A/N Alright, I know I said this was going to be a one-shot, but I couldn't help myself! Read the below A/N for details.

Thanks: To Coldplay, for inspiring the title of this chapter.

Disclaimer: The plot's mine and you can't have it, and everything besides Draco belongs to JKR. Draco, as is a well known fact, belongs exclusively to himself… and the Dark Lord. Oh yes, and I'm not one for song-fics, but this fit so perfectly, I had to use it! Right, so the amazing song Twisted Logic belongs to Coldplay.

Chapter 2: Twisted Logic

Sunlight opened up my eyes
To see for the first time, it opened them up.
And tonight rivers will run dry
Not for the first time rivers will run
Hundreds of years in the future,
There could be computers looking for life on Earth
Don't fight for the wrong side
Say what you feel like
Say how you feel
You go backwards but then you go forwards again
You go backwards but then you go

-- Twisted Logic, from the album X&Y by, Coldplay

He's finally gone. I attempt to sit up but find that I can't. I lay, stiff on the floor, waiting for death to take me. I can almost hear the mudblood's words in my ear; think of me when you're at death's door and are begging to be killed she had said. Rather, whispered. Damn her to hell. Which is exactly where you'll be going, I think cynically.

Because the Dark Lord didn't kill me, I know that he still expects me to complete the task. But I can't. I'm on the floor of my room, waiting to die. How can I possibly kill someone while I'm dying? I feel my stomach lurch. The blood comes gushing out of my mouth, a river of red. Is that green there too? I can't live through this; with bile and blood streaming out of me, how much longer do I have? A few minutes, hours possibly? My only hope is that someone will find me here on the floor. And that's no hope at all. After all, the Dark Lord has probably ordered everyone, that is, everyone who works for him, to stay away from my room.

So that accounts for all the Slytherins. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws don't even deserve to be mentioned. As for the Gryffindors, what would they be doing here? I am going to die, alone, on the floor. Without ever loving anyone, without ever being loved by someone. What was that? Since when do I care about loving or being loved? I've been fine my entire life without love. It's a weakness… Another excuse.

Here it comes, I can feel the darkness enveloping me. I have seconds left to me. And I accept my fate; what can I do? I have nothing to say in my last moments, nothing I want to do. No one I want to thank, nothing I want to say. This is life. This is real.

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So this is death. It's not as bad as I had thought it would be… I always thought that when one died, they didn't have thoughts; clearly, I was wrong. My eyes are closed; I can't see anything. I don't want to open them, don't want to see hell, but I know I'll have to. As much as I'd like to, I can't close myself off from the one place I'll be for the rest of eternity.

One. Two. Three. I force my eyes open. I always assumed that hell would be black, or at least dark, so it came as a shock to me when I saw light. Everything is white. There isn't a trace of black anywhere. How is this possible? Could it be that maybe, just maybe, I ended up in… heaven?

I look around, shocked. It looks a lot like the Hospital Wing. Strange… I always imagined heaven to look more like a grassy field. An endless plane, with no boundaries in sight. A place where souls could be free.

I move my hands, trying to feel what I'm on. It feels like a mattress. I push up with them. Immediately, instantaneously, an almost blinding pain comes over me. I let out a loud cry and fall back down on the bed. This can't be heaven, this is some sick joke. The concept of heaven is amusing. This is hell, I know. Being forced to be in eternal pain forever sounds hellish enough.

But wait, someone is approaching. Am I not the only one destined to be here?

"Potion," the woman mutters. It's Madame Pomfrey. What's she doing here? She's not dead… Is she? Or wait… Am I dead? Is there a chance that…

"Am I dead?" I ask civilly. Pomfrey stares at me for a moment and then responds.

"No. You're in the Hospital Wing. Someone brought you in here,"

"Might I know whom?" I ask as if directing the question towards a two-year old.

"I'm not permitted to tell you," she answers curtly. Ah. It must've been either Crabbe or Goyle who brought me up here. Problem solved. Now… What to do about not being dead. Instead, I'm alive and… well on a hospital bed. Most people would prefer this to being dead. But I'm not so sure.

"When can I leave?" I inquire politely.

"In two days," she replies curtly. At least she's not being warm. That would be disturbing. I nod my head and turn on my side away from the woman. She's probably a half blood or something of a less than pleasant nature. Horrid.

I can't help but wonder… The mudblood had said that she would make me pay. Was it possible that she was outside my room that night and… No! Why would she ever do anything of a decent nature? She's a bloody mudblood!

I fall asleep.

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"Dearest?" I hear a voice at my right. Pansy? Damn it, I completely forgot about her.

"Pansy?" I groan. I want to go back to sleep, but since when do my needs matter? We both hold amicable feelings towards each other, nothing more, so why does she keep up this… this act?

"Draco!" she squeals. I often wonder if she has bipolar, being completely sweet one second and then squealing the next. I do not need the squealing right now; the blinding headache I've had to endure for the last few hours is punishment enough. I would complain to Pomfrey, but I know I don't deserve medicine. The Dark Lord punished me for a reason, I accept that. In fact, I probably deserve worse than this. It's thanks to bloody Granger that I'm not dead now. Well bravo to her.

Death. If the Dark Lord thought I deserved it, he would've killed me; hence, I don't think I need to take any drastic actions. What is wrong with me? I'd prefer death over life? Is this what my life has come to? And the Dark Lord… I… Why has he tethered me so? What control does he have over me? The fact that he almost killed me must count for something. It's because you deserved it Draco, a voice snaps in my head.

"Draco?" Pansy inquires, not entirely sure as to why I'm silent.

"Sorry Pansy, I just need to sleep for a bit OK?" I say. I watch her nod and leave. I can guess what she's thinking.

The fact remains, the Dark Lord almost killed me. Almost. I linger there, hoping that means something. Hoping I'm not going mad. Hoping I'm not possessed. You're an arrogant bastard. What control can he have over you? asks a voice in my head. It's true; he has no control over me, I just believe strongly in his cause. I will kill Dumbledore. I can't risk anything more, so I'll have to use the cupboard. Damn it. I was hoping I wouldn't need to use my last resort. I know if I use it, Greyback will want to enter the school. A sudden thought strikes me. What will my father think?

I know if the Dark Lord doesn't kill me for failing, father will. Nothing is ever good enough for the man.

Sleep over comes me, calling me to its dark shores. I oblige.

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Consciousness comes with a price; Pomfrey's hovering over me again.

"May I go?" I ask, trying to be as polite as possible. I just want to get out of this place I had thought was hell.

"Yes, b—. Yes," she blurts. I wonder briefly what she was going to say, but then banish the thought. It's not as if I give a damn about what she thinks. All that matters is what I think.

I strut out of the Hospital Wing, struggling not to limp. I'm still in pain, but I won't tell Pomfrey. I know I deserve this. I didn't bother buttoning up my shirt as I left the infirmary, and I smirk at the girls staring with open mouths at my chest. Idiots.

My room is how I left it; clean, immaculate and cold. I stare at the floor after entering, trying to block out the emotions that are racing through my body right now. Ignore it; they'll soon pass. But not soon enough. I give a small cough and then start retching. The vomit comes out of my mouth in a stream. The bile burns my tongue and throat as it makes its way out of my body.

My stomach heaves, and I gulp in air desperately, until my stomach has nothing left in it. I use my wand to quickly clean up all the vomit and then decide to take a shower.

I take my time, knowing that I don't have to go to classes today if I don't feel well. I dress in a crisp black shirt, black trousers and black tie. I throw my robes over my clothes and make my way out of the bathroom.

The bed welcomes me as I throw myself upon it. I hear its ancient wooden legs creak with weight. I lie on my stomach, put my hands to my temples and close my eyes in thought. I don't know what to do. I know the world would be a better place without Dumbledore, but do I have to be the one to do it? If it was free, I'd love to kill him. But I'm not sure if I'm willing to risk my soul for him, my conscious.

I let my head fall to the soft bed and I breathe in the scent of the bed. It's musty, and smells like wood and mold. I wonder how old the bed is. Does it matter?

I roll on my side and loosen my tie. I've made up my mind; I'm not going to go to class today. I let the tie drape over my shoulders as I lie on my back, staring up at the ceiling. It's painted silver and green, painted snakes twined around the corners of the room.

I can't think. Not now. Instead, I decide to go down to lunch. I tie my tie and tighten it, pulling it against my throat. I rub the back of my neck as I get out of the bed, and I walk down to the Great Hall. I'm rather early; there's almost no one there. I pile food on my plate, thinking about how this is the first time in six years I've served myself, and sit down. I stare at the plate in front of me and then I look up. I see Dumbledore's twinkling eyes. The bleeder looks like he's drunk. Idiot. I take a bite while staring at him and then look back down.

Within a few moments, Crabbe and Goyle come and join me. They look rather lost upon seeing me, as if unsure as to what to do. I don't know if it's because of the food, or because…

"Which one of you brought me to the Hospital Wing two days ago?" I ask sharply. They need to be spoken to as such; they aren't exactly people one would call intelligent.

"Huh? Neither of us did. Did we?" Crabbe asks Goyle densely.

"Nope," Goyle replies. It couldn't be… Surely not her! I am silent, and I don't look at Crabbe or Goyle as they stare at my food, as if wondering how it got there. Did the mudblood save my life? No… She knows my secret, why would she save me?

That brings me to another question: how did she know? How could she have known? Does the order have a spy on our side? What if… No. Snape would never betray us like that. But then… How does she know? I hear a laugh coming from the entrance of the Great Hall. It's her – pardon, it. Along with its usual crowd.

I glare at it, shooting daggers through my piercing stare. She finally catches sight of me and quickly looks away. I can not believe this; I shall have to speak to it later on. Damn this! Why me? Why me…

Created then drilled and invaded
If somebody made it someone will mess it up
And you are not wrong to
Ask who does this belong to
It belongs to all of us
You go backwards but then you go forwards again
You go backwards but then you go forwards
You go backwards but then you go forwards again
You go backwards but then you go forwards

-- Twisted Logic, from the album X&Y by, Coldplay

A/N So, what do you think of my decision to continue this fic and make it… Dun dun! A story! Tell me your thoughts; I'd like to know what you think. So basically, REVIEW! (please) Alright, thanks to all who have/will (reviewed that is.) Bye and bisous ~ the shattered star