Prompt: In which Draco Malfoy lets it go.
Draco Malfoy watched his reflection swim in the mirror, his features clouded together through his silvery-white tears. His breathing was jagged and his throat was tight. He wanted to curl up on the floor of the bathroom, bring his head to his knees, and die. Never before had he so valiantly regretted his decisions.
He ran a shaky, pale hand through his short blonde hair and continued to stare at himself as yet another set of warm tears trekked their way down his gaunt face.
With that, he let out a short, but rather intense, cry of pure anguish, launching himself away from the mirror and into the wall behind him. Frustration and anger swam around in his stomach, the need for something, anything, to distract him from the hell he was living so strong that it threatened to break free.
But, as usual, Draco held his feelings back. He closed his eyes, trying desperately to calm himself down before he did something irrational. He wanted to escape.
He wanted to die.
He would rather die than become a Death Eater. He would rather die than live a life of lies. He would rather die than become evil. He would rather die than join Voldemort.
“Don’t let them in,” he finally breathed, fervently remembering a song his mother had sung to him when he was little. His heart lifting, he continued with the chorus, his voice louder.
“Don’t let them see, be the good boy you always have to be!” His voice was stronger now, carrying through the empty bathroom, but he didn’t care. For the moment, he had found his escape. He had found solace. And as the words ripped from his lungs and flew from his throat, he felt strong.
“Conceal don’t feel, don’t let them know…..Well now they know! Let it go!” Tears streamed down his face as he sang, yet a smile was playing upon his light pink lips. His voice was scratchy with emotion, but there was something beautiful, something raw, about it.
“Can’t hold it back anymore! Let it go, let it go, turn away and slam the door-“suddenly, he had ceased with the melody.
Somebody was listening. He could feel it.
He turned around, fury now taking over the happiness and freedom he had felt just seconds ago. Because it wasn’t just anybody watching him.
It was Hermione Granger. The mudblood.
“GET OUT!” He yelled, more tears building up in his eyes and turning his vision foggy.
“Your voice is beautiful,” Hermione whispered, not daring to move away from her spot. She stared deep into Draco’s eyes, trying to maintain eye contact, trying to calm him down. But it was no use. In an instant, Draco had grabbed her robes and pulled her close to his face, lifting her up so her feet dangled a few inches off the ground.
“Mention this to anyone, and you’ll be dead.” His voice was soft, more of a murmur, but firmer and tougher than any other command Hermione had ever heard. She nodded numbly, and Draco dropped her, letting her fall to the ground.
He walked out of the bathroom.
“I don’t care, what they’re going to say,” Hermione sang to herself, standing up and brushing herself off. She loved that tune. It may have been old, but it didn’t mean that its message was no longer powerful.
“Let the storm rage on……” A soft voice crooned, right outside the door. Hermione sucked in her breath. She could recognize it anywhere.
“The cold never bothered me anyway,” she replied, only to find that the brusque voice was singing along with her.
Smiling, she leaned against the wall, continuing the melody.
“It’s funny how some distance, makes everything seem small…..The fears that once controlled me, can’t get to me at all!” She and Draco trilled in unison.
She wanted to keep singing, but soft sobs told her to give the poor boy his space.
And so she sat, listening to the quiet heaves from the other side of the wall, and whispered, so quietly that one might have missed it, “You’re free, Draco.”
The crying ceased.
And a tiny, yet deep, voice replaced it.
“Let it go.”