Quadrophenia

"Inside, outside. Leave me alone!

Inside, outside. No where is home!

Inside, outside. Where have I been?

Out of my brain on the 5:15



Out of my brain on the train!"





His feet dragged him in the correct direction. His head was several paces previous to which, as if he were floating behind his own body, following like some sort of happy little puppy.

He smiled to himself, another good high. One of these days he\'d get a bad hit, and he\'d fall into the place he was trying to avoid so desperatley, the only reason he\'d turned to these quick escapes in the first place. But he didn\'t want to think about that, not now, he was far too gone in his world of rose tinted glasses and hearing sweet nothings to think about such trivial problems.



This however was a new one.

Perhaps he had taken too much? No, he pushed away the thought, he knew the measure was fine, he was sure it was the same as always.



That be as it may, it did not take away the fact that he was hearing things, sweet nothings? No. He had never hallucinated before. He wanted to panic, but he was too happy to, as quickly as the thought came he shrugged it off, closing his eyes and letting himself drift down the corridoor.



"Draco Malfoy! You ignore me once more and so help you I\'ll wipe that smirk off your face in an instant!" the voice screamed, seemingly in his direction.



\'That wasn\'t very sweet.\' he thought, he debated turning to see if anyone was there but common sense told him there wouldn\'t be, everyone was in their carriages, eating the last of their snacks, finishing off their magazines and putting on their robes, not parading the corridoor screaming his name. He shook his head and walked on.



"MALFOY" the voice was closer now. Behind him. Touching him.



"Voices can\'t touch you stupid git" he told himself.



"Malfoy I dont know what you\'re rambling about but I\'d expect that it\'s a side effect from that substance I just seen you stick up your left nostril!"



He turned and there she was, hands on hips, brown curly hair sticking out wildly at the sides and top, red and gold prefect badge glinting in the September sun, exasperated expression on the face that was looking upwards, her eyes glaring at him.



"Granger, I -er--"



"Save it Malfoy, I don\'t want to know. I don\'t want to hear excuses. I should turn you in right now, you\'d certainley have your prefect duty removed, you\'d be taken off the quidditch team and you would most definatley be wiped right off the board for Head Boy nominees for next year, that is ofcourse if they don\'t just decide to expell you on the spot and send you back to London with the train!" she spat at him, angered that someone who was so clever, her only academic match in this entire school was being so stupid.



She was angered further by the thought that he could have been doing this for years, which meant that he could quite easily be far superior in intelligence than herself if he didnt have this ridiculous, brain eating habit.



But what angered her the most, what was really making her blood boil to the extent that if possible it would curdle was the fact that even though she was practically screaming at him he was just stood there, staring down at her, that stupidly enchanting smirk plastered on his face, seemingly not caring about anything she was saying.



She was talking to him and from what he could gather she wasn\'t happy. Expell? Expelled? Had she mentioned expulsion? She wasn\'t thinking about--no, she wouldn\'t dare!



"Granger I forbid you to tell anyone about this"



"Oh and what makes you think I\'m going to listen to that. If the teachers found out that I knew, that I had kept this from them-- God only knows what the consequences could be!"



He thought about it.

She was right.



The fear slowly crept over him. If he was expelled he wouldn\'t be able to carry out the task the Dark Lord had given him, which would mean certain death for him but even more worryingly his mother, he knew she\'d been to see his godfather and asked him to make the unbreakable vow to her, to look after and help him with his duty.

If Draco was expelled he would fail, Snape would fail. Voldemort would know this.

He would know about his mothers betrayal of his request to her, that she let her son grow up, to pull her kind embrace from him and to let him take this upon himself and -for the most part- himself alone. Which would mean certain death for her.



He began to fidget with his fingers.



He then ran a hand through his hair and started biting at his thumb, a habit he thought he had rid himself of four years ago.



He could die.

He didn\'t care about himself enough to let himself live.

His last hope had been snatched away from him nothing more than eighteen hours ago. All he had left was this task. This callous, venemous, completley ridiculous task.

He however, could not let his mother suffer for his mistakes.



She was still talking to him.

He\'d completley blocked her out.

His thoughts were quickly forgotton and he was trying to hold himself back from laughing at how squeaky Granger sounded to him at the present moment.



"Look Malfoy. I won\'t say anything this time. But if I ever catch you-- no, infact if i ever even hear anything about you taking anything ever again I will go straight to Professor Dumbledore." She turned to walk away but stopped, looking him twice up and down.





"Oh for God\'s sake try to stand still, otherwise someone will notice" And with that piece of, to him, muffled advice she walked off down the corridoor and into the compartment she\'d came from.



************



The feast had passed in a dreamy haze and the headmasters speech had been nothing but a blur of words and warnings, through all of which Draco sat slumped in his chair staring into space, not even applauding when his head of house, Professor Snape had been appointed as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

And now he found himself walking towards the slytherin common room, his high wearing off, desperate to make an escape to the dormitory before the others could get there to have a much needed smoke.



\'Nothing illegal\' he told himself, his forehead sweating slightly.



Quickly walking past his classmates he found himself in little to no time at all sitting on his bed scrabbling through his trunk for his sacred little silver box---



That was until he felt his left arm sear with pain, the outline burning into him, the inside seemingly pulsating.

It lasted for little longer than ten seconds, but it was enough.



In that short time he had promptly jumped from his bed in shock, restrained a scream and was now slowly breathing through his teeth as the feeling of boiling oil being rubbed into his skin wore off, sighing in relief when the whole area suddenly washed over in an icy coolness.

He shakily searched through his trunk, finding a small pouch of floo powder.



He had never felt the mark burn before and his fear was returning to him, this time tenth fold, instantly pushing any thoughts of injecting himself out of his system.



He ran to the small fire that was burning in the cornor of the dorm, he grabbed some of the floo powder and chucked it into the grate watching the flames turn a bright shade of green.



"Malfoy Manor Second Study" he spoke clearly, trying to keep his voice from shaking as he placed his head into the coals.



He opened his eyes to see the study before him, his knees still firmly on his dormitory floor, his head most definatley within his own home. He looked to his right to see his fa---Lucius - this man was no father to him- staring down, looking him in the eye, looking rather pleased.



"I say Draco. Very prompt indeed. How was your train journey?" he sneered at him.



"Fine thankyou" he spoke as politley as possible, yet through gritted teeth.



Lucius smiled falsely, turned, and left the room, slamming the grand oak door as he did.



The chair infront of him slowly turned round, the rasping breath becoming more audible now, more prominent.

He felt an icy chill run down his spine, cliche he knew but all the same, it was happening. The barely half man before him was turning his wand inbetween his long, pale fingers, a simple act for most, but for Draco it caused him so much fear he was struggling to hold back tears.



\'Pull yourself together\' He told himself silently.



The figure raised his head, his features pale and snakelike and as Draco looked into the red tinged eyes of Lord Voldemort he put his best efforts into place to stop himself jumping up, turning away and running as fast and far away as he could.

**************





"Draco. I see you have accepted the task at hand, although of course, you had little choice in the matter" he hissed at him, moving his wand between his fingers.

"I trust you understand what this is to entail?"



"Yes my Lord, I am to kill Albus Dumbledore" he spoke quietly, trying to keep his voice even.



"And you think that you will be able to successfully accomplish this?" he sneered, his eyes sharpening into a glare.



"I-- Yes my Lord, I do believe that in time I will be able to---"



"That, Mr Malfoy, was a rhetorical question. You are but a boy of sixteen years of age. You are not capable of killing Albus Dumbledore alone, you are simply a pawn in my game, do you understand?"



He knew this was the truth, but he did not want to hear it. He wanted to have a part of him, even if it was the lying part, believe that he was the chosen one. He felt his anger well up into his chest.



"Then why should I agree to such a request if you don\'t even believe I can do it?" he snapped back, instantly regretting it when he saw Voldemort\'s eyes flash dangerously at him.



The response he gained was something quite different to what he had expected.



"You are lucky Draco that today I am feeling amicable, as for most, including death eaters far more loyal and trust worthy than yourself a disregard of my power such as the one you have just displayed would bring torture so immense that you would be literally begging me for death. However, as my current mood is good I will give you an answer to your question." he half shouted dangerously as he slid back into his chair, looking Draco over.



"You may have inherited your fathers looks, but not his cowardice. For this I have changed my request."



Changed his request? Draco began to panic, what more could he possibly want him to do?

Wasn\'t murdering, or at least aiding in the murder, of his headmaster enough?



He may act like the tough guy, but inside...inside he was screaming.



"I understand that you have shown loyalty to me, even though you are not a qualified wizard and have much to learn you have seemingly embraced the task at hand. However, I cannot push this upon you, if you fail it will cost me far too much. Which is why all I ask of you is to fix the vanishing cabinet in the room of requirement. If you are successful you have little to fear, however, do take into account Draco that to fail in this task will as I am sure you are well aware put you in mortal peril." he leered at the teenager, inwardly cackling at the predicament he had just placed this boy in.



Lucius Malfoy would pay for his misendevours, and if he was too idiotic to see that the way in which he was going to hurt him was through his only son then so be it.



Simply assassinating Dumbledore would not do, it was too simple, he could quickly cast the killing curse upon the headmaster and obliviate himself to forget.

This however would cause him weeks, months even of torment, knowing that what he was doing was the key resource in murdering the headmaster he had undoubtedly grown close to over the past five years.



He knew the boy was all talk.

The tough guy at school, the one not to be crossed.



He smirked, keeping his laughter in. He was nothing more than a hypocrite.

He was petrified. He could sense it.

And if the torture that this boys mind would cause him over the upcoming weeks was not enough to set death upon him. Well, he smirked to himself, the killing curse surely would be.



He looked up once again to face the Dark Lord whose eyes were in a state only to be decribed as past tortourous.



This was not something he was doing \'because he was feeling amicable\'. This was something far more sinister, Draco knew it... and it frightened him.



"Now leave. Leave before I change my mind and punish you for your insolance"



"Yes my Lord." he breathed as he pulled his head from the cool green flames.

***********************



He sat down on his bed.

Rejected by Voldemort. He half laughed at himself, knowing that it was probably a first.



He knew what Voldemort wanted to happen. He was never going to be able to fix that cabinet, they were tempermental when brand new, never mind when fixed by a sixteen year old boy. And even, if on the off chance he did manage to fix the cabinet and it worked, he would know that it was him who had talked to the headmaster, carried out his orders, even somewhat made friends with him, that it was him who would have hundreds of opportunities to tell Dumbledore he was in great risk, that he was to be murdered, but he would not tell him.

It was himself, Draco Malfoy, who would plot and be the main source of Albus Dumbledores death - one of the only men that had ever shown care and understanding, and most importantly a different way to live to him.



\'This is all his fault.\' he thought as he ground his fist into the cold stone wall.

He picked up his box, the box that would take everything away, release him of this pain.



He wiped the blood from his knuckes, smearing it into his pale skin, smiling serenly at the crimson contrast.



"I, Draco Malfoy" he started, his voice shaking slightly as he raised the bottle of vodka to his lips...



"Am a failure. I will never become what I wish to be. And I will never in turn be trusted to become a proper Death Eater. I will be a murderer at the age of sixteen."



He held two black pills and one white one.

He brought them upwards, placing them onto his tongue.



He briefly thought of what Granger had told him earlier.



A pang of guilt at the possibility of him causing his mothers death.



Nothing for himself.



He raised the bottle and drunk deeply from it, holding back his urge to retch as the clear, revolting liquid burned its way down his throat taking his much needed release with it.

He stopped when he felt he could drink for no longer, the vomit rising in his throat.

He lifted a cigarette from his small case and lit it, inhaling deeply, feeling his eyes cloud over from the tobacco rush he closed them. Breathing the smoke out through his nose he opened his eyes and croakily spoke once more.



"I, Draco-- fucking --Malfoy" He took another draw from the cigarette.



"Officially have nothing to live for."



He paused, quickly thinking before his self induced state took him into oblivion.



He thought back to how enticed his friends had been in the carriage.

How everyone had watched him walk from the train to Hogwarts.



He briefly recalled how there had very nearly been a physical fight between three girls, and worryingly for him one boy, about who could sit near him at the Slytherin table.



He mumbled to himself, slightly smirking

"Well. Except for my seeming Slytherin status"



He laughed as he said it, he knew it sounded ridiculous but it was true. And this year, he decided, he may as well milk it.



\'What else is there in my life?\' he thought to himself, almost as if he was talking to another within his own head, awaiting reply from his own voice.



"Nothing" he slurred as he let his head fall backwards against his bed stead, dizzy from intoxication. Nauseus from fear.



Yet excited with thoughts he knew his sober mind would never alow him to even dream of....

Her



*****************

A/N: reviews please? :)

In a previous review i was told to steer clear of stereotypes - that i am working on but its hard when your writing not to let yourself slip into it, so i hope ive managed that this time?

And i was told also that there was alot of teenage angstyness. Yes, i am aware of that, it is on purpose, however he will lighten up and the story will become more dark, but far sexier in time lol.