It's funny how you don't know you're falling until you hit the ground. Draco jumped and fell into the arms of the dark. [Angst]

Disclaimer: Damn, you caught me, I am in fact J.K Rowling.

Warnings: Suicide, bad writing, slight ooc-ness.

A/N: This is a 'spur of the moment' kind of one-shot. My sister was playing a real depressing song, I was scrolling through a depressing part of fanfiction, and suddenly this was born. Short, and lame, but I hope you enjoy!


Why was he up here? Looking towards the forest, occasionally sparing a glance down, towards the ground that was so far away. He took another swig of his Firewhisky that he held protectively in his pale hands.

Draco was thinking of jumping.

Who did he have that would cry for him? Narcissa was so busy with something new everyday, Lucius didn't care, he had no real friends, unless he counts Blaise and Pansy. But where were they? Why did they let him face this burden alone? They knew about his task, yet they let him go about it alone. No, they won't cry. They don't care. No one does.

The darkness around him was slowly being chased away by the suns rays, and Draco though he should let go, now. At least he'll have the comforting darkness to wait for him, embrace him, as he falls.

Why was his hands shaking? He wasn't scared. No, he wasn't..

Who was he kidding? He was fucking terrified. No one would be able to see the fear in his eyes, though, they'd just see the smile on his mangled body whenever they find him at the bottom of the tower.

Draco didn't notice his tight grasp on the metal beam loosen, all he noticed was his bottle falling, being engulfed by the darkness. The darkness would catch him, and take care of him. It always had been his friend. His one and only true friend. He smiled, and let go. Closing his eyes, trying not to wince as the wind cut at his pale skin. He felt like he was flying, about to lift off and leave all his pain and worry behind.

The Slytherin cracked open his stormy grey eyes, and saw the darkness come up to met him. He fell gladly into it's arms, all his insecurities just slipping away.

Then he hit the ground, and ceased to live.


It was awfully quiet in the Great Hall. No one spoke, and the dying twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes was no longer present. The only sounds were some Slytherin's laboured breathing, and Pansy's hysterical sobs as she was escorted out by Daphne and Blaise..

Another victim claimed by the Dark. Another one that jumped. Another one that fell.