Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It says on the books, "J. K. Rowling." You see, this "J. K. Rowling" is an actual person… the person who wrote Harry Potter. Got it? Ok. Moving on now…
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sweet suicide
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"conversations"
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Knock. Knock."What are you doing? You've been in there for about thirty minutes."
"I'm not doing anything. Don't worry."
Pause.
"I wasn't worrying, but I am know. Draco, what the hell is going on?"
"Nothing. I'm fine, Blaise. Just… go down to breakfast. I'll be there later."
"… Are you sure?"
"Positive."
"Okay, but you're going to go to breakfast. Got it?"
Another pause.
"Draco?"
"Yeah, yeah. I got it, Blaise."
"Okay, then…"
"Hey Blaise?
"What?"
"Don't give in, ok? Don't give in."
"…give in to what?"
"You'll know when the time comes. Just promise me that you won't submit to them, okay?"
"Submit to whom? Damnit, Draco, what the hell is going on?"
Nothing.
"Draco!"
Pounding on wood.
"Blaise. Stop that. You're giving me a headache. Just promise."
"Promise what?"
"That you'll be stronger."
Silence.
"Blaise? Promise me!"
"Okay, okay…"
"Say it!"
A sigh.
"Alright, I promise. Happy?"
"Very."
"Now go to breakfast, Blaise. I'll be there later."
"… just don't take too long. Your hair's always perfect, anyway."
A chuckle.
"Yeah, I know, Blaise. I just need some thinking time."
"Alright… but if you're not downstairs by the time breakfast ends, I'm going to come storming back up here, you got it?"
"What ever you say."
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"Where's Draco?"
"He's locked himself in the bathroom, Pansy."
"In the bathroom?"
"Yeah."
Pause.
"Odd. He's usually the first one down for breakfast."
"Yeah. He's been acting strange lately, hasn't he?"
"Yeah…"
"Pansy?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think something's the matter with Draco? Oh, for Merlin's sake Pansy, put down the spoon before you try to answer me!"
"Fine, fine. No need to bite my head off, Zabini."
"What time is it?"
"I don't know. Ask Theodore."
Someone shifts in their seat creating a creaking sound.
"Hey, Ted, d'you know the time?"
"Around seven forty-five. Why?"
"Just wondering how many more minutes before class starts."
"Ah… wondering if you have enough time to finish some last minute homework?"
"Actually, no. I was wondering how long Draco has before I go up and blow the bathroom door down."
"Ah… well, I'd say around fifteen more minutes."
An uncomfortable silence descends upon the Slytherin table before shuffling noises are heard. Students begin to head to class.
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"Ms. Bulstrode. Where, may I ask, is Mr. Malfoy?"
"I'm not sure, sir. Maybe Blaise knows."
"Mr. Zabini?"
"Oh, Draco wasn't feeling all that well this morning, Professor Snape, so he stayed behind for a little while until he feels better."
"Very well. The instructions are on the board along with a list of ingredients you'll need. You'll have exactly an hour and a half to finish. Begin, now."
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"Time's up. Bottle up some of your potion and bring it up for a grade."
Tinkling noise.
"I'm sorry, Potter. My hand must have slipped…"
Mumbling.
"Ten points from Gryffindor."
"What! That's not fair!"
"Detention. Saturday night at eight. Do not be late."
Pause.
"Yes, sir."
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"Something's not right."
"You're being paranoid, Blaise. Everything's fine."
"No. Seriously, Daphne. Something feels… off."
"I agree with Daphne, Blaise."
"Don't tell me that you don't feel as if something is off, Tracey."
"I don't know, Blaise…"
"Fine. I'm going to check on Draco, though. He didn't come down, even though I specifically told him to get his arse down here when breakfast ended."
"I'll come with you."
"Why?"
"Because I just realized I left my Charms book on the common room table."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Like the girls said, paranoid."
"Shut up, Theodore."
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"Did you get your book?"
"Yeah."
"Good, now let's head upstairs."
"Alright, then…"
Two sets of footsteps.
"So… what do you suppose Draco's doing?"
"Don't know. Don't care. He's dead meat when I find him."
"Angry, Zabini?"
"Shut it, Nott… or else."
"Ohhh… how scary!"
Flesh hitting flesh.
"Bloody hell, what was that for?"
"For being an annoying brat, you idiot."
"I'm older than you. You're the brat, in my opinion."
"Well, who the hell cares about your opinion?"
"You do."
"Me?"
"Yes. You. you're the one making a fuss over what I said."
"…"
"Yep, I've won again, Zabini. Two points for Theodore, and one for Blaise. Having fun yet?"
Door opening. Then swearing.
"Nott, why did you stop walking? Damn, my foot!"
Pause.
"…Theodore?"
Sounds of someone being shoved.
Then a horrible scream that shattered the silence, piercing through the heart's and soul's of those who heard it.
Author's Note: Hm… things are getting started.
Ignore any possible errors you found.
Next chapter will be written "normally."
Thanks for reading!