The Blood on His Hands

Warning: Strong dealings with sucide throughout this entire story. You've been accurately warned.

Disclaimer: I only own the plot and any characters that may appear later which are not from the books. Everything else is property of the author of the Harry Potter series, J.K. Rowling. I mean no offence in the writing of this story.

Prologue

He stared down at the blood on his hands. He should've seen this happening. All the signs had been there, pointing to this moment in time.

The depression, the appearance of scars that had no believable explanation, everything. How could she do this to herself? What had gone so wrong along the line?

Sure, they had had a few problems. They had been faced with a lot of things that couples their age just were not supposed to go through. Sure, there had been times where no end was in sight, so she had said she was going to create one for them. He had figured she meant fixing the problem. Not this. Never this. She had been a happy girl for so long.

There were so many events that would indicate this end. So many things that he should've seen as a blatant call for help. How was someone supposed to convince themselves that not only was their girlfriend suicidal, but their best friend?

God, why? He knew he should be crying, but nothing. Not even the smallest tear. His heart had been torn out of his chest, his insides were slowing being torn apart, and yet, not a solitary drop of salt water would form itself.

The love of his life, whom he had fought so hard to keep close, was just beyond his reach now, and would stay there forever it seemed.

Forever. How was he supposed to last that long? Please Lord, don't mke me last that long. He has been pleading with every god in the universe since he found her in this state. No pulse, surrounded by thick red liquid, nothing bleeding out.

If only he hadn't gone to dinner tonight, than maybe, she would still be at his side. Maybe, just maybe, if he had said no to that last drik, he would've gotten here in time to save her. Maybe if he had never befriended her at all, she would still be alive.

She had saved him from certain death, why couldn't she have given him a chance to save her? He should run and get someone. Someone who could take her away and clean her up. Maybe get her dressed and ready for the funeral that would be soon. The funeral that he would be forced to prepare, because there was no one else.

How could she? He wanted to throw things, yell, scream, anything. Anything that would release this indescribable emotion that was building in his chest. It wasn't love, for you needed a heart for that. His heart was gone.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. He stared at the pocket, not reaching for it. She had gotten it for him when they moved here, saying she wanted to always have a way to contact him. So much help that had been.

The home phone screeched in the background somewhere. Than her cell phone started singing their song. He gazed at it and the pad of paper underneath. A few simple words "I'm so sorry babe. I love you". That was it. Nothing more to explain why, what had led to this final decision.

He felt…...betrayed. Scared. Hell, he didn't know what he felt. What was he supposed to feel? Was there a certain way to react to this? What there some kind of protocol which he didn't know about?

Someone was banding on the door now, trying to gain entrance. Just go away, he pleaded silently. Just leave me her to die by her side so I don't have to live without her. Leave forever and please never return.

They never heard. He heard the tell tale "pop", informing him that someone was invading his privacy. He looked at the time. He had been sitting here for 5 hours, at her side, hoping she would come back. He knew that she wouldn't, but he wanted her to so badly, that he had hoped and prayed she would.

His name was being called through the house. Demanding that he answer their questions about why they had never shown today. Today. There was something special about today. He couldn't remember what, but whatever it was, someone was pissed off that they didn't come.

A scream came from directly behind him, and hand was placed on his shoulder. Someone was invading his space. He shook his head. Go away. Just leave me be with my love.

"Draco, have you been here all night?"

He looked up at the intruder. He had had dinner with these two just the night before. It was their fault he hadn't been here. Her fault that he had gone, pushing him out the door, telling him she felt ill.

This was his fault. It had to be. There was no other explanation. She wouldn't have done this for anything or anyone else. She wouldn't have left him unless he had done something completely detrimental to their relationship.

His eyes fell back to his hands. Oh yeah, it was someone 3 year anniversary today. There been a huge breakfast this morning, everyone celebrating the news that a baby would be born in a few months.

She would've loved to see that child. He knew that for sure. She had lost one of her best friends and two f his brothers, members of her own family, she would've like to see the line starting to be replenished.

If only he had stopped this from coming to a head somehow. If only he had had one less fight with her. Bugged her about one less thing. Done something differently. She would still be here beside him.

20/20 hindsight really was an amazing thing.