The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most

*A/N: Warning: This is not fluffy like my other fics. In fact, this is quite dark and maybe even a little depressing. I hope you enjoy anyway!*

Disclaimer: ‘Tis not mine, I swear!

The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself,
and covered with a perfect shell,
such a charming beautiful exterior.

He had always been that way.

Aloof.

Uncaring.

Unfeeling.

It was as if someone had cast a protective charm over him. But instead of deflecting hexes, it deflected emotions.

His face was a mask.

Pale.

Unmarred.

Beautiful.

But that’s all it was.

A mask.

A mask that he had uncovered when he had clawed down into the dirt of his soul, desperate for a hiding place.

This is one time
that you can't fake it hard enough to please everyone or anyone at all.
And the grave that you refuse to leave
the refuge that you've built to flee
the places you have come to fear the most.

“Did you hear me, Draco? I said I love you!” Ginny Weasley sobbed.

“I heard you.”

“Then why won’t you respond?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Something! Anything!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say to you.”

“God damn it, Draco! I’m sick and tired of this bullshit! You can’t just go through life faking no emotion! I know that somewhere inside you is a passionate person, I’ve seen it in your eyes. But you always beat it back down. You’ve built walls around yourself, and you’re the only one who can bring them down again. When the walls come down, I’ll be there.”

Breathing hard, Ginny turned around and walked back to the castle.

And for once in his life, Draco let himself feel freely.

Regret.

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself,
and hidden in the public eye.
Such a stellar monument to loneliness.
Laced with brilliant smiles and shining eyes
and perfect makeup but you're barely scraping by.


“Draco,” Lucius Malfoy called from his study.

“Yes, Father?”

“Come in here, boy.”

Draco opened the large oak doors of his father’s private study, walking in carefully.

“Come closer, boy.” Lucius beckoned from behind his desk.

Draco took a few tentative steps forward.

“Yes, sir?”

“What is this I hear,” Lucius started, steepling his fingers underneath his chin, “about you and the Weasley girl?”

“She was following me, Father.”

Slap.

“Don’t lie to me, boy!” Lucius snarled, “Crabbe has told me that he has seen you with that girl, on more than one occasion, doing things that sicken me to hear about.”

“I’m sorry, Father.” Draco intoned, his face impassive.

“Do you love her?” Lucius asked, an amused glint in his eye.

“No.”

Slap.

“I told you not to lie to me. Do you love her?”

“N-no.”

Slap.

“Boy, I am giving you one last chance to tell me the truth, or you will be sorry. Now, do you love her?”

“Yes.”

“Crucio.”

Draco dropped to the floor, writhing in pain, never uttering a sound. But once again, he felt.

Pure hatred.

“Now, boy,” Lucius drawled after muttering the counter spell, “you mark my words, and mark them well. Love is weakness. Hope is weakness. Emotions are weakness. You would do well to remember that.”

“Fuck you, Father.”

“What was that, boy?”

“I said, fuck you, Father.”

And the walls came tumbling down.

~*~

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