A/N: Kind of just randomly had a good idea for a story while watching the sixth movie and had to write it down. Now it's here for everyone to see. Hope you enjoy. WARNINGS for mentions of suicide, cutting, possible triggers. i'm going to try and make this more than a one-shot, but for now that's what it shall be.
Draco paced back and forth in front of the mirrors in the girl's bathroom. Anyone passing the door could hear him muttering the words 'What am I going to do?' over and over again until the words made no sense.
Draco's mind was a complete blur, no thought staying in one spot, no idea understandable. He was close to tears, digging his short fingernails into his palms. Myrtle wasn't there, which he couldn't decide whether that was good or bad. She was the only one he had ever told about his mission, both good and bad.
Finally he couldn't stand to take another step. He collapsed against the nearest wall, not even attempting to stay upright.
He didn't mean to hurt anybody. He clearly wasn't cut out for this mission. He couldn't do it. He just couldn't. Now Katie was hurt, Weasley was hurt (not that he cared). No he did care. Not for the Weasel, but the fact that Slughorn could've given that drink to anybody. ANYBODY.
He felt his gut clench and almost gagged. He stood and walked to a sink, just in case.
Why did this happen to him? He couldn't do this. How could he kill Dumbledore?
He was suddenly angry. Angry at his father. Angry at his whole pureblood family. Angry at V... the Dark Lord. Just so angry.
"Damn it!" His fist smashed the mirror over the sink, shattering the glass. And his fist.
"Fuck!" He cradled his hand, drawing his wand, healing it with a wave. He moved to repair the mirror, but his eye was caught by a shard lying in the sink.
You could see how razor sharp it was. It was large enough to fit in Draco's hand perfectly.
'I could end it all right now,' He thought. 'It would be so easy, so quick. And it would all be over.'
Meanwhile, Hermione was pacing the Gryffindor common room trying to ignore Harry and Ron. They were reading the stupid book yet again.
She sat down in a plushy armchair and opened her arithmancy textbook and set about working out some of the sample questions in the next chapter.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Harry check behind his shoulder to confirm they were alone and pull out his map. He spoke the incantation and spent a few minutes searching through the map, earning a wary look from Ron.
Suddenly Harry jumped up and said "Hey, I'm going for a walk. I'll be back later."
"Harry!" Hermione shouted, stopping him in his tracks. "You can't keep stalking Malfoy. You are just going to get yourself into trouble."
"'Mione, you won't believe he's a deatheater without proof, so that's what I'm doing, getting proof!"
"You are never going to get it if you keep doing this. Look Harry, You can't devote your every waking hour to trying to catch Malfoy in the act. It's creepy. I know you feel the need to be the hero in every aspect of life, and not just your life, but you need to let go sometimes, let someone else do the work."
"Fine, I'll send Ron to find out what he's doing!" Harry forced himself not to shout at his best friend.
"Sorry mate, I'm not so sure I wanna do that." Ron muttered, busying himself with a pile of chocolate frog cards.
Letting out a sigh of frustration Hermione whispered "Where is he, Harry?"
"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. He goes there alot, but Myrtle is in the Prefect's bathroom right now."
"Give me your cloak. I can go there and back in half an hour. And if I don't find anything, if he's just sitting there trying to get away from everybody else, minding his own business, you will leave him alone for the rest of the year. Deal?"
"Deal," Hary said smiling. He pulled his cloak out of his bag where it was waiting ready for action.
As he gave her the cloak, he pulled her into a hug. "Thanks," He whispered.
"Only for you," she told her best friend.
She spun and walked out of the common room, donning the cloak the moment the door closed. She would look in on Malfoy for a few second, and then look at that book in the restricted section Mcgonagall refuse to write her a slip to see.
She hurried down the stairs, taking a short cut that took her just a few feet short of the bathroom.
Draco hesitantly picked up the mirror shard. He put his finger to the tip, which cut the skin like butter, a drop of blood sliding down. He then placed the glass to his wrist.
The panick overtook him like a tidal wave. He was scared, but also curiously intrigued about what lay on the other side.
He was unable to fight back the sobs anymore. The tears leaked down his cheeks. He cried for a bit before he realized he had relaxed his arm.
He again raised the glass to his wrist when he heard a gasp from behind. He spun around, dropping the glass. It shattered like the mirror. There was nothing. 'Shit.'
"Potter! Won't you leave me alone?" Draco shouted, furiously rubbing his eyes, trying to remove all evidence of his tears knowing it was futile.
The air shimmered in front of the door, and a mess of brown hair was revealed.
"Malfoy?" She was staring at his wrist and the blood still covering his finger.
"What are you doing here Granger?" He muttered.
She just stood and stared.
"If it's not Potter, it's one of his little friends. I never have a second of peace." His voice started to rise. "What do I have to do to get a little privacy? Don't you people have anything better to do?"
Hermione blinked, but still made no move to talk.
"Just leave me the hell alone! Get out! Get the fuck out of here and leave me the fuck alone!"
This seemed to jolt her. She blinked again and stepped forward. "I can't believe he was right."
Draco looked down in confusion to where she was looking. There, on his forearm, was the dark mark, a line of blood from his finger running across the skull.
He felt sick again, and looked back to Hermione, she made no move to leave, but he pulled out his wand and quickly put a locking charm on the door. 'What the hell am I going to do,' flashed through his head.
Hermione's eyes opened in fear. He locked her in. Was he going to hurt her? The proof of him being a deatheater was right in front of her, but her brain still couldn't imagine him hurting her.
"You... you can't tell anyone. Please." He stammered. He pulled down his shirt sleeves, and tried to sort out what was going on in his head. 'Now she knows. I can't kill her. No. But she can't know either. I'll be sent to Azkaban, and He would... He would kill me a million times. After torturing me a million times more...'
Draco's head was about to explode. He couldn't think right. His mind refused to cooperate. All he knew was his death was imminent. He couldn't do a thing to stop it.
That thought was the breaking point. He spun around and collapsed against the same wall and sobbed. Not caring if the mudblood was watching. Not caring if she invited the entire Gryffindor house to watch. He was going to die, and he was so scared.
He felt something touch his shoulder, and nearly jumped out of his skin. There she was, kneeling next to him, her hand outstretched to where it previously had been on his shoulder.
"Hey, it's okay. I don't know what's wrong, but I'm sure I can help. Do you want to tell me?"
Draco's jaw dropped in surprise. But what surprised him even more was when he nodded and took a deep breath.
A/N: I think I would like at least one review before writing another chapter. Correct spelling, grammar, idc :) Love you all!
