Harry Potter 1. Empty Tears

** Title:** Hero? Or Myth?   
  
** Rating:** R because of Violence, Language and Sexual Content.   
  
** Timeline:** 7th Year   
  
** Pairings:** All pairings are Suggested, said, or just. . Are. Harry/Draco, Hermione/Ron, Dean/Seamus, Ginny/Neville are a few, among others. (Lilly/James, Arthur/Molly, ect. .)   
  
** Disclaimer:** All characters are Copy righted J.K Rowling 2002-2003. No money is being made off of them, nor do I want to make money off of them. The only thing I own is the plot, the key between light and darkness, and a candle I got for my birthday. . .   
  
** Summary:** Harry's more depressed then ever. His friends are afraid that he's distancing himself again, and that this time he won't be able to come back. Harry begins to think that he should have died all those years ago -- That he can't feel anymore. Then the person who he least expects shows him that he's wrong; That he's still human after all. But what happens when another prophecy is made? It promises the victory to the side of the light -- To Harry -- Provided if he can find the key that links Light and Darkness. Provided he can be the hero everyone thinks he is. .   
  
** Warning:** Mayjor OOTP Spoilers. . If you haven't read the 5th book, i do not reccomend you read this story unless you don't care that it spoils alot of the mayjor events. . (Namely who dies.) And it also has slash, which means male-on-male relationships. If you don't like slash, its simple -- dont read. Another words, don't flame just cause its slash! You've been warned. .   
  


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** Author's Note:** I would like to say that this chapter is a little choppy for the fact that Harry's thinking all of this in a [different] type of Pensive -- that works like a normal one, but also sort of like a diary would. That also makes it a little short, but I promise the next chapter will be longer. That is if you want me to continue. . Anyway, Regardless of those little facts -- I hope you enjoy!   
  
P.S: I'll post the next chapter when its finished -- But only if 5 or more people have reviewed!   
  


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**Hero? Or Myth?**

  
  
Prologue --   
  
In Harry's 6th year it got worse. Another battle broke out near Hogsmaed, where the Order of the Phoenix had dwindled down to but a few remaining people. Harry had faced Voldemort again that year -- But it didn't end. Time seemed to have stopped. . And then, when it started again. . Voldemort was gone. No one knew where he was -- Not even his most loyal servants. The light knew he was once again bidding his time. . But how long would it last this time?   
  
Now its Harry's 7th year and he's returned to Hogwarts. Harry's more depressed then ever. . . He knows it has to end soon. . One way or another.   
  
  
  
  
** Chapter One:**   
_ .Empty Tears_   
  
  
     Disappointment. Worry. _Pity_.   
  
     I hate those looks. Disappointment that it isn't over -- that I didn't kill him. Worry that I never will. Pity . . Pity, because in a way he killed me. Even my friends feel it. They say they don't, but I can tell. Ron's probably the most disappointed though . . Poor Bill . . Tonks . . Moody . . Luna . . Neville. . Neville was amazing. Who knew he had it in him? Still, so many people died. So many people that were loved . . How could this all happen? How could I let it happen?   
  
All of those people died because of me. . Because I couldn't kill him. I don't want any more blood on my hands. I need to kill him. I_ have_ to. . I owe it to them. .   
  
     Hermione worries. She worries that I'm distancing myself again -- That this time, I won't be able to come back. She's probably right. But I don't care. I don't not care either. I don't. . . I don't _anything_ anymore.   
  
     I can't feel. I won't.   
  
     Everyone thinks I'm crazy. They say their there for me, but when ever I look in their eyes I can see it. They think I'm crazy. I have a feeling that even Hermione is beginning to wonder how the world can lie in my hands. I've wondered that for a long time though. Why me?   
  
     Every time I think of all of the deaths. . I cry. I used to feel a dull pain in my heart when ever I thought of them. But now I don't. I don't feel anything . .Yet I still cry. Why? There's really no point. . My tears are empty now. . Just like me. _Empty._   
  
     I remember how bad I thought it was when Sirius died. If only I had known then how many deaths would follow. . How many deaths that I _should_ have stopped -- But couldn't. I wish he had killed me. I wish I was dead instead of them. .   
  
     No I don't. I know that. . If I was dead that would mean he would still be living. Then there'd be more. . More blood. . More death. .   
  
     I hate knowing the prophecy. If feels like all of my hope has gone. . Everyone's hope. .   
  
     Ugh! Not again. . Not more tears.   
  
     I hate this. I Can't stop crying. I don't know why either. . I'm empty. I feel nothing -- Only Guilt. Guilt that all of those people have died because of me. . Because I couldn't stop him. Why me? Why am I so special?   
  
     I wish the tears would just go. That they'd leave me alone. Along with the rest of the damn world. . Even Ron and Hermione. Can't they see that I'm trying to protect them? They didn't seem to mind it so much when Dumbledore kept things from me. . Now they know how I feel. How I _used_ to feel.   
  
     I feel. . Nothing. I don't feel happiness. . I don't feel Pain. . I don't feel sadness. All I feel is. . Nothing. I'm all alone.   
  
     I wish they could see that their wrong. That I'm _not_ the hero everyone thinks I am. I'm just taking it all one step at a time, just like they are. Did they ever think that I'm better at holding it all in because of the simple fact that I don't feel it?   
  
     My tears are empty. I'm empty. I'm Alone. I'm not the hero they think I am. Can't they see I'm just a myth? 


	2. Cursed old

**Hero? Or Myth?**

  
  
  
Chapter Two:   
_ .Cursed_   
  
  
_    I hate it. I hate waking in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat. . And fear.   
  
    Its always the same. . First comes Darkness. Then comes that scent. . It smells so familiar yet so alien. . .   
  
    Why can't I remember it? I can remember the journey -- the darkness, the smells, the blood, the agony, yet I cannot remember the outcome. Why?   
  
    Sometimes it makes me want to scream . . But if I know one thing, its that Malfoy's don't scream. Or cry. Or feel -- Or love. I was taught all of these things, all of my life! How can I ever forget those lessons? How can I ever make my own decisions. .? I don't want to be ruled. Wasn't it he that said, "Malfoy's don't serve, they rule,"? Yet he was just another willing pawn of you-know-who's.   
  
    I don't miss him. He's my father, yet I don't miss him. . I'm almost, what's the word. . Happy?   
  
    No. I can't be happy. Malfoys don't feel happiness. . They only feel power. Greed. Hate.   
  
    What's wrong with me? Why couldn't I have been born into a different family, one that cared? Would things of been different?. . .   
  
    So many questions, yet no answers.   
  
    I feel like I'm being torn apart.   
  
    I watch my mother cower in her room -- in their room, and wait for him. She believes he's coming back. She's afraid that he's coming back. I wish I was afraid. I wish I was happy. I wish I was anything but this!   
  
    Yet at the same time, I already am afraid. I'm afraid to feel. .   
  
    I hide behind my façade and try to act as if nothing is wrong. But how much longer can I keep up the walls? Is that the only thing he has taught me? The only thing that I know? Once again, so many questions, yet no answers.   
  
    It hurts knowing that I am plagued with my past, screwed by my present, and cursed by my future. I can't help but wonder what will happen to me. . I know I am to return to Hogwarts. Destined to be frowned and pitied by my acquaintances, hated by my enemies. . it's the same as always in a morbid, twisted way. Regardless I cannot help but to wonder what will happen to me.   
  
    I don't think I'm going to be able to make it. He haunted me before, and continues to -- even though he's gone.   
  
    I only now realize what he's done. . He's cursed me.   
  
    My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, and I am **cursed.** For I am a Malfoy. . And I am not living but dead. . . 
_   
  
  
  
     After bolding the word "cursed," with his quill, Draco whispered something to the journal. Magically, the words faded until no trace of his neat scrawl could be found. Draco closed it and checked if the buckle was secure. He traced a finger around the delicate embroidery of the dragon's body and did something very unmalfoyish as the dragon curved to his touch; he smiled.   
  
     Every now and then Draco felt sort of girlish for keeping a journal but at the same time he was thankful to have it. He knew that it was one of the only things that kept him sane over the summer. Draco sighed and set his journal down.   
  
     Draco drummed his fingers dully on his polished oak desk. He turned in his seat and looked around his room with a dull interest. His walls were painted dark blue, almost black with a border of dark gray stars along the bottom. A black velvet comforter was draped over his four poster bed, the deep gray curtains spread wide. Red oak shelves aligned his bedroom, where he had neatly stacked his potion supplies. In the corner of the tidy room, stood a stone fireplace. On the mantle sat a polished wooden box. Perhaps the only personal item he had in his whole room. . .   
  
     Suddenly, his mother could be heard calling for him from downstairs. Draco sighed and thought to himself gloomily. Draco carefully placed his journal in one of the drawers in his desk and grabbed his wand from it. His mother yelled again from downstairs.   
  
     Draco Mumbled to himself, "Its not like Diagon alley is going anywhere. ." and lazily pointed his wand at the desk. After saying the incantation to secure a lock, Draco stood. With a swish of his cloak, he descended downstairs.   
  


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** Author's Note:** I hope that chapter was alright, it took me a surprisingly long time to write. Draco's point of view was actually quite easy, it was just the fact that I couldn't think how to add onto that to make the chapter longer than the last like I promised. I know it wasn't much longer but I really do hope to get longer chapters soon, though I have a feeling the next will be mildly short. It depends if I do it from Harry's point of view again or not. . I hope to have the next chapter up in a few days! Five more reviews would be deeply appreciated though. .   
  


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Thank You's. . .   
  
--Angel _Thanks. ._   
--Willow _Thanks for Suggestion (and review,)!_   
--Goldengirl2 _Thanks. ._   
--KittenBabyGirl _Aw. . :=( Thanks for reviewing._   
--kamui _Here ya go, Thanks!_


	3. Cursed new

**Hero? Or Myth?**

  
  
  
Chapter Two -- Newest Version:   
_ .Cursed_   
  
  
_ Ever sense he left. . Things have been so different. Mother hides in her room most of the time. She's waiting for him to return. I can tell she's afraid.   
  
If my father ever heard me admit this he'd kill me -- but. . I'm afraid to. Every night I awake drenched in sweat and I feel like I'm being suffocated by my fear. I try to keep up this façade during the presence of others but its getting harder and harder every day.   
  
I feel like I'm a little kid again. I only wish my mother was here to protect me like she was when I was younger. Before he drove her mad. . I remember when I'd awake in the middle of the night screaming, how she'd hold me until I was safe. I can even remember the song. .   
  
"Hush my little Dragon.   
All is all right,   
The stars look down on you,   
In the darkness of the night.   
Let the silence surround you   
And hold you tight.   
Hush my little Dragon.   
All is right. ."   
  
Talk about pathetic. .   
  
Malfoy's never dwell on the past. . But what happens when that's all I have? And even that was messed up. It hurts knowing that I'm plagued with my past, screwed by my present, and cursed by my future.   
  
No matter what decision I make I'm doomed. I can't become a 'loyal' follower for that ugly git. . I hate him almost as much as I do my father right now. But I can't not become one either. I don't know how, but I know if I don't. . .   
  
I long for someone to tell me its alright, that he won't be coming back. I long for someone to love me like my mother once did. . For someone for me to love back. . .   
  
God, listen to me. I need to stay strong. Malfoy's don't feel. . We're not allowed to. I'm not allowed to. If there's anyone I need to stay strong for, it's my mother. I wish I didn't have to keep up the façade when she's near. I hate to admit it, but sometimes I wish I was born into a different family. One where I wasn't doomed by my last name -- One that cared.   
  
I HATE THIS! I hate these feelings trapped inside me and worse yet, I hate what I've become. I'm weak. All of his lessons were wasted. .   
  
I can't help but to think what will happen once I return to Hogwarts. Will I be able to keep up the wall's I've so carefully built around myself?   
  
I don't think I'm going to be able to make it. He haunted me before, and continues to -- even though he's gone.   
  
I only now realize what he's done. . He's cursed me.   
  
My name is Draco Lucius Malfoy, and I am **cursed.** For I am a Malfoy. . And I am not living but dead. . . _   
  
  
  
     After bolding the word "cursed," with his quill, Draco whispered something to the journal. Magically, the words faded until no trace of his neat scrawl could be found. Draco closed it and checked if the buckle was secure. He traced a finger around the delicate embroidery of the dragon's body and did something very unmalfoyish as the dragon curved to his touch; he smiled.   
  
     Every now and then Draco felt sort of girlish for keeping a journal but at the same time he was thankful to have it. He knew that it was one of the only things that kept him sane over the summer. The tune of the bedtime song his mother used to sing to him flashed through his mind once more, causing him to scowl. If it hadn't been for him maybe she'd be better now. . Maybe she'd be better. .   
  
     Draco sighed and set his journal down.   
  
     He drummed his fingers dully on his polished oak desk. He turned in his seat and looked around his room with a dull interest. His walls were painted dark blue, almost black with a border of dark gray stars along the bottom. A black velvet comforter was draped over his four poster bed, the deep gray curtains spread wide. Red oak shelves aligned his bedroom, where he had neatly stacked his potion supplies. In the corner of the tidy room, stood a stone fireplace. On the mantle sat a polished wooden box. Perhaps the only personal item he had in his whole room. . .   
  
     Suddenly, his mother could be heard calling for him from downstairs. Draco sighed and thought to himself gloomily. Draco carefully placed his journal in one of the drawers in his desk and grabbed his wand from it. His mother yelled again from downstairs.   
  
     Draco Mumbled to himself, "Its not like Diagon alley is going anywhere. ." and lazily pointed his wand at the desk. After saying the incantation to secure a lock, Draco stood. With a swish of his cloak, he descended downstairs.   
  


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** Author's Note:** WALLA! *Bows,* I hope you like this version of it better then the last. However, for the time being I'm keeping both up. Considering I know atleast _one_ person enjoyed it. . Anyway, review if you **EVER** want me to continue! 5 new reviews before I'll post the next chapter. .   
  


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And a special Thank You to. . .   
  
--bluebutterfly9, _For actually reviewing on the other version! THANK YOU!_


	4. A Truly Classic Exit

Hero? Or Myth?

  
  
**Chapter Three:**  
_.A truly Classic Exit_   
  
     Draco Malfoy was now standing outside of Gringotts. His mother excused herself to go to knockturn alley while he shopped for school supplies.   
  
     Draco cast a look around Diagon alley before he headed to the local bookstore. He with drew the list of supplies he'd need from his pocket and glanced down it once. It was normal enough. His eyes stopped short at the two books he'd need to pick up for Defense of the Dark Arts.   
  
     _I wonder who's going to be the new D.A teacher. . _ Thought Draco. He strode into the nearest bookstore and was in the middle of looking at "Advanced Potion," books when he noticed the new arrivals.   
  
     He could have told it was them a mile away. Draco seriously was beginning to doubt that _anyone_ had hair like the weasel. He pretended to be looking for his Potion's book while he stole glances at the famous Gryffindor trio.   
  
     Harry moved closer to Hermione and whispered something in her ear that caused her to laugh. Ron began blushing three shades red, and Harry said something to him that Draco couldn't quite hear. He saw Hermione's eyes scan the bookstore and made eye contact with her accidentally. Her eyes widened and she cleared her throat nervously to get her friends attention. "Ahem. . "   
  
     Draco quickly turned and became very fascinated with a book named, _How to Degnome Your Garden._ Someone cleared their throat behind Draco and he turned, but only after plastering the famous Malfoy smirk on his face.   
  
     "Hi Malfoy." Said Hermione. Ginny Weasely, who was also with the trio, suddenly broke out in a fit of giggles.   
  
     Ron rolled his eyes and quickly came up with a witty remark at Draco's expense to make up for his sister's embarrassing behavior. "Spying huh Malfoy? What, are you jealous to see what a _REAL_ friendship looks like?"   
  
     Draco looked down at Ron and Hermione's entwined fingers and smiled nastily. "Is that what you call it? I thought you were having one big orgy." He could have almost swore, Harry hid a smile.   
  
     Ron gripped Hermione's hand tighter and spoke through clenched teeth, "Shut it Malfoy."   
  
     "Oh, what a _brilliant_ come back Weasel," Said Malfoy with fake amazement. "Maybe you should borrow some intelligence from that mudblood girlfriend of yours next time."   
  
     If at all possible, Ron blushed harder. He almost immediately dropped Hermione's hand and went for his wand. However, Harry held his arm down and stepped in front of him.   
  
     "So Malfoy, How's your father?" Said Harry coolly, his eyes twinkling much like Dumbledore's.   
  
     Draco scowled and stared at Harry hatefully, who stared right back.   
  
     For the first time in a long while, Draco found himself at a loss for words. Willing himself to break eye contact, Draco turned.   
  
     Suddenly, everything seemed to be going in slow motion as a elderly witch bumped into Draco quite rudely with a cart of books she was shelving, causing him to step back into a nearby "'Tween Light or Darkness," special. The Books collapsed to the floor, half burying Draco underneath them. The books that were addressed light, immediately started glowing a bright yellow, warming Draco with their heat. The ones addressed darkness however, had a very different response at being knocked over. They began to shake violently, the vines on their spiny texture growing until the heat that was radiating off of them was burning Draco.   
  
     The elderly witch put her hand to her mouth and gasped, apologizing repeatedly.   
  
     From one face to another, Draco looked to the four Gryffindors and scowled. Ron and Ginny looked like they were going to die from laughter. Hermione was biting her bottom lip trying to stop herself from laughing, and Harry was just _staring_. Draco stared in wonder for a moment, trying to decipher any emotions from his face only to fail miserably.   
  
     Urging himself not to die from mere humiliation, Draco hurriedly pushed the books from his lap and stood. He dusted himself off, dodging just in time before the elderly women tried to help.   
  
     "No. . That's okay. . I Uh. . Bye."   
  
     It may have not been the most classic Malfoy exit, but Draco was sure they'd remember it none the less as Draco pushed his way past the four gryffindors and out the shop door. When successfully out of view, Draco ducked into a nearby alley. A large gray rat scurried past Draco's foot and he leaned against a nearby wall.   
  
     Draco's cloak stuck to the slimy texture of the bricks and a familiar scent flooded his nostrils. He was in knockturn alley. He stepped away from the wall and smoothed his hair before going in search for his mother. He'd finish his shopping another day.   
  
     His last fleeting thought was, _This is going to be a long year. ._   
  
  


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**Author's Note:** Quite obviously, I'm posting before 5 people review. . Oh well. Review if you like this chapter and want me to continue. (I will try to finish this FF among other ones someday. . Hopefully someday soon. ^.^)   
  


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Thank You's. .   
--bluebutterfly9 _Thanks. Well, This one is a new chapter so! Hope you like._   
--Usually Immaculate Aristocrat _Thanks for both reviews. I would hope, I could try capturing both Draco's in future chapters. (Like, hopefully I can describe how he feels about his family life, and show he's only human after all at the same time.)_   
--The Happy One _Thanks! Hope ya like this chappy. ._


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Harry Potter, Angst, Romance