Denied Existence

Fleeing from the evil, only to be followed....

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Draco's POV

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How could he say such a thing?

"To me, you don't exist anymore." Is that supposed to mean something to me? Is it supposed to worry me that he's going to ignore me? That's pretty much what he meant, wasn't it?

Well, it doesn't. What's got me worried is that he saw my Dark Mark. He's probably running to Dumbledore right now. If he tells anyone, I'm doomed. Everyone would believe Harry fucking Potter and then get Dumbledore to expel me. I'll have to go home to Mother and Father. Father would be furious, all the Death Eaters would look upon me with pity...

I couldn't bear that. I couldn't!

Perhaps...I could bribe the almighty Harry Potter. I may not exist to him, but my money might...but no, he has enough money already. What do I have that he doesn't?

Hm. Good looks? Charm? Brains? Wit?

But, I could give him none of those.

I muse upon that for several minutes and I can think of absolutely nothing. I sigh, get out of the bed and walk to my dormitories. I'll just have to wait and see what he would like from me.

*

It's been weeks. Every day I expect the Professors to converge on me, to order me to be kicked out. But nothing happens. It's so strange; I'd have thought he would've told by now.

I still haven't been able to figure out what to do to keep his mouth shut.

I sigh disconsolately as I plop into my seat for Potions. Usually I'm happy around this time, seeing as how it's my best subject, but today nothing seemed to be going right.

I stare at Professor Snape with bleary eyes, trying to focus.

"Today I want all of you to make 3 simple potions that you've already done and probably forgotten. You will have to find all the ingredients and how to make it. It should be pretty easy, but I never know with this class." Here he sneered," For each of you I have chosen it randomly from all the potions we've done this year. We will test all of them tomorrow."

He started passing out little piece of papers. When I received mine, I groaned:

Fake Death. (A potion that makes you seem dead when you aren't)

Veritaserum (a truth serum)

Sobbing Solution. (Used to make you or others cry, for various reasons.)

Simple?! These were far from simple! All of these were difficult, except perhaps for the last one, even for me. I didn't know how I was going to make all these before tomorrow's potion lesson, but I will try.

*

I put the vial of Sobbing Solution away, the contents smoking a little. Yawning, I glance at the clock: 3:52. Not even bothering to change into my pajamas, I stumble up the stairs to my dormitory and collapse on my bed.

I dream.

When I wake up, I feel utterly sad and... lonely.

It is a strange emotion, because I have never felt it before. When I was young "Daddy's friends" and their children had surrounded me. I was never alone. Even when I slept at night, a house elf was set there to watch over me, for my father had many enemies. When I got to Hogwarts, Crabbe and Goyle were always there, guarding and threatening.

I don't like this feeling.

As I go through the day, the feeling only intensifies. I realize I am truly surrounded by fools and when I see Harry and his friends, I wonder for a brief second what it would be like to have friends like those.

I am unusually withdrawn today, but no one notices, which makes me feel even lonelier. Though so many students surround me, I am not connected at all with any of them; I don't care what happens to them. No one cares what happens to me. I am the only one utterly and horrifyingly alone.

I walk into Potions with my head bowed; my shoulders slumped, my hair covering my face. I sit down, set up my Potions, all the while keeping my eyes fixed firmly on my hands. I didn't want to see all the happy, chattering, and laughing people. All the people who had something I didn't.

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3^rd person POV

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Draco closed the door to his dorm room and, sighing, rested the back of his head against the door. Silently he cast a spell on his door, ensuring his privacy.

Silently, Draco slid into a sitting position, leaning his head on the door, hugging his legs to himself. He stared ahead through the window, watching the sun set. Watching as darkness enveloped the land, making the trees and mountains, those that were so clear just a few moments ago, disappear.

Silently he began to laugh, his shoulders shaking, laughing so hard that tears streaked down his cheeks the moon making them shine. Tears.

Silent tears.

His laughing-or crying, he didn't know which- stopped as he felt the silence press in upon him, suffocating him.

Silence.

Silence meant he was alone, no one wanted to talk to him, no one would listen to what he said, no one, no one....

Angrily, he stood up and walked swiftly to his desk, wiping his cheeks with the sleeve of his robes. The blonde picked up his journal and breathed on the lock. The lock melted. He opened it, took out a quill and stared at the blank page in front of him.

Then, he began to write, the swift scratching of his quill breaking the silence, making it relinquish its hold on Draco.

April 19

I...don't exist.

It's so sad. And rather funny, too. In a sad way. All the Slytherins smirk and sneer at those bedazzled by Potter, and yet they are just as bad as the Muggle-loving fools, if not worse. Potter's blithe silent treatment should not have affected my status, if it was true what they claimed. But it did. Now I am just another face in the crowd of aces, another Slytherin, my superiority left unrecognized. I can't believe Harry-

How strange. I just felt air on my neck, as if someone was standing behind me, reading my journal over my shoulder. But that's impossible; I locked the door with a very strong spell-it's impossible to break for any witch or wizard short of Voldemort.

Voldemort.

Could it be? But no, I guess I'm becoming paranoid, it's probably just the wind or something.

I'll just go and close the window-

--The window was closed. Oh shit, why would Voldemort spy on me? Perhaps he doubts my loyalty...? But what would cause him to do so?

Oh, no...what if what Professor Snape said was true?

Draco stopped writing abruptly, the Potion's Master's voice ringing in his ears, "He'll take and take from you, until you have nothing left but the Death Eaters and him..."

"I don't have anything left." Draco whispered, then his voice rose, "Did you hear that, my Lord?" sarcasm dripped off the last word.

"You can't take from me, for I have nothing!" he half-shrieked. "I am nothing! Nothing can only have nothing!" He began to laugh, maniacally, "So what can you take, Lord? My life? It means little to me. My soul? Like I have one. There is nothing you can do to me that has not already been done..."

30 minutes later found Draco slumped on his bed, muttering hoarsely,

"Nothing...nothing...nothing...nothing...nothing..." Silent tears streaking down his face.

"I've bitten the poisoned apple and will now lie in the eternal sleep...nothing now has a name. It's Draco." And his tears began to dry.

*

Harry sighed, dragging his hand through his hair, "Hermione, can't you just drop it?" he asked, frowning as his fingers caught on a snag in his hair.

Hermione, her tone tired, finally gave up, "Fine. If you don't want to go to the Ball, then I guess it's your choice. I just think you should go." She turned around and climbed through the portrait hole, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

Harry smiled ruefully and began to climb up the stairs to his dorm room.

*

Ever since April 19^th, most everyone had noticed a marked change in Draco Malfoy. He hardly spoke anymore, only dully answering monosyllabically when asked questions he had to answer. His usual impeccable looks became disheveled, his hair becoming almost as greasy as Snape's.

He only did what was absolutely necessary to get a passing grade, always barely squeaking by. After all, he did want to leave the Hellhole that was Hogwarts. He didn't even flinch when all the Howlers from his parents arrived. His eyes always held a dull, empty gaze.

He didn't seem to care, at all. About anything.

On the day of the ball, he found himself going, though it was most certainly not willingly. Professor Flitwick, in a fit of generosity, had said whoever attended the ball would have a passing grade.

An absolute necessity.

Draco lazily waved his wand, turning a uniform robe into a silvery-grey color that matched his eyes. He put it on, ran a comb through his hair, and then went through the common room, straight towards the Great Hall.

He went directly towards Flitwick and said, "I'm present. Now give me my passing grade so I could leave this corny thing."

Flitwick, quite taken aback said, "Why, Mr. Malfoy. Wouldn't you want to have a little fun? Loosen up a bit, yes?"

Draco just stared at Flitwick, eyes hard.

"You have the grade. Now go and have some fun!" Flitwick cried gaily, turning back to the conversation he'd been having with Professor Sprout.

Satisfied, Draco made for the door, but couldn't get through because of the whole student body trying to cram through it simultaneously. Irritably he sat down in a dark corner, waiting for the entrance to be empty.

Finally, all the students were in and he got up, striding swiftly to the door.

Which slammed in his face.

Furious, he beat his fists against it, yelling for whoever was on the other side to open the door. But, the music that was pounding loudly behind him drowned him out.

He sat back down, his eyes showing emotions that had long been lost as they glittered furiously. Plenty of girls asked him to dance, but he always declined with a cold, "No." and then as an after thought, "Thanks."

Midway through, as a headache developed in his head, pounding to the music, he felt a prickle on his left arm. The prickle swiftly became a jabbing pain, then a burning pain. The Dark Mark!

Panicking, he ran to the doors, pounding on them again. And, surprisingly, they swung open. He all but stumbled into the Entrance Hall, coming to kneel besides one of the suits of armor. The blond ripped his left arm sleeve back, showing the Dark Mark as it seemed to leer at him, burning blackly in his arm.

Pain! Pain as when he had first been Marked! No, he didn't want the pain! Make the pain go away!

Suddenly, a knife was in his hand. He recognized it as the knife his father had given him on the day before he was Marked. Without thinking, he stabbed the knife right into the middle of that grinning skull, trying to carve away the Mark. That Mark that had brought him so much pain, that was bringing him so much pain that he couldn't feel the knife as it went again and again into his flesh.

"Nothing can't be hurt...nothing can't be hurt...nothing can't be hurt..." he started to chant, as the blood poured red down his arm, as the Mark's black lines didn't seem to disappear.

Strong arms grabbed his hand, prying the knife from his hand. The knife flew across the Hall, clattering onto the floor ten feet away.

Draco stared blankly down at his bloodied Mark, still muttering, "Nothing...can't be hurt...I can't...be hurt. I won't...be hurt..."

"Draco."

His head snapped up to look into green piercing eyes, and he began to whimper.

"Nonononono!"

"Draco, stop it."

Draco started rocking on the floor, rocking in his own blood, "Nothing can't be hurt, but Draco can, nothing can't be hurt, but Draco can. Draco can! Draco doesn't want to get hurt!"

He felt himself being lifted, but in the red haze that was his mind he was still on the floor, still...nothing.

A fire crackled, warming his flesh, and he found himself on a comfortable couch. Then, gentle arms drew him into an embrace.

"Shh...Draco." Gentle fingers stroked his hair, soothingly, calming. "I won't hurt you, you won't be hurt, I'll make sure of that." A gentle hand lifted Draco's face, gentle lips came down over his. It was a chaste kiss, lasting no more than a moment.

Staring in wonder at Harry, Draco lifted two fingers to his lips then spoke, "I exist."

Kissed by his true love, the beautiful prince was woken from his eternal sleep...