Dear Professor Snape,
I mean, we're not really on a last name basis anymore, are we? You weren't just my professor, you were my enemy, my godfather, my killer, my saviour. You were company at dinner, casting awkward stares under the crystal chandelier while I sat in between my parents. You were company at death eater meetings, sat in the same chairs as before, your hand holding mine out of sight from prying eyes.
There are so many versions of you that I don't know which one is you. I don't know if I trust you. Every little piece of me, the poisoned blood in my system, the fragments of glass in my skin, the knot of anxiety in my stomach, every piece of me is saying trust no one. Trust is what got us into this mess. Trust in family. Trust in Hogwarts. Trust in the system.
Yet something is telling me I can. The side of me that isn't powered by rage and whatever mental illness you think I've got. I'm not as grown up as everyone believes I am. This time two years ago, I thought I'd be thinking about NEWTs, or whoever I was arranged to marry, not about whether I'd live or die, or whether the nest time I woke up surrounded by empty bottles, you would be there too.
Either way, I know you'd be ashamed. You knew suicide was the coward's way out, the way only fools and cold hearted killers should go. But that's what I've become. I was putting it off for so long, hoping that one day I'd wake up and it would have all been a bad dream, that I was allowed to see my parents together and happy, that Dumbledore, Crabbe, everyone was alive. Even Potter, which seems crazy now that I've written it down, but I think it's true, I didn't want him to go either. Maybe he wasn't so bad after all.
I wasn't allowed to commit suicide. I'm still not. But now I don't think I can face the alternative.
It doesn't matter what I think, say, or do now. I've only got to go through with one more bought of pain- indescribable, the books said, but the end result will be worth it.
Thank you, regardless of who you are. I don't think I would have even made it back alive without you.
Love, Draco.
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Draco Malfoy and the Alcoholic's Wish
FanfictionThe war itself was terrible. But the aftermath seems even worse now it's gone. Maybe we were all too busy fighting for what we felt as right (or what we were told was right), and we didn't notice we were treading on the dead fingers and toes of our...
