A/N:Wow! Look what I found! My first fanfic that I ever wrote...and it's in the P.O.V. of my fave charrie! Lol I'm ridiculously happy over something so insignificant...but...enjoy! :D I left it unaltered so you can see if my writing style has changed much in three years.
~~~
Everyone assumes that I'm evil.
Hell, I don't blame them. After all, I have not proven to them otherwise.
Still, I wish that there was someone who understood what I go through everyday. I wish that there was someone who didn't take one look at me, and automatically assume I was up to something.
It's really not my fault. I didn't choose this. I didn't choose the blonde hair and grey eyes. I didn't choose the scowl that has been forced onto my face. I didn't choose to take the last name Malfoy.
I didn't choose any of this. The lies, the anger, the death…
But I am who I am, nonetheless.
No one has ever asked me why I do things the way I do. Or why I even do them at all. They just assume that Draco Malfoy follows everything his precious father says. If I had a choice, I would run away, and be done with him. That bastard who calls himself my father is no father at all.
He forced me into this. Forced me to take the Mark that is ever present on my forearm. Even as I think, I can feel it burn, and I know that he wants me to come. Should I ignore the bidding?
I know what awaits if I do. First comes the smooth, snakelike talk, as the Dark lord scolds me. Then comes the anger. I can already feel the pain rushing through my limbs, as the Cruciatus Curse rushes through me. But it doesn't matter.
It doesn't hurt like it used to any more. I think they have broken me at last. It used to be that every time he pointed that wand at me, my heart lurched fearfully. But no more.
Let them hurt me. I don't care. I've become what I despise the most. A killer. A monster.
My first mission had been to kill Dumbledore. I had failed at that. For some reason, I couldn't bring myself to kill the old man. I could see his kind eyes, gazing at me sadly. I wanted to punch him in the nose, to scream at him. How could he be so understanding? I had always wished to know that someone cared, but when it finally happened, I rejected it.
I still couldn't bring myself to do it, and finally, Snape had to do it for me. I hate him for that. He killed Dumbledore. Still, part of me is grateful. At least I hadn't had to do it myself. At least Snape was the one with blood on his soul, and not me.
That has changed. I was eventually forced to kill. I can still remember that day, as the little Mudblood boy looked up at me with scared eyes. His parents were already dead, slain by Bellatrix, that maniacal aunt of mine. "Do it now, Draco," she had whispered to me. But I couldn't. Finally, with a blast of "Crucio" to aid me in my ways, I leveled my wand, and mouthed the fatal words.
"Avada Kedavra."
At least it was a painless death. The boy knew what hit him, but he didn't have time to reflect on it. I'm glad. But it was that killing, that murder, that made the Dark Mark an option.
No, not an option. I was forced to take it, just as I was forced to kill. "It's the only way, dear Draco," my father had said. "The Dark Mark can only be taken once the soul has blood upon it. You must kill, to join the Dark lord's forces. You don't want to suffer the pain of not joining him, do you? Trust me. It's better this way."
I'm not so sure it was worth it. I didn't want to do it. It has changed me.
I look in the mirror, and I don't recognize myself. That pale, gaunt face...those haunted eyes...they aren't mine. Who is this? This apparition that I see in the mirror, it's not me.
What happened to the old Draco?
I don't recall ever being asked to join. Nor do I recall actually asking to join. If I had wanted to, I would have. But no, everything is about force with the Dark lord. I didn't have a choice. I still don't have a choice. I don't want this though…I can't face the fear of dying...so I please the Dark lord by completing my missions, against the will of my heart.
Maybe I should just let go. Maybe I should anger the Dark lord. My end would not be swift, nor painless, but at least it would all be over.
But I still can't bring myself to do it.
Potter is lucky. He has his friends around him, while I have nothing. Everyone always thought that I was tight with Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and all the other Slytherins, but no. They were only there to 'check up' on me. Meaning every chance they got, the little buggers ran right back to their parents and blabbed everything they could about me.
I never had a chance.
If only Potter had accepted my offer of friendship, way back when we first met. He may have been able to help me. But I sealed my own fate. I never meant to sound so mean, but I did. I sounded just like my father, as I sneered at Weasley and Granger. And that was the reason why I never had Potter as an ally, but as an enemy.
Someone just use Avada Kedavra on me already.
The latest assignment was the worst. I was sent to bring in an innocent family for 'questioning'. I can still hear their screams, now forever silenced. And for what reason were they tortured and killed? Only because Dolohov, the stupid idiot, claimed he thought they were hiding yet another Mudblood.
It wasn't true, of course, but the Dark lord didn't care. It was just another chance to instill fear into the people.
I wish that this could all be over.
I wish all of this would end. But I know, though it seems like a bad nightmare I can wake up from, that it will never be over.
The world's last hope…my last hope at being free, is gone.
They caught him, not a month ago. That precious Golden Boy, the freakin' Boy-Who-Lived…he was the biggest idiot of them all. While trying to rally those people on his side, he let his guard down. That was his biggest mistake. The whole gathering was captured easily. The Dark lord said later that it was like taking candy from a baby. Of course he would know that…
Anyways, after he had tormented all of the people, the Dark lord had them killed. That tore Potter apart, for his best friends had been part of that group. He tried to break free, to kill Volde-the Dark lord, but it was hopeless. His anger had made him irrational, and I could only watch as the supposed Savior of the Wizarding World fell, struck by a killing curse.
I can still see his wide, staring gaze, so blank, forever silent…
I can't take this anymore. It's all over. There is no one left to challenge the Dark lord. Everyone has given up. Voldemort has won. That's right, I said his name. I said the bloody git's name.
And I don't care.
I wish he would just kill me now. Then it would all be over.
And yet, I'm terrified of dying. I don't want to pass into the void. I've fought too hard to let it all go now.
I'm trapped, with no way out save through that which I fear most. Death.
If only Potter hadn't died…we might still have hope.
But hope has forsaken us.
Whatever happened to the old stories, of Pandora and her box? I could use a little box right now, to release Hope. For that is what we need most, and it is just what we can't get.
There is no more hope in this world.
And I am a prisoner here, a silent prisoner that no one saw, until it was too late.
