"Sectumsempra!"
Draco felt the spell hit him, knocking him back off his feet. He felt the deep gashes cut into him, blood soaking through his white school shirt. Harry's fotsteps echoed through the empty washroom and pounded into Draco's ears.
"Finally," Draco thought, "I'll finally be able to get out of this hellhole." Just before he drifted out of consciousness, he saw Snape take out his wand and drag it across his bare chest. Draco's eyes drifted closed.
----
Draco woke up in the hospital wing that evening. The only sound he heard was Mrs. Norris skulking around a corridor the floor below. He lifted the sheets, exposing the thick, tinged red bandage wrapping around his stomach. Slowly, he moved his hand to touch the remnants of his near death experience. They stung slightly. "Damnit Snape!" He quietly muttered under his breath. If Snape hadn't come and healed his wounds, then he might not be lying there, staring up at the ceiling he never wanted to be under again.
Carefully, he got out of bed and walked over to Madam Pomphrey's medicine cabinet. He hoped it wasn't locked and, to his good fortune, it wasn't. He rifled through the many jars and bottles, occasionally looking over his shoulder towards Pomphrey's door. Nothing. He grabbed 4 purple vials labled "Sleeping Draught" in Pomphrey's twisted writing. Grasping his wand, he left the wing.
The castle was eerily quiet. He heard every soft step he made echo, raising the feeling of getting caught in his mind. Much to his relief, he had made it Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He opened the door, hoping she wasn't in there. After he'd made sure she wasn't, he walked over to one of the sinks. Staring at himself in the mirror, he realised just how pale he was. Sunken eyes and cheeks. His usually slicked back hair running wild. A clear, shiny tear rolled down his cheek. He knew that what he was about to do would be the right thing.
Drawing the cork out of the bottles, he downed two all in one swallow. Almost immediatly he felt it kick in. He coudn't stand anymore; he fell to the , he picked up his wand and whispered "Sectumsempra." The spell neatly hit one of the mirrors and rebounded back at him, getting him square in the chest. He felt the immediate pain of the spell, reopening his previous wounds. Using his remaining strenght, he lifted the other 2 vials to his mouth and poured the liquid in. The mirror had shattered and he heard the distant running of feet. He was quickly slipping away, his eyelids becoming increasinly heavy. He heard an angelicly soft tinkling noise the knew was entirely in his mind and his eyes drifted closed for the final time.