A Very Mad World

A Very Mad World

Disclaimer: I only own the plot.

Author\'s Note: I came up with the idea for this songfic while listening to \"Mad World\" by Gary Jules, on repeat for five straight days; I strongly suggest that, if possible, you listen to the song as it gives you a good idea for the tone of this fic.

Warnings: Possible spoilers for books 1-5 (since I\'m too lazy to figure out if I have spoilers :P), book 6 is disregarded, character death, very depressing.

Forgot to add that this story is not beta\'d. Don\'t think it should be anyways; parts of it aren\'t grammatically correct, but that\'s the way I want them.

-------------------------------------------

Tomorrow is the three-year anniversary of Harry Potter\'s death and here I sit in my chair by the fire, hypnotized by the dancing flames, idly swirling the sherry in my glass, and thinking about the morbid things I always seem to dwell on.

We truly had it all, Harry Potter and I.

We had a safe world, thanks to his defeat of Voldemort just after seventh year.

We had the support and love of others, despite our longheld conviction that we had to hide our relationship because they wouldn\'t approve.

We had two adorable twin boys, identical in every way except personality. One took after me, the other after Harry. It was certainly disconcerting for the first few years to see \'me\' in \'him\'. Of course, I was being absurd; I knew that and I didn\'t let it affect the way I treated Keegan. Andrew and Keegan, our two shining stars.

We had, most importantly, the love of each other. Born through hatred and hardship, blossoming into eternal love. We vowed that we would never leave each other. In our hardest times, efforts to do so seemed to affect us in ways we had never seen before; we would slowly begin to... decay, I suppose, is the best word. The one who was not with the boys, who chose to leave the manor, was always the worst affected, perhaps because they were without a connection, without a reminder, of the one they loved so dearly.

Harry Potter was, and still is, my soul. No one could enjoy life as much as he could and no one could brighten my day with a mischievous grin like he could; a brush of his hand against mine or a slow and filling push inside while murmuring sweet nothings was all it took for me to come alive.

All of it brought down by a simple fall down the stairs.

I was thoroughly investigated, and understandably so. The great Harry Potter, defeater of Voldemort, savior of us all, dead because he fell down a flight of stairs?

The investigation started out as it should have. The Ministry officials came, swarming over the place like ants over a piece of food, picking everything apart. They asked me objective questions: Where were you at the time of his death? I was cooking our dinner. Where were your kids? They were outside flying around our Quidditch pitch. Who found him?

The last question set everything off; it turned the accidental death into a homicide.

Yes, I was the one who found him.

No, I will never forget the sight. Eyes bulging, head bruised, battered and bloody, strangely angled, arms and legs akimbo, all fingernails bloody, some missing, as he tried to stop his fall. No, I will never forget the sight.

Admitting that I was the one to find him changed everything. The officials became nervous and demanded that I give them my wand which had been in the pocket of my slacks the whole time. I handed it over to them without a word, knowing that if called to do so, wandless magic would not be an issue; Harry had taught and trained me in wandless magic before his defeat of Voldemort. The twins crowded closer, emerald eyes wide and frightened; I did my best to tuck them under my arms and hug them to me, their warm hands and arms clasping each of my legs.

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere

Frail and old Mr. Fudge began to quiver with excitement, old prejudices surfacing in his faded blue eyes. He said it sure is convenient that you were the first to find our Harry and I wanted to scream that he isn\'t your Harry, he is mine, mine, mine, mine but I kept it in and stood blankly in front of him, my head down, silver eyes focusing on Andrew and Keegan. He said it sure is odd that you\'re so calm and collected in the face of such tragedy that anyone else would be hysterical at the loss of their loved one and he said it with a sneer and so I thought perhaps he was getting absentminded in his old age, that he had forgotten I am a Malfoy and I keep my emotions inside when I am around people I don\'t trust and there is no difference between screaming your loss to the heavens on the outside and doing the same on the inside.

A malicious glint appeared in his gaze when next I looked up, or should I say down, at him. He wasn\'t focused on me, however, instead he stared avidly at the twins, who ducked behind my legs. He ordered the officials to take the twins from me. To their credit they hesitated for a few seconds before complying, successfully separating me from Andrew and Keegan despite my futile struggles and yells and punches and their screams and crying and wailing as they dived under outstretched arms, crawled between legs and bit and scratched their opponents.

I downed the last half of sherry in my glass and refilled it before chucking the empty bottle into the fire, watching in fascination as the flames grew higher, swallowed up the glass and remaining swill. A full bottle of sherry. Gone in five minutes. I hadn\'t even been aware that I was drinking it while I sat lost in thoughts.

Obviously tired, Fudge collapsed in a nearby chair. Our chair.

I was panting from my fighting, shaking from Fudge\'s directions and behavior, ready to use the wandless magic I knew in an impulsive Avada Kedavra.

At this point I realized I was getting too worked up. I had to maintain my outer dignity, however much I was suffering inside. If Fudge spotted a weakness, he would prey upon it.

\"Interrogate the kids.\"

Words that willl forever resonate in my mind. Hearing the protests from the officials, Mr. Weasley immediately speaking up about how unethical this all was, watching as one by one they all backed down under Fudge\'s manipulations, blackmails and glares. The \'interrogation\' began.

I had done nothing wrong. At the time of his death, I was in the kitchen with the house elves, making our lunch of meatloaf and mashed potato\'s, his favorite. I could hear the taunts and insults between my twins through the open windows; they were just as competitive at flying as Harry and I. The thought still brings a smile to my face.

That was when my world shattered.

\"Whoa- AHH!\" Thump, thump, clud, CRACK.

Panic gripped me, rendering my legs, my body, motionless. The taunts of my children filtered in through a fog; You\'re too slow, I caught the snitch again! Oh yeah, well, you\'re a prick! At least I\'m not too slow, slow, slow, slow, slow.

A strangled cry emerged from my throat as I was finally galvanized into action, running out to the hallway, collapsing by the side of my fallen lover, sobs escaping as I gently stroked his hair, Harry, wake up, darling, come on Harry, wake up, you\'re all right, I know you are, please get up, please, please, you can\'t do this to me, we promised we would never leave each other, we\'re together always, that\'s what we promised, you can\'t do this to me, please no, please, please, don\'t leave, I\'ll do anything, wake up, please, darling, you\'re all right, please get up, please, please...

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, drowning in the emotions that seem to get stronger with every year, before I finally stand and throw my empty sherry glass into the fire, pacing agitatedly in front of it. Walk it off, walk it off, it\'s been almost three years, you should be over it, of course I\'m not over it, we were soulmates, loved dearly by each other, how can I give that up, this is what I need, what I survive on.

House elves pulled me away from his body an indeterminate amount of time later, although judging by his cool temperature, it had been an hour or two. The twins were hovering nearby, eyes wide, shock and confusion evident. They had never seen either of us cry, either of us hysterical, so I stood up and walked over to them, crouching down and pulling them into a massive hug. Arms and grubby hands immediately clutched at me and I murmured reassurances. I had gotten the worst of my grief out; I needed to be there for our kids now, who most likely had no idea what had just happened or why I had acted so.

The Ministry officials, as well as the press, had arrived soon after.

\"DADDY, DADDY, PLEASE, WHAT ARE THEY DOING, WHERE IS DADDY GOING, WILL HE COME BACK? DADDY, PLEASE, WHY ARE THEY HURTING ME, DADDY, HELP ME, WHERE IS DADDY GOING, WHAT ARE THEY DOING, DADDY, HELP ME, DADDY DIDN\'T DO ANYTHING, DADDY, PLEASE HELP ME, DADDY PLEASE, WHERE IS DADDY GOING, WILL HE COME BACK? DADDY, HELP ME, PLEASE, MAKE THEM STOP HURTING ME.

The plea\'s from earlier blended with the ones I heard from the interrogation, blended into one big mass of my children asking for me, wanting me.

I was ready to confess everything. That I did it. I pushed my love down the stairs, I did it intentionally, I\'ll say anything to have my children, I don\'t want them hurt, they\'re the only thing I have left of him, I did it, I did it, stop hurting my children, I didn\'t do it, stop it, stop it, please, no, it\'s too much, I want my Harry back, I want my twins, please stop, please, please, you\'re all right, I know you are, you wouldn\'t leave me, I love you, I love the both of you, please, I did it, I pushed him, it\'s my fault, mine, too slow, you\'re too slow, too slow, you\'ll always lose, always not good enough, I love you, we\'ll be together forever, right? Of course, my love, we\'ll always be together, we\'re soulmates, made for each other, please don\'t leave me, wake up Harry, wake up, it\'s okay kids, Daddy\'s just sleeping, it\'ll be okay, stop hurting them, they\'re innocent, I did it, no, stop, stop, stop, stop, anything, say, stop, stop, together, always, love you, stop, stop...

\"Daddy?\"

Tentative tiptoe\'s announce the arrival of my twins. I jerk my head up, disoriented for a moment. How did I end up on the floor? I shove a hand through my hair and stand up with great effort, dizziness making me sway a bit.

\"Daddy, are you all right? Should I get a house elf?\" Andrew speaks up, always the courageous one, always the one to take up after Harry. Keegan stands behind his brother, moving as if to run out and get one before I can answer the question.

\"No, it\'s okay boys.\" My voice is a little raspy, a little quiet, but it effectively stops Keegan from getting an elf. \"What are you doing here? Remember our rules? You aren\'t allowed to come into Daddy\'s office because when he\'s in there he\'s busy. You two know better.\"

They hang their heads a little, identical lips puckering into identical pouts, identical emerald eyes gazing up at me with identical sorry expressions. \"We know Daddy, but we heard you yelling and we were curious cause you only ever do that once a year, so we came up and you were on the ground and you were crying and we tried to get your attention but you screamed at us to leave you alone and that you wanted to cry but you\'re our Daddy and we knew that you were just upset cause whenever we cry we say things we don\'t mean so we just kept trying and then you finally answered.\" That was Keegan, ever the one to analyze everything, to expound on what he could say in a simple sentence.

\"I\'m sorry, guys.\" I take a tentative step, testing to see if I\'m still dizzy, before walking more confidently over to them and ruffling their mops of hair. So like Harry\'s. I instinctively run my hands through the silken strands, delighting in the messy way they fall after I do so. So like Harry\'s. \"I didn\'t mean to scare you, but you know this time of year is hard for me ever since... ever since...\"

\"Daddy died.\" Andrew pipes up solemnly. Keegan nods, minutely moving closer to his twin.

\"Yes.\" I reply simply, ushering them out the door and locking it behind me.

Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow

I raise the pillow to my nose and close my eyes, the few remaining tendrils of his scent wafting up. Satisfied, I replace it inside the armoire and shut the doors, shuffling over to our bed and crawling between the sheets. In the first year and a half, I slept with that pillow, barely restraining myself from carrying it around during the day, so I pride myself in my ability to get through a night without it. Panic begins to claw its way up, sweat begins to dot my forehead and upper lip. No, I\'m not losing him, I\'m not. He is still with me, in my heart, in the pillow, in a million other ways, I am not losing him. The mantra repeats and I wonder if perhaps I am not quite as independent from his memory as I think I am. Without the pillow in place next to me, I think the mantra over and over in my mind. One compulsive behavior for the other. Grimacing, I turn my back to Harry\'s spot and curl into a little ball, slowly falling asleep.

A long, wet stroke between my shoulders, slightly nasty breath rustling the hairs on my neck, a gentle kiss on my earlobe. \"Morning love.\" his deep voice rumbles from his chest to my back as he presses himself against me, his morning wood gently thrusting into my arse.

I moan, instinctively pushing back, my eyes opening blearily. \"What time is it?\" I mumble.

He bites my shoulder, drawing a hiss of excitement from me as I continue to wake up. \"7:30.\" He replies huskily before licking and nibbling on my neck, kissing my ear and nuzzling against my hair.

\"Why the hell are you getting me up so early?\" I mutter, focusing on the feelings he never fails to provoke in me. A harsh groan escapes when he hits my prostate, stars exploding in my vision.

\"I couldn\'t help myself,\" he whispers into my ear, causing me to giggle and give a firm thrust back. He gasps and it\'s music to my ears.

He rolls me onto my stomach for a better angle and better thrusting power, of which I have no complaints with in any position. Soon our room fills with a crescendoing mixture of panting, groaning and muttered words.

Fuck yeah, oh, take it, take it, oh yes, yes, I love it, oh, harder, please, oh god, fuck, please, oh, OH, take it, harder, oh yes, yes, fuck yeah, that\'s the way I like it, oh, Harder, YES, FUCK, Harder Harry please, TAKE IT BITCH, Oh godohgodohgod, so fucking good, yes, oh, OH, Oh FUCK, FUCK, HERE I-- GOD YES.

I am smothered into the mattress by his deliciously heavy weight. Minutes tick by while we lay there motionless, basking in the afterglow, in the feeling of our sweat evaporating and our breath evening out.

\"Shhhhhh, quiet Kee\'an.\"

\"Shhhhh, quiet An\'rew, we\'re s\'posta scare daddy\'s.\"

I can feel his chest shaking with silent laughter as he pulls out and lays next to me, wrapping me in his arms. I have to bury my face in the pillow before I give ourselves away. Counting the seconds until I feel the mattress bounce, I hear Andrew whispering instructions to Keegan. After much arguing from the twins and continued laughter from Harry and I, silence descends once more.

All is right in the world with my love and our twins.

Suddenly I hear a choking sound beside me and my Harry begins to kick and jerk around, his hands scratching at his neck, eyes bulging out. My own eyes widening, I lurch out of our bed in horror, helplessly watching my love die; deep cuts spill blood from his head, bruises appear on his face and I see a few bloody fingernails flying through the air. The bed transforms into stairs and our twins turn into demons on broomsticks, their leering gazes stabbing me, accusing me, abusing me, you\'re too slow, always too slow, it\'s your fault, your fault, he loved you and you killed him, too slow, slow, fault, your fault and suddenly I\'m twisting around in a vortex of insults and accusations, my beloved\'s face glaring hatred\'s daggers at me, blaming, accusing, insulting, hating, I hate you, I hate you, you killed me, we were together, forever, eternal love, hatred, killed me, fault yours, always, no more, hatred, hatred, hatred, I hate you,

\"NO!\" I yell, startling myself awake. Panting, I throw the covers off and run to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. Bloodshot eyes, tousled hair, perspiration clinging to my skin. It was all just a dream. Just a dream, nothing more.

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I\'m dying
Are the best I\'ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It\'s a very, very mad world, mad world

Today is the third anniversary of Harry Potter\'s death.

If I had my way, I would be locked in our room. Alone to grieve, alone to remember.

Unfortunately, today also happens to be the twins\' birthday. Fake smiles go a long way on Harry Potter\'s death anniversary. Of course, I try to be happy for Andrew and Keegan; they are my children after all, the only reminder I have of my love. Last year I actually managed to hide my guilt, my anger and my sadness. I was actually happy for my twins.

They turn six today and they are still innocent. They see beyond the worlds complexities, beyond its ironies.

I struggle to see past the irony of a flight of stairs destroying the Boy-Who-Lived.

\"Daddy?\"

I blink out of my thoughts, focusing on the twins in front of me. How they sneak up without me knowing is unfathomable. \"Yes munchkins?\"

\"You don\'t hate us \'cause it\'s our birthday, do you?\" Keegan is the one who speaks, surprising me with a direct question.

I frown, sitting up so that I can ruffle their hair as I have many times before. \"Of course not, boys, why would you think that?\"

\"Because you\'re always really quiet and you don\'t play with us or anything, but if it\'s not our birthday, you\'re really loud and annoying and you always play with us.\" Andrew replies.

I chuckle and lift them up onto my lap with one arm and one leg for each. \"No, I don\'t hate you because it\'s your birthday. In fact, I could never hate you guys.\" Smirking, I give them kisses on their cheeks, for which they immediately stick their tongue out and make disgusted faces. Growing somber again, I settle back against the chair, the boys taking the opportunity to nestle up to me. \"I\'m quiet on your birthday because I lost your Daddy a couple years ago on this day. Do you remember?\" Please remember, please, I don\'t want to lose him, please.

\"Kinda,\" Keegan\'s quavering voice reaches me. \"He looked like us, right?

Thank god, there\'s a little bit left, thank you, thank you. \"Yep,\" I casually say, hoping that I don\'t lose control over my roiling emotions. \"He looks... looked, exactly like you munchkins.\"

\"Oh.\"

We sit in silence as I search for words to say, words to bring his memory back to them. If they don\'t remember him, I\'ve lost Harry Potter in yet another way. A precious, precious way. I don\'t want to lose Potter, oh no, no, definitely not.

Shaking my head, I gently push them off my lap. \"Why don\'t we go fly around for a bit, guys?\" Shouts of enthusiasm greet my offer and I smile gently. Kids will be kids.

Children waiting for the day they feel good
Happy Birthday, Happy Birthday
Made to feel the way that every child should
Sit and listen, sit and listen

Harry Potter always did have a good intuition. He relied on that the most. Luck and a good gut feeling.

I give the twins into the care of the house elves and apparate to the gate of Hogwarts.

Today is the third anniversary of Harry Potter\'s death.

I think back to his strange fear of dementor\'s as I walk up the path to the school.

I had always made fun of him for it. The great Harry Potter, afraid of dementor\'s? I\'d sneer.

It wasn\'t until the door of my cell at Azkaban closed in my face that I realized just how logical his fear was. Fudge had ordered a life term at the prison for murdering my love. The officials who had accompanied him, who had \'interrogated\' my sons, were reluctant, but orders were orders and they were being blackmailed. Eventually Mr. Weasley outed Minister Fudge for what he truly was, bared the blackmails, the manipulations, and rectified, or tried to, the horrible treatment of my twins and I.

I kick a pebble off the path.

A month in Azkaban is too long. You drown in your fears, your memories. There is no lifeline for you to grab, no raft you can float on to keep your head above the water. It was a constant thing, seeing my beloved\'s broken body at the foot of the stairwell. It was a constant thing, seeing my innocent twins tortured for information they didn\'t have. It was a constant thing, hearing a niggling voice in the back of my head that accused me of killing Harry. It was a constant thing, hearing a niggling voice in the back of my head that said I was too slow, that it was my fault.

I giggle. My fault, my fault, too slow am I. Ringing and singing in my head.

The current students of Hogwarts are in class since the halls are empty, the rooms shut. I pause at an intersection of two hallways, one leading lower, to the dungeons, and the other leading higher, to Dumbledore\'s office. Nervously licking my lips, I stand, looking in both directions. I have a yearly meeting with Dumbledore to go to, at precisely three o\'clock, but he is getting old and forgetful and I\'m sure that I can get away with passing through my old haunts first.

I stop just outside the door to Professor Snape\'s classroom. My heart speeds up, a staccato drumbeat against my ribs, my palms sweating. I wipe them against my slacks and place my hand on the doorknob.

Slowly I open the door and step in, plastering myself to the wall; my foot nudges the door closed.

Click.

No one looks up.

Clammy palms wipe themselves against my slacks again and I make my way over to Professor Snape\'s desk.

\"Hello, Mr. Malfoy. What gives me the inordinate pleasure of seeing your face this afternoon?\" Liquid tones embrace me before I can speak a word. My mouth snaps shut.

I don\'t know what to say; I don\'t know why I\'m here.

Glancing behind, I see curious expressions directed at me. No one shouts out in horror, no one accuses me of killing Harry. They simply sit at their desks. I think perhaps they don\'t know me, a surprise.

\"I- hello.\" I stammer to Proffessor Snape. No other words come to mind.

\"What an intelligent reply, Mr. Malfoy. Perhaps those years of schooling were not a waste after all.\" He has yet to look up at me.

I find myself in Dumbledore\'s office with no recollection as to how I got there. I am thoroughly winded, however, so perhaps I ran. This leaves me to wonder how, or if, I said goodbye to Professor Snape.

\"Would you like a lemon drop, Draco?\" Dumbledore\'s feeble voice inquires.

I shake my head, mutely sitting on this rickety chair.

\"Ah well. I don\'t know where I put them anyways.\" He replies. They sit on his desk in front of him, candied lemon hills peeking over the side of the bowl. \"How are you doing?\"

Your fault, I hate you, together forever, please don\'t leave me, where is Daddy going, I love you, too slow, always slow, wake up, you\'re all right, I love you, make them stop hurting me Daddy, together forever, your fault, hatred, wake up, you promised, please, no, please, I love you so much, why, why did you leave me, please, make them stop hurting me, your fault, together, where is Daddy going, too slow, I love you, always slow, your fault, your fault, I hate you, I hate you,

\"Fine.\" I mutter curtly, fingers gripping the arms of the chair. I am afraid I\'ll break it.

Dumbledore hums and nods his head, oblivious to my signs of distress. \"And your twins?\"

I blink, eyes widening and I jump to my feet.

Today is the third anniversary of Harry Potter\'s death.

I race out of the room, through the halls, through the gate and immediately apparate to the Manor.

Went to school and I was very nervous
No one knew me, no one knew me
Hello teacher tell me what\'s my lesson
Look right through me, look right through me

\"Do you know what day it is?\" I ask the twins. We are walking up to the bathroom, our arms swinging as we hold hands and skip.

\"Our birthday?\" Andrew says.

\"Nope,\" I giggle. He always did take after Harry.

\"The day Daddy died?\" Keegan answers quietly.

\"Yes, good job, Keegan,\" I smile down at him, letting go of their hands and opening the bathroom door. He always did take after me. \"Today is the third anniversary of Harry Potter\'s death.\" I draw some bath water, making sure it\'s hot enough. I take off my shoes and socks before shucking off my shirt and slacks.

The twins, smart little boys they are, follow suit.

Grabbing the razor from the counter, I step into the tub, motioning for the boys to do so as well.

\"Daddy, this water\'s hot.\" Andrew complains and Keegan\'s frown lets me know he agree\'s.

\"I know and Daddy is really sorry.\" I slowly sink into the water, hissing in pain. \"You trust Daddy though, right? And you want to see your other Daddy again, right?\"

They nod and move to sit on my lap.

\"Okay, good. Now this is going to hurt a little bit, but I promise it\'ll get better.\"

Your fault, too slow, together forever, where is Daddy going, hate you, hate you, please wake up, don\'t leave me, is Daddy coming back, you promised, you\'re all right, make them stop hurting me, please, please, stop, they\'re innocent, hate you, hate you, how could you do this, why, ow Daddy, your fault, too slow, third anniversary, you\'re all right, I\'m cold Daddy, please wake up, don\'t leave me, you promised, stop, please, please, stop, you\'re okay, make them stop hurting me, angelic faces, so peaceful, third anniversary, love you, forever, is Daddy coming back, please, please, you\'re all right, you promised, you would never leave, I love you, together forever, finally.

And I find it kinda funny
I find it kinda sad
The dreams in which I\'m dying
Are the best I\'ve ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It\'s a very, very mad world, mad world
Enlarge your world
Mad world