AN: This story is very personal to me. The idea was borrowed from a story by . Just a one-shot, that could aid that story, I suppose.

The Easy Way Out

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I know what you would say; what you would think. . . We took the easy way out. What you don't know is that it was the hardest thing we've ever had to do. And we did have to do it. There was no other way.

Son. This was not our easy way out. It was our only way out.

The final thing we had to do, like everything else, without you.

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Everybody in the wizarding world was celebrating. The war was over! Their lives could finally go on. But on the second floor of a beautiful Manor, two blond purebloods were not celebrating. Ruined.

Their last act, their final journey; the one that would spare them the shame! Because the shame that follows suicide cannot be felt; not by those who commit it, anyway. Death was better.

He found them. Mum and Dad, in each other's arms, heads resting on each other's shoulders, their bodies locked in a loose embrace, their limp arms falling to their sides. Fingers entwined.

Something was wrong. Why were his parents suspended in the air? Their feet dangled a foot away from the grandiose oaken desk that they'd obviously stood on to tie the ropes. That they'd obviously stepped off, with the ropes around their necks.

Draco had backed away, slowly, silently, pulling the heavy door of the study closed. They hadn't even locked it. They hadn't left a note. No consideration for the son they left behind, alone. The way he'd always been.

The image was burned into his memory, never to leave his subconscious. When he was in the shower, he'd suddenly see it. When he was eating his dinner, the image would resurface. When he lay in bed at night, staring at the ceiling, he would see them, twirling slowly as if in some sick twisted dance.

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What we did – the way we freed ourselves – was many things, son. But it was not easy.

We now what you would say: We loved you. . . But we loved ourselves more.

The truth, Draco, is something you'll never know. If only I had the courage to be the father I should have.

And now, all you'll see when you think of us, the ones that gave you life, is an image of your parents hanging from the rafters.

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AN: I hope that it was clear that the first and last sections were the POV of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. I borrowed the "suicide-by-hanging-in-the-study" thing. If it's a problem, , I'll take it down. Thanks for reading!