A/N: I’ve just done a whole bunch of editing and I realize that there were a few spelling mistakes and errors and such. It’s also been added to, as well as a new banner, done by yours truly. So enjoy and please leave a review.
I DO NOT Claim this Song. It was originally written and sung by Gowan. I DO NOT Claim the characters in this story. They are the property of J.K. Rowling.
So we begin. My life sentence. The end of my life, as it were. Not much of a life, mind you. Cruel, unfeeling parents. A dangerous world out there, that’s what it is, or was. I don’t quite know how long I’ve been behind these bars. How long I’ve been subjected to this madness, this cold malice. The Dementors stalk the corridors between cells. I stay chained up, here, alone, inside myself. I know I should feel their effects. I suppose you could say I do, but I don’t. I am not afraid of what I have become, because everything I am is because of her. Actually, that’s not true. I am a better person because of her, but not really the best kind of person.
You see my hands are steady
You've seen my face before
She was the one person who could have brought me back. My other, better, best half. Her face, glowing as she smiled, looking into my eyes, cold and dull, blue-grey. I remember the last day she came to see me, before I was brought here. This cold dingy place is no place for something so beautiful. The thought of her among these unfeeling walls makes me shudder.
It was just before my trial when she came. Dressed in her school uniform, a single black sash tied around her neck, signaling to me that she would not give up hope. I walked in, hands shackled, surrounded by dark wizard catchers, Aurors in their prime. She knew I was dangerous. She knew what I was capable of, and yet she saw past it all.
Soon you can take your last look
And they'll close the door
I hated what she said to me, because I knew it was true. Our last night together. Beautiful and seemingly endless. But it did end. And she ended it, even with hope.
“You are not a bad person,” she tried to convince me, her wavy brown hair clinging to the sides of her tear-stained face, framing everything I knew and loved. “Draco, please, don’t go. Don’t do this.”
I stand accused before you
I have no tears to cry
“I have no choice,” I remember replying cruelly. Her eyes still burn into my very soul. Every kiss, every touch, it all stays with me. I didn’t have a choice and she knew that. But she chose not to see it. She tried to make me change. But I am unchangeable. I was cold, and heartless, even though she could make me melt at just one glance.
And you will never break me
Till the day I die
Yes, I was as sturdy as a rock. And as cold. Cold and unfeeling, that was who I was, who I was born to be. With all her pleading, all her hope, she could not change that.
A criminal mind
Is all I've ever known
I was raised to fear nothing, to stand my ground. My father saw to that. He wouldn’t have been able to stomach a sissy son. Not the son of Lucius Malfoy; not the son of a proud Death Eater. My father, the only man I ever feared. Sometimes I wonder if he was ever like me. And then after I wonder, I clearly see it. I am the spitting image of my father. Every wrinkle, every frown, every evil glare I have given, they were all mirror reflections of my father.
The only difference is that I listened to them all. All their pleas, begging me not to kill them, telling me I was better than that. My father would never have stood for that kind of hesitation. Those pauses would have been a sign of weakness and it would not have crossed his mind to stop what he was doing. He was unfeeling and totally numb.
I wasn’t. I think Hermione taught me that.
They tried to reform me
But I'm made of cold stone
When I was with her, everything blurred. Everything I was taught by my father, all the harsh words, it all faded. It all disappeared in her arms. It left me with a kind of contented peace, for a time.
Her hands in mind, her cheek resting on mine, her luscious body molding perfectly with mine was the best thing I had ever experienced. Those were the only times when I wasn’t my father's son. I was a lover, a man with a heart, a man who was capable of loving just one woman. And I did. I loved Hermione. But it had been drilled into me my entire life: duty before love, obedience before all else. To obey was and always had been my task. And I would follow through with my obligations, despite Hermione’s frantic pleas. She saw someone else that I was never able to see.
My criminal mind
Is all I've ever had
Even in her arms, I could not forget that I would soon have to leave them. Soon I would be gone from her. Soon I would have to follow through with my charge. That was the only sorrow I ever felt. Leaving her. It made my heart bleed on the inside to see her tears, to see those blessed little water droplets spill from her eyes and down her cheeks.
Ask one who's known me
If I'm really so bad...I AM
I was Draco Malfoy, and I was the purest of purebloods, and I was in love with Hermione Granger, a muggle born. We were in love for a time, we basked in that love of one another and sometimes I could make myself believe that it would never end. But I had to leave. That was where everything went wrong, where everything turned on me. As soon as I left her side, she was no longer a hope to me, a salvation. She was a distant memory that had to be repressed at all costs. And now I see her only at a distance, staring out into my memories through my steel cage.
I've spent my life behind these steel bars
I've paid my debt in time
I don’t think I’ll ever see her again. What I did was reproachable; unforgivable. Not even she would forgive me. I had destroyed the world she knew and loved. I had helped destroy the people she loved.
It was too bad I had not destroyed myself in the process. But I had to get caught. What a fool I had been. I got caught and my head went on the chopping block. She had come to the trial with that longing look in her eyes. And although she wore that black sash that I had given her, I knew her hope was dwindling. She wore it to give me hope, though she kept none for herself. Her hope for me was to keep going, but what part of that was for me to survive and what part was letting me know she still cared and would always care?
But being brought to justice
That was my only crime
I should never have been brought here though. This cage would only hold me for so long. I know what I had done. I was an outlaw, and when I accepted that, everything disappeared. I was alone in the world, despair-ridden and hollow. Yes, I was definitely hollow.
But you know, even with my acceptance of such things, I would still do it again. I felt nothing; I had never felt anything, so I would commit horrors again. Perhaps that’s why they kept me locked up, away from people, because they knew my mind better than I knew it myself. I was a criminal.
I don't regret a single action
I'd do the same again
These prison walls secure me
And I'm numb to pain
A criminal mind. That’s all I’ve every known. Don’t try to reform me. Cause I’m made of cold stone. The words kept repeating over and over again in my head. I’ll never see the light of day again. Never see my beauty’s face. And perhaps it’s for the best.
“Hmm?” she said as she looked up over the top of one of her books. So typical of her, to have a book in her hands.
“Would you…would you wait for me?”
“Wait for you?” she asked, closing the book and clutching it to her chest. She looked worried, or maybe skeptical. “What do you mean Draco?”
“Will you wait for me to come back?”
“Come back from where Draco? What are you talking about?” Now she looked worried.
“I…well I might not come back for a long time. I might get…delayed.”
Her eyes dropped. “Oh.” She knew what I meant now. Even though she didn’t want to, she did, all too well. “Why are you planning to leave, if you know you might get ‘delayed’?”
That hit me in the heart. She was hoping that she would be reason enough for me to stay. To stay out of danger. To be kept safe in her arms. I looked into her eyes searching to find it, the reason for my feelings to be enough.
My criminal mind
Is all I've ever had
Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t. It felt like it should be. Like it had to be the only reason to stay. Why I could stay. But I could feel the tugging at my heart. She tugged one way, and my father tugged me the other. He was counting on me. And even through his cold malevolence, I could not deny that pull.
It had been drilled into me my entire life and now, at this pivotal moment in my youth, it could not be denied. I could not run from who I was. I was a stone, cold killer and there were things to be done, whether Hermione liked it or not. I don’t think she ever understood that much at least. It was a part of me.
“Because I have to, Hermione.”
She hopped off the table she’d been sitting on and walked over to me. There were tears brimming in her eyes. I couldn’t understand how she could tear me up like this. I knew there was no way to change how I felt. But those tears, those wet drops of salty perspiration that dropped from her beautiful brown eyes, they almost did me in.
Ask one who's known me
If I'm really so bad...I AM
I reached out to her, and she took my hand. I can still remember how her hand felt in mine. It’s soft warmth. It’s neutral color. It was all so wonderful. And yet I had walked away from it, from her. I kissed her lips. And walked away, calling over my shoulder, “Wait for me, Hermione.” I couldn’t stand there and watch those tears fall down her cheeks a second longer.
I didn’t expect her to wait for me. I never really expected that. There was just a hope inside of me, somewhere deep, longing for someone to run to when I got out.
Azkaban was as hollow as I was. Cold bars, cold stone, cold feelings that surrounded our cells. It was no more than I deserved, for walking away from the one I loved to do a horrible deed. To kill, to murder. I felt like I wanted to scream somehow. But scream what? Who would hear me? Who would care?
I'm made of cold stone
Just like your prison walls