggling against the bonds that tied him to the cold, ice covered slab of rock in the Malfoy Family crypt. He closed him eyes, small whimpers escaping him, tears fleeing from his eyes, freezing upon his face. He cried fully, pride broken and forgotten hours ago when his torment had started. His shredded dress robes were ripped off him and his eyes jerked open, stairing into the cold Grey ones above him…so much like his own.

Happy birthday, to you…

Forcing his gaze away from his father’s Draco shut his eyes again, forcing his mind to think, to come up with anything to escape dwelling on the pain. ‘1040, the times I actually called Hermione Granger a Mudblood’ He thought, wondering why the hell that was the first thought that came to him. His body arched up against his bonds as a knife bit into his skin and he whimpered. ‘Think, think! 5856, the times I asked father for a firebolt…OW! That bloody hurts...one year...the time I spent watching Potter as if he the most beautif…OW!!!-

Happy birthday, Dearest Draco…

‘If I were a storyteller, I’d tell you of true love…as story fresh and wild as a pure spring dove…’ Draco sang mentally, out of numerical statistics. ‘100 bottle of butterbeer on the wall, 100 bottles of butterbeer, take one down, pass it around, 99 bottles of butterbeer on the wall’

Happy birthday, to you.

Draco screamed aloud, body almost doubling in half as Lucius slid the knife into Draco, stabbing him in the heart. As darkness started to claim the young wizard he felt fresh tears slid down and freeze on his cheeks. One final through filtered through his dying mind. ‘All I wanted was a bloody singing cake…’