A/N: This is very different type of story for me. I hope it's somewhat good and not all crap :)

Prologue

Even years later Harry was unsure of what had happened. The shock still lived in them all long after Draco Malfoy's suicide. True he was never close with the kid. They were in fact, enemies. But a part of his heart ripped in stunned shock when he had learned the news. Dumbledore had pulled them all into a group in the main hall. The first and only time that had happened was after Cedric Diggory's death. In a dignified manner he unfolded the news gently, like a band aid running over water before ripping it off.

When he spoke those immortal words "Our very own student, Draco Malfoy, had committed suicide last night," the color on everyone's face changed to tinted white. Even Ron was at loss of intelligent conversation, and he seemingly hated Draco more than Harry did.

Guilt consumed him. He had never really given Malfoy a chance, did he? A wrong vibe at the store when Harry first met him and Harry had condemned him to life as a mortal enemy. Was he really so sure of himself that he convinced himself, and his friends, that Draco was a one layered person? What you see is what you get. Though, to be fair, he argued to himself, Malfoy didn't give much reason to doubt Harry's conviction of him. After all, how many times had Draco belittled Ron and Hermione in front of Harry? And when Harry wasn't there? Too many to count. But did that mean that he deserved this fate?

Silence reigned the hallways after the announcement. The whole student body was a unity of shock. The houses were temporarily united for the most unexpected reason.

"You hear about this type of stuff," sighed Hermione as they lingered out in the courtyard. "But you never expect to happen to anyone you know."

"I don't get it," Ron said, clearing his own head of exploding thoughts out loud. "Draco seemed happy. Well, what qualifies as happy for Malfoy that is. He didn't seem the suicidal type, that's for sure."

Harry said nothing, his mind a trance since Dumbledore spoke that infamous and unexpected sentence. Truth was, he wasn't paying much attention to Draco these days to notice, or more bluntly; to care, about his happiness. What made Malfoy happy was to make others miserable. But did Harry bother to investigate the source of that reasoning? No, he had just assumed that Draco was naturally born evil. But he wasn't really evil. Voldemort was evil, but not Malfoy. Deep down Harry knew that. Everyone, even Ron, knew that also.

He decided to eavesdrop on the factuality.

"Jus' don't believe it," Hagrid was saying when he inched towards that selective group. "Didn' think that he was that type o' kid."

"None of us did, Hagrid," McGonagall sighed.

"I knew he was an unhappy soul," Dumbledore informed them. "But I didn't think it would be this extreme."

"Do you know, Albus, why he did this?" McGongall asked.

"I know he and his father were in a middle of a feud. The feud had lasted their entire life, though. The strain on their relationship could have some part of it to play."

"My brightest student," Snape muttered. For the first time Snape looked honestly...sad. The image was so shocking to Harry that he zoomed up to Severus's face, focusing on his eyes alone; trying to fixate that image of true regret, remorse, and sadness in his memory forever. He was sure he wouldn't see such an honest and heartfelt expression on Snape again for a long, long time. If ever.

"When are they taking him away?" Snape had asked the headmaster.

"Tomorrow," the headmaster supplied the information with a quick response. Harry was stunned to learn that Draco's body was still at Hogwarts.

The idea throbbed at his head, and at his chest,making it difficult to breathe. He knew what he had to do. He had to find Malfoy's penseive, extract it from his skull, if that was possible, and examine the dark memory that was the daily routined life of Draco Malfoy.

He was sure it was in the infirmary. Where else could they keep a body? Then again, Hogwarts had many hidden passageways and doors that he was only beginning to decipher. But he decided to try the infirmary. Harry was surprised to see no one there. He saw a curtain surrounding the bed. He gulped, knowing what he would fine; Unsure if he wanted to. But he knew that he had to.

He braced himself as he pulled back the curtains. A blanket over a body greeted his face. He stared at a box next to him. He was surprised to find that it looked like a penseive box. Surprised and relieved. Were all memories removed when you died? What was left that made you, well you than? Pushing those philosophical thoughts aside he knew he had to see Draco's face one more time. Taking a deep breath he pulled back the blanket. There staring at him was an even paler than normal Draco Malfoy. His eyes were closed, his face peaceful looking. Harry than took the blanket totally off and saw the slit wrists. So primitive, and yet; so affective.

"I'm sorry Draco," he whispered. "I'm sorry we hated each other so much you couldn't talk to me. See me for help. I'm sorry you got so lost, with no friend to turn to."

Slowly and respectfully he approached the box than, determined to find out why exactly Draco Mafloy decided to end his life at such an early age. Slowly he opened it and found himself thrusted into a hopeless dark place that he didn't want to visit, but he knew he had to. To truly understand why his so called mortal enemy decided that life wasn't worth living any more...

Should I continue? Yes? No?