JULY 29
DRACO POV:
I don't know why I bother anymore...there's no point. He hates me more than he hated Voldemort at this point. Although, there's always hope...he did save my life at the end of seventh year. What is there if not hope? Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of those people who keeps on hoping someone will let them in, even after they've had the door slammed in their face. But...maybe it could still happen. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm dillusional. But what is life but the dillusion of a possible fate other than death? He yells at me, he sends spells, curses, and hexes my way every chance he gets...and yet... All the time I forgive that which remains unsaid...forget that which has been undone...and wonder why... Why does this life condemn my misery? Why does your memory thrive on my pain? Shit. I sound fucking emo. God, just look at me. I am fucking emo. I suppose I really should buy more longsleeve robes. Father's going to get suspicious. Agh, why can't I just die? I should just die. But...I want to see him one last time. Even if he doesn't want to have anything to do with me, I want to see him one last time before I die. His party! He's still having his huge 18th birthday party celebration on July 31st. That's only two days away! I think that's a good birthday present, for your worst enemy to kill themselves on your birthday. Right?
ANYONE POV:
Draco Malfoy was depressed. He had come to terms with his feelings for The Boy Who Lived and Lived Again. Nothing could ever come of those feelings, or so he believed. This had led him to start cutting in a desperate attempt to rid himself of the pain in his heart. It was July 29 and Draco Malfoy, former Slytherin Prince, had decided to commit suicide. What was the world coming to?