Valentines Fic 1
Learn to be Lonely
DdraigCoch Valentine Fic 2007
Song Fic (Child of Darkness)
Disclaimer: The usual. HP belongs to Jo Rowling, and the song was taken from the credits of Phantom of the Opera. Don't know who owns it, but it's not me.
Note: This is the first draft, and has yet to be BETAed or re-read. I appologize if it sucks.
Child of the wilderness
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
As far back as he could remember, the halls of Malfoy Manor had echoed with his footsteps. The vast empty hallways had taken his young footsteps, bounced them around off the cold stone and returned them tenfold. He’d close his eyes sometimes when he was playing alone in those halls, and run headlong from one end to the other, imagining that he was racing other children, that they were playing with him. But when his grey eyes opened again there was never anyone there, and the lie would make their absence worse. His father had watched an approved as his son put away childish games of make believe and sat by himself in the library, playing chess against himself.
Learn to find your way in darkness
Now the echoes only returned the one set of feet clicking determinedly against the stone floors and hating them like all the generations of Malfoys who had walked them. His father had blamed his Black blood for the reckless abandon with which he threw insults and the strength of his feelings. It wasn’t proper for a Malfoy to feel so much, his father said. What did he know? He was dead.
Who will be there for you?
Comfort and care for you?
Learn to be lonely
If he stopped for a moment he knew that he would feel the old stones which now belonged to him reaching out, their magic to his. He didn’t stop, didn’t even acknowledge it. What use were these stones to him now, on the run from both sides of an increasingly brutal war? He had his hands full just staying alive these days, without worrying over some mouldering old pile. The halls were even more desolate than he remembered though; two years without a Master had taken its toll on the manor. Draco tried to convince himself that he was glad, but the ghosts of his pretend friends still dogged his steps. A loving family. A friend to turn to. Someone who would not laugh at him when, at night, he cried and raged. The list of dieing dreams seemed to grow by the year, and the young blonde ignored it. But in the corner of his eyes were always the bodies.
Learn to be your one companion
He kept moving, ignoring the memories that assailed him and the portraits which hailed him. At school he would have stopped and yelled back at the insult to his pride. But there wasn’t anything left for him to defend, at least not to these old relics. At Hogwarts he’d had cronies - not friends, not really. One slip and they’d have had their knives in him before he could mutter ‘ow’. Even Patsy. In Slytherin, as his mother had said to him the day he first boarded the Hogwarts Express, at least you knew who your enemies were. She’d come up close and brushed a tiny kiss along the arch of his cheekbone, and he could remember her perfume even now; the contact was branded in his mind like each of Patsy’s cold kisses, and each pat of his shoulder by a fatherly hand. She came up close, kissed him and whispered in his ear ‘Everyone else’. Walking down a crumbling staircase in the western wing, Draco felt a familiar spark of anger burn a little brighter in his chest with the remembrance.
Never dream that
Out in the world
There are arms to hold you
“Ignorant half-blood midget...” He muttered to the silence, his long legs making short work of the crumbling spiral staircase. The spark burned harder for a moment as he remembered that punch the mud blood had given him years ago. Did she even realize that that was the warmest touch Draco had felt since he was a very small child? He hoped that she didn’t. That punch had burned with the hatred she felt for him. So did Weasley and Harry’s punches. If he ever felt inclined to be honest, and that was rare enough Merlin knew, then... it didn’t matter. Old news. Dead like the stones and the little nest of death eaters which passed for ‘family’. But still, as one of the Manor’s usual draughts whipped by, wrapping him in its cold embrace he wondered... for a moment...
What if that embrace were warm and welcoming? What would it be like to be greeted by warmth and cheers instead of scorn and hatred? For someone to smile and shake his hand, just because they wanted to come and say hello?
You’ve always known
Your heart was on its own
He dismissed the notion with the wind, shrugging it off like he would a blanket. Waste of time thinking about it when there was food to find and secrets to steal. It wasn’t as though he’d ever had the chance at that life - not even a chance at the cold affection which his parents shared. They always knew, and so did Draco...
The line of the Blacks and Malfoys would die with him.
So laugh in your loneliness
Child of the wilderness
The moment his foot touched the solid floor of the little kitchen instead of treacherous stair, the blonde began first to jog and then to run from the house and its grounds. He fled, leaving the clinging embrace of the Manor and of dreams he thought he’d buried years ago. He ran, strong young legs carrying him further and further away from his past, his present. Draco was a lone blonde spot on the landscape as he continued to run, liking the feel of it - the burn in his thighs, the rush of sweetly cold air against his body. Despite himself a wild, victorious bark of a laugh broke from his lips, escaping up towards the stars.
Learn to be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone
A wizard called Malfoy was buried many years after the war was finished. He was a worthy scholar, and a famous potion maker from a hated family. But despite this, his funeral was very well attended. Messily black haired and children with boisterous red hair stood crowded around their mothers as they watch the still gangling figure of Ron Weasley bend over the coffin to say one last goodbye. The blonde was still smirking, even in death.
“You know sometime I stop and think about school, Malfoy. Sometimes I stop and wonder what might have happened if we were just a bit - I dunno. Friendlier? But then I stop and remember what a git you were. You always were a smug git. This is the end of the feud, by the way. Us coming to your send-off. So don’t get the wrong idea, ferret features. I didn’t like you. But,” Ron stopped and the adult him looked down at the dead man sadly. Another schoolmate gone. “I’ll always remember the amazing bouncing ferret.”
Learn to be lonely
Life can be lived
Life can be loved
Alone
DdraigCoch Valentine Fic 2007
Song Fic (Child of Darkness)
Disclaimer: The usual. HP belongs to Jo Rowling, and the song was taken from the credits of Phantom of the Opera. Don't know who owns it, but it's not me.
Note: This is the first draft, and has yet to be BETAed or re-read. I appologize if it sucks.
Child of the wilderness
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
As far back as he could remember, the halls of Malfoy Manor had echoed with his footsteps. The vast empty hallways had taken his young footsteps, bounced them around off the cold stone and returned them tenfold. He’d close his eyes sometimes when he was playing alone in those halls, and run headlong from one end to the other, imagining that he was racing other children, that they were playing with him. But when his grey eyes opened again there was never anyone there, and the lie would make their absence worse. His father had watched an approved as his son put away childish games of make believe and sat by himself in the library, playing chess against himself.
Learn to find your way in darkness
Now the echoes only returned the one set of feet clicking determinedly against the stone floors and hating them like all the generations of Malfoys who had walked them. His father had blamed his Black blood for the reckless abandon with which he threw insults and the strength of his feelings. It wasn’t proper for a Malfoy to feel so much, his father said. What did he know? He was dead.
Who will be there for you?
Comfort and care for you?
Learn to be lonely
If he stopped for a moment he knew that he would feel the old stones which now belonged to him reaching out, their magic to his. He didn’t stop, didn’t even acknowledge it. What use were these stones to him now, on the run from both sides of an increasingly brutal war? He had his hands full just staying alive these days, without worrying over some mouldering old pile. The halls were even more desolate than he remembered though; two years without a Master had taken its toll on the manor. Draco tried to convince himself that he was glad, but the ghosts of his pretend friends still dogged his steps. A loving family. A friend to turn to. Someone who would not laugh at him when, at night, he cried and raged. The list of dieing dreams seemed to grow by the year, and the young blonde ignored it. But in the corner of his eyes were always the bodies.
Learn to be your one companion
He kept moving, ignoring the memories that assailed him and the portraits which hailed him. At school he would have stopped and yelled back at the insult to his pride. But there wasn’t anything left for him to defend, at least not to these old relics. At Hogwarts he’d had cronies - not friends, not really. One slip and they’d have had their knives in him before he could mutter ‘ow’. Even Patsy. In Slytherin, as his mother had said to him the day he first boarded the Hogwarts Express, at least you knew who your enemies were. She’d come up close and brushed a tiny kiss along the arch of his cheekbone, and he could remember her perfume even now; the contact was branded in his mind like each of Patsy’s cold kisses, and each pat of his shoulder by a fatherly hand. She came up close, kissed him and whispered in his ear ‘Everyone else’. Walking down a crumbling staircase in the western wing, Draco felt a familiar spark of anger burn a little brighter in his chest with the remembrance.
Never dream that
Out in the world
There are arms to hold you
“Ignorant half-blood midget...” He muttered to the silence, his long legs making short work of the crumbling spiral staircase. The spark burned harder for a moment as he remembered that punch the mud blood had given him years ago. Did she even realize that that was the warmest touch Draco had felt since he was a very small child? He hoped that she didn’t. That punch had burned with the hatred she felt for him. So did Weasley and Harry’s punches. If he ever felt inclined to be honest, and that was rare enough Merlin knew, then... it didn’t matter. Old news. Dead like the stones and the little nest of death eaters which passed for ‘family’. But still, as one of the Manor’s usual draughts whipped by, wrapping him in its cold embrace he wondered... for a moment...
What if that embrace were warm and welcoming? What would it be like to be greeted by warmth and cheers instead of scorn and hatred? For someone to smile and shake his hand, just because they wanted to come and say hello?
You’ve always known
Your heart was on its own
He dismissed the notion with the wind, shrugging it off like he would a blanket. Waste of time thinking about it when there was food to find and secrets to steal. It wasn’t as though he’d ever had the chance at that life - not even a chance at the cold affection which his parents shared. They always knew, and so did Draco...
The line of the Blacks and Malfoys would die with him.
So laugh in your loneliness
Child of the wilderness
The moment his foot touched the solid floor of the little kitchen instead of treacherous stair, the blonde began first to jog and then to run from the house and its grounds. He fled, leaving the clinging embrace of the Manor and of dreams he thought he’d buried years ago. He ran, strong young legs carrying him further and further away from his past, his present. Draco was a lone blonde spot on the landscape as he continued to run, liking the feel of it - the burn in his thighs, the rush of sweetly cold air against his body. Despite himself a wild, victorious bark of a laugh broke from his lips, escaping up towards the stars.
Learn to be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone
A wizard called Malfoy was buried many years after the war was finished. He was a worthy scholar, and a famous potion maker from a hated family. But despite this, his funeral was very well attended. Messily black haired and children with boisterous red hair stood crowded around their mothers as they watch the still gangling figure of Ron Weasley bend over the coffin to say one last goodbye. The blonde was still smirking, even in death.
“You know sometime I stop and think about school, Malfoy. Sometimes I stop and wonder what might have happened if we were just a bit - I dunno. Friendlier? But then I stop and remember what a git you were. You always were a smug git. This is the end of the feud, by the way. Us coming to your send-off. So don’t get the wrong idea, ferret features. I didn’t like you. But,” Ron stopped and the adult him looked down at the dead man sadly. Another schoolmate gone. “I’ll always remember the amazing bouncing ferret.”
Learn to be lonely
Life can be lived
Life can be loved
Alone