Life is Beautiful

SongLife is Beautiful by Sixx:A.M.

Lyrics

You can't quit until you try
You can't live until you die
You can't learn to tell the truth
Until you learn to lie

You can't breathe until you choke
You gotta laugh when you're the joke
There's nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

I know some things that you don't
I've done things that you won't
There's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home

I was waiting for my hearse
What came next was so much worse
It took a funeral to make me feel alive

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

Alive...
Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

Just open your eyes
Just open your eyes
And see that life is beautiful.
Will you swear on your life,
That no one will cry at my funeral?

*****

Author's note--I was driving home late last night (this seems to be a theme with me, doesn't it? See my Author's Note in my other songfic "How to Save a Life"...I drive home late at night a lot) and I heard this song on the radio. I LOVE this song, and for whatever reason, it finally clicked into a Harry/Draco context. I wrote this last night, and sadly, the jacked internet wouldn't cooperate with my laptop, so I couldn't post this when I wanted, but here it is now.

WARNING Angst, sadness, character death (not H/D and not described), DH-compliant (NO EPILOGUE), mention of suicide, ridiculously long AN at the end

Pairings Harry/Draco (at the end), Harry/Ginny (more implied than anything, though not after this!), Ron/Hermione

Ironically, it talks about suicide. I'd like to make a quick note that I am not a counselor or in any way, a trained professional. This is merely my interpretation of the song, and if you are feeling suicidal, you SHOULD seek help from a trained professional or trusted friend/family member. I think the reasons for why it mentions suicide the way it does are clear, but see me on the other side for more explanation.

(I meant the end of the story!!! Not the OTHER "other side"!!!)

Has anyone seen "Fight Club"? (AND OH MY GOD, I JUST REALIZED THAT MARLA FROM THAT MOVIE IS BELLATRIX!!!!!!!) Anyway...remember that scene when Brad Pitt is holding the gun up to the Asian guy's head, and he was asking him what he had wanted to be and why he was settling for being a convenience store clerk when he wanted to be a veterinarian (or whatever). And then he tells the guy that he will go enroll or Brad Pitt will come back and kill his entire family and kicks him, telling him to go home.

Edward Norton was beside himself, like, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!?!?!?!?" Do you remember Brad Pitt's answer? He was like, "Tomorrow will be the most beautiful day of Raymond K. Hessel's life. His breakfast will taste better than any meal you and I have ever tasted." Kind of a theme of what's going on in Draco's head...just thought I'd mention it...

You'll also have to read carefully because the lyrics aren't in the same order that they are in the song...*sigh* I tried, but it just worked better to intersperse them like they are, so I hope you don't mind TOO much.


Life is Beautiful by Graballz

Harry Potter landed heavily on the uncomfortable, squeaky bed in his room at the Leaky Cauldron and winced. The walls were rather thin, and he hated to make noise that his neighbors might hear. He’d already had a couple of sleepless nights this past week due to the voracious sexual appetite of the people across the hall; he was not looking forward to staring at the ceiling all night, listening to the soft cries and moans amidst a rhythmic mixture of a creaky bed and the headboard pounding against the wall. Especially not when he had important, somber things to do during the day, like attend funerals for his loved ones.

The Final Battle had been almost a week and a half ago; roughly ten days since he had killed Voldemort. To Harry, it felt like a million years ago and yesterday all wrapped up into one. Losing all the people who had died had brought back the crippling hurt from Sirius and Dumbledore; Harry gave a wry chuckle, glad at least that Mad-Eye had wanted to be cremated, so that was more of a memorial service.

After Mad-Eye Moody’s service, the next one that choked Harry up had been—of all people—Severus Snape’s funeral. It was less attended than Harry would have thought, but upon reflection, the man HAD been a miserable bastard, whatever his achievements. Horace Slughorn and Minerva McGonagall had been his only two colleagues from Hogwarts; Harry had been surprised that only a few Slytherin students from their year showed up. He had been glad, then, that he, Ron, and Hermione had encouraged the Gryffindors (and Luna) to show up, because theirs was the largest group at the service. Draco Malfoy had shown up, looking very small and alone, however tall and proud he tried to carry himself.

Andromeda Tonks had chosen to have a triple funeral for her husband, daughter, and son-in-law, which Harry thought was extremely brave, but as the older woman explained to him a few days before, with tears streaming down her cheeks while bouncing her grandson on her hip, she knew and accepted that it would hurt more all at once, but then she could go about dealing with her grief while caring for Teddy, who was now the focus of her world.

That had been last week; Harry had even held a small memorial for Hedwig, attended only by his closest friends: Ron and Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, and Luna Lovegood. He had hoped it would mark the end of the grieving and the sadness, since generally, people celebrated after a war. Harry had yet to see signs of celebration, however, and though he suspected he might never fully get over his grief, he just wanted life to have some shred of normalcy again.

That was one reason he was staying at the Leaky; the Weasley house was overflowing, and Harry didn’t think he could stomach Grimmauld by himself, especially given the circumstances. He had plenty of money in his vault still, and staying a few days at the inn wouldn’t break him financially. Although the over-sexed neighbors had made him consider moving out, he had stayed, and they finally left.

That brought Harry back to the consideration of his love life; Ginny was giving him space, he had noted with appreciation. He knew he still harbored feelings for her, though they had been dulled by other emotions, namely intense sorrow, regret, and overwhelming pangs of loss. He knew that eventually she’d confront him, and he hoped that when that time came, he would know how he felt.

Harry turned over, trying to get comfortable on the decidedly uncomfortable mattress. He wondered if the Cushioning Charms for broomsticks would help, but his wand was all the way on the nightstand, and Harry just didn’t have the energy to reach for it.

Today had been a particularly grueling day, which Harry hadn’t expected. After Hedwig’s service last week, Harry and the others had hung around Grimmauld, and eventually they remembered how to smile. Ron even cracked a few jokes, and Harry had been glad that they could all pretend like things were okay again. Then that night, a special edition of the Daily Prophet landed on the table with the headline:

MALFOY MATRIARCH COMMITS SUICIDE!!!

Harry’s breath had been stolen by the article, which was nothing more than blind speculation as to the reasons Narcissa Malfoy committed suicide and a gruesome photo of Draco Malfoy on his knees next to her body, shoulders slumped in defeat. The photographer had been careful to keep her mutilated wrists out of the shot, focusing instead on her stoic son. According to the paper, Malfoy had “declined comment”, only saying that he had believed “things were not as bad as they had been before the Dark Lord’s death”. Lucius Malfoy had been taken back to Azkaban almost immediately after the fighting had ceased (and was therefore, “unavailable to comment”), but he had been given permission to attend his wife’s funeral.

Cards, letters, and Floo calls began pouring into the Weasleys’ home as well as Grimmauld from reporters seeking Harry’s perspective on Narcissa Malfoy’s suicide. Naïve as he had been before, the Gryffindor now knew better; they didn’t care what his thoughts were. They just wanted another Boy-Who-Lived headline, and Harry refused to do that out of consideration of the life-debt that he owed the late blonde woman for saving his life in the forest.

He had sent flowers, of course, and attended the funeral. Malfoy had been stiff and reserved, barely looking up at anyone throughout the entire service. His father had sat tall and haughty beside him, and Harry remembered watching them with a sort of horrified detachment, wondering how they would get along without supporting and showing concern for the other. After the service, Lucius had been the first one to stop by her casket, and then the Aurors unceremoniously manhandled him, snapped the restraints back on his hands and feet, and dragged him away, presumably back to Azkaban.

By the time Harry had shaken himself and thought to look around for Draco, the blonde was nowhere in sight, though Hermione had whispered that the Slytherin had pretty much disappeared even before his father was hauled off, not even stopping by his mother’s coffin to say goodbye.

Harry let Ron and Hermione go ahead of him in the line, and he stopped beside the casket, lightly resting one hand on the polished wood, gazing unhappily at the breathtaking array of roses and other flowers that graced the top of the box.

“I still owe you a life-debt,” he whispered, his words for Narcissa and Narcissa alone. “I will find a way to pay it; I don’t know what made you decide to do this, but I hope you are at peace, wherever you are.”

He had glanced around once more for Draco and then left with Ron and Hermione. Back at the Weasleys’, Harry had moped in the living room for reasons unknown to him, and though Ginny had sat with him, her arm around his shoulders, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been off.

Finally he had politely excused himself after dinner and returned to his dingy little room, though it made him sigh in relief. He had sat down at the pub and had a couple of Firewhiskeys, hoping to take the edge off of his overactive mind without getting intoxicated. He wasn’t drunk when he headed back up to his room, though he rather wished he was when the mattress wouldn’t cooperate with his desire not to have a spring poking him in the back no matter which way he turned.

Sighing, Harry resigned himself to a bruise wherever the spring jabbed at him and closed his eyes, listening to the muffled sounds of someone walking—no, stumbling past his door, and then he jumped at the crash. He half sat up, watching his door with a furrowed brow; it sounded like the person in the hall had collapsed against his wall, and then the soft sobs began.

Harry froze as the heartbreaking cries cut him straight to the soul; he climbed out of bed, snatching his glasses and jamming them onto his face as he opened the door and poked his head out into the hallway. His eyes popped open wide as the man who was making all of the noise glanced up at him.

“Malfoy?!” Harry couldn’t help the shocked screech that flew from his lips. The blonde blinked, stifling the crying, though Harry’s heart went out to him unintentionally as he took in the shadows under the dull and pain-filled grey eyes and the wet streaks down the too-pale porcelain cheeks.

Against his will, Harry’s body stepped into the hallway, offering his hand to his former rival to pull him up. He was even more surprised when the Slytherin reached out and grasped it, the cuff of his jacket riding up just enough for Harry to see several pink lines that crisscrossed Malfoy’s wrist. Harry nearly lost his balance, unprepared for the tug, but he reacted quickly and was able to haul Malfoy to his feet without letting them both crash back down.

A door opened down the hall, and an angry woman’s face appeared.

“Keep it down out here, would you?” She spat. “Some of us are trying to sleep!”

“Sorry,” Harry said, gesturing. “My—He—Sorry.”

“Get your friend under control,” she snapped and disappeared back into her room before Harry could correct her.

“Potter?” Harry’s head snapped around at the bewildered tone of his former rival’s voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m staying here,” Harry answered, pointing towards his open door. Malfoy frowned at it and then nodded.

“So am I,” he offered, sweeping his arm as grandly as he could in the small corridor. “This is my room.” He fished his key out of his pocket and unlocked the door. Harry retreated to his doorway, leaning against it awkwardly.

“I guess we’re neighbors for the time being,” Harry forced a laugh. “Good night, then.”

Malfoy’s matching forced laugh made Harry freeze.

“Good? Why do you say ‘good’, Potter? Are you mocking me?”

“No, of course not,” Harry replied cautiously, not sure of what to make of Malfoy’s self-deprecating sarcastic tone. “It was just…something to say…”

“Don’t lie to me,” the Slytherin snapped, his grey eyes going hard. Harry was taken aback by the abrupt change in demeanor. “You were never any good at lying, you Gryffindor. You can’t learn to tell the truth until you learn to lie, Potter.”

“What?” Harry said, but Malfoy had already disappeared into his room and shut the door firmly. The Gryffindor shook his head, shutting his own door and going back over to his bed. He paused, listening for the telltale springs that meant Malfoy had laid down. It was silent while he waited, and he was just about to give up and get in bed when the soft sobbing started again.

Harry’s mouth twitched unhappily, and then he went still, ears straining. The crying had changed. It hadn’t stopped, but it was definitely…different. Harry realized he was hearing sounds of choking!

He spun on his heel and tore out of his room, not bothering to knock as he barged into Malfoy’s room, skidding to a stop when he saw the Slytherin collapse in the center of the room, hands around his own throat. Malfoy hadn’t even taken his jacket off, and his face was steadily going from red to purple as he gasped for air, even while sobbing.

Harry jumped forward without thinking, hitting his knees beside the blonde and grabbing Malfoy’s wrists, wrenching them from his throat. Malfoy’s head fell back as he inhaled audibly, filling his lungs with much-needed oxygen.

“What the hell are you doing, you prat?” Harry cried in shock. “Do you have a death wish?”

“You can’t breathe until you choke,” Malfoy gasped as fresh tears began tracking down his cheeks. “You can’t live until you die, Golden Boy. There’s nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive!”

“What?” Harry shook his head as he stared uncomprehendingly at his former rival as if he had grown another head.

“Just open your eyes,” Malfoy pulled his hands out of Harry’s grasp and pushed himself into a sitting position.

“Just open your eyes?” Harry repeated doubtfully, getting up and shutting the door. He quickly returned to his knees in front of the blonde, and Malfoy’s face lit up in a disturbing smile.

“And see that life is beautiful,” he finished reverently, patiently waiting until Harry was situated before answering. “Potter, promise me something.”

“What’s that?” Harry’s heart began to hammer.

“Will you swear on your life that no one will cry at my funeral?” The blonde choked a little, drawing his hands to his chest as his piercing gaze slid from Harry to the floor, caught up in his own thoughts.

“What are you talking about, Malfoy?” Harry grumbled, frowning as he reached out and grabbed one of the pale wrists, pushing the jacket up to expose the pink lines. “Are you suicidal? Did you do this?” He demanded in alarm, making eye contact with the unreadable grey eyes.

“I know some things you don’t,” the Slytherin replied cryptically, and Harry cocked his head. “And I’ve done things that you won’t.”

“If you’re talking about these,” Harry said coolly, indicating the marks on Malfoy’s wrist. “I’ve been there, Malfoy, done that. Fifth year, right after Sirius—”

“There’s nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home, huh,” Harry blinked at the almost-conversational tone the blonde adopted.

“Trail of blood? Whose blood?” Harry wondered if he should alert somebody. “What were you doing, Malfoy? Why aren’t you at home?”

“It’s so dead there; I was waiting for my hearse,” his former rival said, and then something in him shifted and he was near tears again. Harry let go as Malfoy reached up and took his jacket off, his wet eyes never leaving Harry’s as he began to unbutton his silver shirt.

“Wha—what are you doing?” Harry’s eyes widened as he leaned back, thoroughly confused.

“What came next was so much worse,” Malfoy whispered, drawing up onto his knees and watching Harry mimic him. The blonde’s hand came up, and he traced the Sectumsempra scar across his collarbone. “It took a funeral to make me feel alive,” he mumbled, caressing it.

“Alive? Malfoy, you ARE alive,” Harry was beginning to see a pattern to Malfoy’s behavior, even if he didn’t quite understand what was going on in the blonde’s head.

“You can’t live until you die,” he replied, which was along the lines of what Harry expected him to say. “I never did thank you, Potter.”

“Thank me?” That was definitely unexpected. “For what?”

“For making me open my eyes and see that life is beautiful,” the blonde said again. “I didn’t realize it at the time, but when you and I dueled in the bathroom during sixth-year…that was the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“You mean, when I nearly killed you?” Harry’s voice went shrill, and the little hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. Surely Malfoy didn’t mean… “I felt terrible about that! You were damn lucky Snape was nearby. He tried to keep it from scarring, but—”

Harry broke off as Malfoy held up his hand. The blonde’s mouth twitched downward when Harry mentioned Snape, and the Gryffindor sensed that Malfoy hadn’t quite come to terms with the Slytherin professor’s death yet.

“You can’t quit until you try,” he mumbled.

“What?” Harry asked, trying to get the blonde to keep talking.

“It’s something Snape used to say,” Malfoy lifted his head, and Harry’s breath caught. His former rival’s face was unmasked, for once, and Harry saw his own sadness and grief mirrored on the blonde’s pointed face, mixed with something else…something…euphoric…and yet…disturbing… “You can’t quit until you try. Even if I botched a potion or couldn’t get the incantation correct, he would tell me that I couldn’t quit until I tried. I always hated when he said that because I thought I WAS trying. Then I realized he meant that you can’t quit until you’ve tried and failed…”

“Come on, Malfoy, you’re not a failure,” Harry tried to deflect the heavy atmosphere by laughing weakly. “Life is beautiful, remember?”

“Yes, it is,” the blonde smiled serenely, reminding Harry acutely of Luna. “And you gotta laugh when you’re the joke. Now will you promise or not?”

“Joke? You’re not the joke,” Harry said, trying to remember the favor Malfoy had asked of him.

“Will you swear on your life that no one will cry at my funeral?”

“Malfoy, your funeral isn’t going to be for a good, long while,” Harry laughed again nervously, uncomfortable with the hints at his own death that the Slytherin kept dropping. “Why don’t you want anyone to cry?”

“Because life,” Malfoy paused, and Harry waited expectantly, “is too short to cry. If anyone should know that, it would be me. Just open your eyes, Potter.”

“What do you want me to see?”

“See that life is beautiful,” Malfoy’s eyes filled with tears again. “I was under quite a bit of stress when you gave me that gift the first time, so I couldn’t appreciate it the way I do now. It took a funeral—my mother’s funeral—to make me feel alive.”

“And why is that?” Harry moved a bit closer, drawn to Malfoy’s…humanity.

“Because I was there when she died,” he whispered. “I watched her cross over. At first I was scared because of what she had done, but that’s what she whispered to me. Her last words to me were, ‘Life is beautiful.’ If THAT were true, why did she want to die? Why did she show me only the ugly parts? Letting Father slip away? Become a Death Eater? Slit her wrists? If life is so fucking beautiful, why haven’t I seen it?”

Harry’s throat closed up at Malfoy—Draco’s pleading tone, and when those big grey eyes silently begged him for an answer—any answer—Harry reacted the only way he knew how; he put his arms around the Slytherin and pulled him close, feeling his own body shake with sobs as they cried together, shedding the pain, the fear, the loss, the grief.

“Life IS beautiful,” Harry whispered. “Your father never reached out to you during your mother’s funeral; friends help show you the beauty in life. They support you; they’re there for you, and they remind you to how to smile when you’re ready to give up. If your friends haven’t ever done that for you, then let me…Draco.”

“I don’t have friends,” Draco whimpered. “I wasn’t raised to have friends. I’m a failure; don’t you see, Potter? I’m the joke that you and YOUR friends laugh at.”

“No,” Harry’s vision blurred once more. “Never again; I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Draco said softly, examining his wrist again for a minute before his hand slid up of its own volition. “No one should cry at my funeral…” His grip tightened, cutting off his air supply again.

“Stop that!” Harry violently ripped Draco’s hand away from his throat. “You’re not going to die!”

“The first breath you take after almost passing out is the sweetest,” Draco explained. “If you close your eyes, when you open them again, that is the best moment in the world, the moment when you feel most alive: right before you die.”

“I won’t let you kill yourself,” Harry hissed furiously as tears stung his cheeks.

“Then you’ll have given me this exquisite gift a second time.”

“No, it’ll be the life-debt,” Harry said on sudden inspiration. “We’ll get through this, Draco. I know it’s hard right now, but it will get better. I promise. I’ll show you how to open your eyes and really see that life is beautiful. Together.”

“The life-debt you owe my mother,” Draco said absently, chuckling bitterly at the thing he thought he knew that Harry didn’t. Life-debts were an old pureblooded tradition; Draco didn’t expect the Gryffindor to have any knowledge of pureblood ways. “Then you will succeed where I failed, because I believe that is what I should have said to my mother. I thought things were getting better; that first week was truly horrible. She cried a lot and hardly ate, but…I didn’t think…I didn’t realize…I thought things were getting better!”

He began to cry again, and Harry wrapped him tightly, planting kisses on his blonde hair as tears trickled down to stain the fine strands.

“Cry it out,” he instructed gently. “Get it all out. Then I’ll help you stop lying to yourself. You’re not a failure, never were. You were dealt some pretty horrible blows, Draco, and we’ll clean up the blood trail together.”

FIN

Author’s note—Alright, I figured out what I wanted to say about this. Fair warning, this might actually be longer than the story...

I think it’s the perfect counterpart to my other songfic “How to Save a Life” (by The Fray) because in that one, it was Harry who was messed up and Draco was the one who saved/rescued/redeemed him (whichever word you want to use). In this one, it’s Draco who has somewhat cracked and Harry gets to be the strong one.

Remember, when Draco was younger, he was obviously spoiled, which meant a lot of undivided attention from both Narcissa and Lucius (well, I think so, anyway…makes it hurt more later…) and he was probably told how cute/amazing/perfect he was all the time. Then he goes to Hogwarts, meets Harry, and is suddenly no longer the best at everything. He’s no longer the ‘perfect’ child, and so Lucius’ attention starts slipping away. Draco starts to panic, putting more effort into pleasing his parents so that they’ll love him and pay attention to him the way they used to.

Lucius is obviously displeased that Draco is only second-best in his class as far as academics go and second-best as a Seeker, since he can never catch the Snitch before Harry. I see Narcissa as paying more attention to Draco than Lucius, but less than when he was little because he’s no longer ‘the baby’. He’s growing up, which is less special (in her eyes), and even though Draco redoubles his efforts to please them, he’s doomed to fail because he’s trying to meet unrealistic expectations.

Then as the years go by, Draco starts to realize that he’ll never be the best anymore, and though he still tries, he starts to accept his failure (to meet unreasonable expectations) and starts to believe that he IS a failure. Then his father’s imprisoned, which means absolutely zero attention from Lucius since he’s no longer there. Narcissa’s too preoccupied with herself to realize what she’s doing to her son, and then Draco gets assigned his task to kill Dumbledore.

And yeah, I made up the part about Snape quoting “you can’t quit until you try”, but I see him as fulfilling a type of surrogate father role, almost. He pays attention to Draco, though Snape is also a harsh taskmaster, unforgiving of mistakes, but even that attention is better than none at all, in Draco’s mind. Plus Snape’s definition of “trying” is more along the lines of “doing it right the first time by accident’’ and then after that, “practicing” means “getting it right every time” (so you can see where Snape wouldn’t let him quit until he did it right once…)

Anyway…back to sixth-year. Draco’s again been assigned this impossible task that he has no hope of accomplishing. He tries anyway, though as we know through the book, he starts to get more and more desperate until he finally breaks down and cries in the bathroom, where Harry accidentally sees him and nearly kills him.

This is really where the whole “Fight Club” scene comes in (though Draco doesn’t realize it at the time…that mentality only becomes apparent after the war, when he was looking back at his past), because after nearly dying, Draco finally fixes the cabinet and succeeds. Unlike with what happened with his parents, he’s finally succeeded at this impossible task, so he starts to think that maybe he’s not a failure anymore. (and make sure that you notice the difference in his thinking about failing at something and BEING a failure...)

Then comes the scene on the tower where Draco is faced with the reality of killing Dumbledore, and he can’t do it. Which (in his mind) makes him a failure after all. Snape does it for him, and then Draco’s seventh year begins after he’s been forced to watch people die and isn’t able to do anything about it. Once again, Draco is powerless to control his surroundings, which contributes to his “being a failure”.

At the Manor when Harry and company are captured, he is able to avoid directly identifying Harry, which is in a way, a small victory for Draco. He breaks through the expectations put upon him and doesn’t succumb to that pressure from his parents to identify Harry, instead choosing to be vague. It results in insults from his aunt, but also a little bit of indirect attention from his mother when she sticks up for him.

Living at home in the Manor with both of his parents (and Voldemort) is surreal, but because his family is together again, Draco doesn’t complain. His parents are even paying attention to him again because suddenly…the little stuff doesn’t matter so much in the face of potential death. (Sarcasm alert: huh…imagine that!) This time around, Draco’s trying to figure out what he has to do to earn and keep his parents’ attention, but because it’s not because of anything he’s DONE (and therefore can’t lose by not doing), he wants it to stay like that. (Can you blame him?)

Of course, THAT particular want/desire brings a hell of a lot of shame with it because the trade off is that the most evil wizard of all time is wreaking havoc on the world around them…and he knows he SHOULD want Voldemort to be stopped…and it’s not like he actively WANTS Voldemort to rule…he just wants things back the way they were when he was little; when he didn’t have to DO anything for his parents’ love and attention…it was just THERE. And now, he’s not little anymore, but suddenly, it’s just THERE again, and he wants to keep that.

Then he’s sent back to Hogwarts, where Harry shows up, and suddenly they’re in the middle of battle. Both of his parents are with Voldemort, and Draco’s terrified he’s going to lose one or both of them…just when he was finally getting what he needed. He conceives that last desperate attempt to capture Harry (in order to bargain for his parents so that things can be ‘normal’ again) but that fails…which just reminds him of how much of a loser he really is.

Here’s the thing to remember also: Draco doesn’t know that deep down, his parents really do love them like they show they do in Book 7. He’s grown accustomed to the conditions and the expectations placed upon him (“If I’m the best, they’ll love me/pay attention to me”), and remember, neither Lucius nor Narcissa ever TELL Draco that they love him. The only way he knows is when they pay attention to him, and that is extremely conditional. It doesn’t mean that Lucius and Narcissa DON’T love him (because they do)…they just suck at showing it. (Malfoys, purebloods, AND Slytherins to boot…)

Whenever (in Book 7) Lucius and Narcissa are pleading with Voldemort to let them go find Draco, Draco doesn’t know that! He’s not there at that time, so how could he know? WE (the audience) know, and when Narcissa lies to Voldemort because Harry told her Draco was alive, HARRY realizes how much she loves her son. (It even says in that chapter.) But through all of this, DRACO doesn’t know until it’s all over with, and he’s huddled with his parents.

The picture in my mind was Narcissa clinging to Draco, holding him, while crying (overwrought with emotion and so thankful that he’s alive) and Lucius has his arms around HER, effectively holding them both. After seventeen years and a fucking war, Draco finally has the unconditional love and attention of both of his parents once again…and this time, Voldemort’s dead, so he can feel free to want it to stay that way WITHOUT the guilt and shame from before.

But yet again, all that is ripped from him too soon when Lucius is carted back to Azkaban once more. He wasn’t really following Voldemort anymore, and both Narcissa and Draco know this (because they weren’t really either), so it’s doubly hard to watch him be taken back into custody for being a Death Eater when, there at the end, he really wasn’t.

Now I would imagine that, after the war, some people are probably pretty pissed off that the Malfoys get to change sides (Voldie’s there: “we follow you, master!” Voldie’s gone: “we never really followed him.” Voldie’s back: “oh, master, we’re so glad you’re back!” type of a thing) so Narcissa and Draco end up with a lot of hate mail when they leave Hogwarts and go back to the Manor. Howlers, curses, hexes, you name it. Plus there are still the traces of that monster, from when he was living there, so Narcissa’s probably rather stressed out, which means she lashes out at Draco, who is desperate for his mother’s approval.

Draco’s doing what he can, even though life has taught him over and over that he’s a failure. He’s probably doing a lot of reflecting and soul-searching, but hasn’t come to any definite conclusions yet. Then he finds his mother on the floor, bleeding out and dying by her own hand. Of course things were going to be hard at first, but instead of suffering through it to GET to the part where it gets better, Narcissa takes the easy way out by ending it all. (Not that suicide is easy, but to her, it’s easier than continuing to live. She’s obviously not thinking of Draco and the fact that her death leaves him all alone in the world, which is also what make suicide a very selfish act.)

The last thing she says to him, though, “life is beautiful” really throws Draco for a loop. After all of the horrible things, how can she say that? He doesn’t understand, but that’s when he realizes that she’s right; if you can’t breathe one second, the next breath you take is the sweetest one ever. If you’re about to die, you feel the most alive and appreciative of life’s beauty.

(And when he remembers almost dying in sixth-year, he realizes that it was only after near-death that he succeeded, and since Harry was the cause of that near-death experience, Draco feels like Harry gave him a gift…the gift of opening his eyes and seeing how beautiful life really is. Of course, he concedes that he wasn’t fully appreciative of it when it happened, but in hindsight, he’s realized that no one else has ever done anything like that for him…and of course, ironically, it WOULD be Harry who did it…)

I would like to take a moment now to discuss the request to “swear on your life that no one will cry at my funeral”. Draco, being a Malfoy, has been raised to believe that tears, failing, fear are weaknesses and weakness is unacceptable. (and this is his thought process) Weakness means that he’s not perfect, and if he’s not perfect, his parents won’t love him or pay attention to him, and it emphasizes that he IS a failure because he’s failing to be perfect. Draco desperately doesn’t want that, but over and over, control is taken from him and he’s basically set up to fail.

When he goes to his mother’s funeral, everyone else around is crying, but Draco knows that no amount of tears will bring his mother back. So why cry, then? What’s the point of it? You and I know that tears are healthy expressions of emotion, and it’s better to get it out than repress it. Draco doesn’t know this, and he’s been taught to repress his emotions, which is why when he breaks down and cries, it’s a flood. All he knows is that tears are useless, so he doesn’t want anyone to cry at HIS funeral (which is a reference that Harry mistakes for a symptom of being suicidal).

Here’s the other thing at play: Draco knows he could make some sort of request like that, but (like the rest of the things he’s tried to do), it would fail. People would cry at his funeral anyway, and then not only would he have been a failure in life, Draco realizes that he would be a failure postmortem as well. (Not necessarily a failure AT death, but a failure IN death, perhaps).

So he asks the one person who he KNOWS is not a failure, because Harry’s beaten Draco at everything, which makes him a “not failure” or a success. No matter what the odds, Harry always comes out on top, and so Draco knows that he can ask the impossible of Harry and Harry can and will give it. So he tries to make him promise to make sure that no one will cry at his (Draco’s) funeral, but as you read, Harry doesn’t promise that. Ironically, it’s one of the things that alerts Harry to the fact that there is something seriously wrong with Draco, and he wonders how no one noticed before now, when it started, etc. As their conversation goes on, Harry realizes that Draco is correct: there IS no one to catch Draco’s hints, there IS no one to care. And Harry realizes that he wants to be that person, in the end…

Draco scraped his wrists, yes, but more in an attempt to understand the revelation he’s had than an actual wish to die. He also wants to understand why his mother did it, but he also can’t bring himself to really, truly kill himself because he really, truly, deep down doesn’t want to die. So he half-heartedly scratched at his wrists, but because that’s usually a sign of being suicidal, Harry mistakes his intentions.

There was also Draco choking himself. Now this one was interesting because I actually went into the bathroom and did it, just to see what would happen. My face started turning purple almost immediately, and started swelling up with blood. Now, it was late at night, so I had to be quiet, but I was surprised at how little noise asphyxiation made. In the movies, when one person is choking another, it always sounds so loud, but I guess that’s because the person doesn’t WANT to be choked and is struggling. I even tried coughing, but that didn’t really sound any different.

Now granted, I didn’t choke myself out and I obviously didn’t die. (Geek moment: I did notice my eyes starting to turn red with petechial hemorrhaging like they always talk about on “CSI”...and I'm such a loser that I actually spent about an hour trying to find the spelling of "petechial" before I finally asked a medical friend...) And I AM in martial arts, so I AM used to being choked more than your average person. I have a mortal fear of not being able to breathe, so this was especially troublesome for me to try it. I was surprised when I didn’t start to panic more, so yay me for that, I guess. LOL I also am not suicidal. (I have had suicidal tendencies in the past, but there was only one time that I can remember where I really felt like I COULD do it…and even then, deep down, I really didn’t want to.)

And maybe that’s morbid, but I wanted to experience what Draco was feeling, experimenting with death (sort of) without actually wanting to die. Obviously most people would define this as “suicidal” (as Harry does), even though Draco does NOT have an actual death wish.

Draco, after all of this has happened to him, is confronted by Harry, who is obviously disconcerted with the changes in the boy he used to know. He comes to the (erroneous) conclusion that Draco is suicidal based on the evidence, but recognizes the pain of loss in Draco that Harry himself has been struggling with. Harry, though, has the luxury of having Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasleys to lean on, to hug him, and to pull him out of his own head when he starts to get depressed.

He realizes that Draco doesn’t have that, but in true Gryffindor fashion, is unable to leave (abandon) him in his hour of need. Draco’s emotions get the best of him, and Harry makes the choice to be there for Draco when he comforts the blonde instead of turning his back (like life has taught Draco everyone will do to him when he needs help—hence the questions of how life can be beautiful, since he’s been told that it is, but he has never personally experienced it).

Except that I’d say right now, there are two different concepts of “life is beautiful”. There’s the traditional “life is beautiful” family/friends are important, ‘beauty is nature’ type of thinking. This kind of beauty endures; it lasts. Granted, it’s not 100% beautiful 100% of the time, but it’s a “glass half full” sort of perspective. That’s the kind that makes life worth living, but Draco’s never experienced this.

Then there’s the untraditional “life is beautiful” that is experienced only through death or near-death. It’s found in the exhilarating moments right before something extreme and only lasts for those few precious moments. Even though someone can remember that feeling, it can ONLY be experienced by risking death (or something equivalent…hence why there’s that new trend of “thrill-junkies”) Draco felt it once (in sixth-year) and now he’s trying to better understand his mother’s suicide AND trying to find the moments of beauty the only way he’s ever experienced it.

And because he’s alone, it’s hard to have a family/friends experience when there IS no one else…or if he’s never been close to anyone. So to him, the “thrill-seeking” is the only way that he sees, but he also realizes how futile it is. It only takes one attempt to go wrong, and then he’s dead (instead of almost-dead and absolutely, utterly alive), so Draco recognizes the risk and the tragic sense of irony that he doesn’t want to die, even though he lives alone.

But now, Harry is offering him something that no one else has: love, support, attention…(another theme: Draco lost his parents’ attention at home, but he continued to pester Harry over the years because Harry would always pay attention to him…) and Draco realizes it’s unconditional. Or maybe he doesn’t know it yet, but he will…

Okay, there’s not *actually* a REAL blood trail that leads from the Leaky Cauldron back to Malfoy Manor, and after Draco says that (startling Harry) Harry realizes that it’s more of a metaphor than a literal statement. The “trail of blood” that helps him find his way home can mean whatever you want it to mean…

For me, it means that Draco looks back at his life and sees a long line of failures and mistakes. For him, that IS his “trail of blood”: tracing his successive failures, and here again with the distinction: failing at something does NOT make someone a failure. But because Draco was working with unreasonable expectations and striving to be perfect, of COURSE he was going to fail! And after he failed over and over, that’s what he began to expect, no matter what kind of effort he put forth. And to him (and his way of thinking, thank you, Lucius), failing makes him a failure. Draco doesn’t WANT to be a failure, and he knows that he wasn’t once (hence his idea of “home”). If he traces his failures back far enough, he comes to that point in his childhood when he WAS perfect, he WAS the best, and his parents loved him and gave him attention for it.

He wants that again; he wants to be “home”, but he doesn’t know how to get there because life has taught him that he can’t ever be that again. When Harry refuses to let Draco attempt suicide anymore and offers to help “clean up” the blood trail, that’s the start of his showing Draco that it’s OKAY not to be perfect. It’s OKAY to make mistakes, and that perfection is unreasonable. He’s telling Draco that Draco is no longer alone, and that together, they will redeem Draco for his past mistakes—realistically this time—and THEN Draco will be able to truly put his past behind him…open his eyes…and see that life IS beautiful.

(Sorry, maybe this should have been another chapter lol Thanks for listening to my ramblings. What do YOU think?)