DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter. Just this particular plot.
I hope you enjoy this one. It's a bit dark… but you'll get over it. :D
It was fairly late, but Ginny wasn't tired at all. She gathered up her books and went down to the kitchens to do some homework. She did this often; it's how she always got her work done. She fished around for the invisibility cloak Harry always stuffed under the chair in the corner for them if they needed it after hours. Ginny made use of it often. She, Ron, Harry, and Hermione always left notes that only they could read when they took it. She left the note under the chair and left the common room.
The kitchens were large – so large that they had divisions. When you walk through the portrait hole, you don't see the kitchens right away because there was a small room that divided the portrait hole from the kitchens where everything was prepared. The room looked like someone's personal kitchenette. There was a small table in the corner that Ginny always occupied for hours, surrounded by books and parchment when she couldn't sleep, a small fridge, and a few sofa chairs in the other corner.
When she got to the first floor, she tickled the pear in the painting that guarded the kitchens and slipped inside, but she wasn't expecting anyone to be in there.
"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"
Draco was sitting with his back to her next to where she usually sat – with her back to the wall and left side towards the door. He turned. "Oh, It's you. Nothing. Couldn't sleep. Why are you here?"
"I always come down here to do homework after hours."
"Hm." He went back to his tea.
"Wow, you're not gonna take points away?"
"I'm here too, aren't I?"
"You're a prefect, you're allowed," Ginny deadpanned.
"A prefect who's not on duty. Do you want me to take points away? Just say the word and it shall be done."
Ginny giggled at his sarcastic remark. She almost expected him to bow to her like a genie would. Just then, the second door – the door to the kitchens – flew open.
"Miz Weezy! It is being a pleasure to see you, as always. Would you like the usual?"
"Yes, thank you, Dobby. It's good to see you, too."
Dobby snapped his fingers and a tray with hot black tea and milk appeared. He motioned towards the table and it hovered over to it, setting itself down in front of Ginny's usual spot.
"We is finishing up in there, Mizz Weezy and Master Malfoy. If you be needing anything, just call." Dobby vanished back into the enormous kitchen.
"Mind if I join you?" Ginny asked, not waiting for his reply before sitting down and placing a book on the table.
"Not like I have a choice."
"Nope," she said happily. Before she started her astronomy assignment, she fixed up her tea, heating the milk before adding it.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked, puzzled. Who warmed their milk?
"Heating the milk. What does it look like?"
"Why?"
"Because then it won't make my tea go cold."
Draco's eyes widened. That was… brilliant. "I never thought of that… my tea always goes cold, and then I have to reheat it."
"Yes, that's why I do it. Reheating tea always changes the taste and it's not as good. Hey, we're actually having a pleasant conversation."
"Mm," he mumbled his acknowledgment, taking a sip of his now lukewarm tea.
"It's nice."
He looked at her, puzzled again. "Huh?"
"I've never liked the stupid fighting. I always found it silly and unnecessary."
"But… I insulted your family, even if I never really insulted you to your face. You're just going to forget that? My, Weaslette. I misjudged you. I thought you were a spitfire."
"Yeah, well… you were an idiot, and you weren't the only one who would instigate. Harry and Ron did a lot of that, too. I despised you then, but I didn't hate you. And you make Harry happy so I'll accept that and move on… as long as you stop. Oh and I am a spitfire. It would be ignorant of you to think you have me figured."
"Oh come now. You do realize that I can't stop, right? Unless you want me to blow our cover."
"As long as you don't mean them, spew all the insults you want to my brother. Merlin knows he sometimes deserves them. But no more calling Hermione a mudblood. And me Weaslette. Deal?"
She held out her hand, and he hesitantly took it. "Deal to the first, Weaslette." He grinned.
She made a miffed sound, but grudgingly accepted that he would never stop calling her that. She didn't really mind all that much, though; it wasn't an insult. Just him being annoying. "Now the position of Mars is here…" She marked off an area on her star chart. "And… Mercury… here… now where is…"
She opened her astronomy book and got lost in it while Draco shook his head and held back a chuckle. The Weaslette wasn't failing to amuse him. She could make a good friend… if he was willing to let her in. She was witty, quick, smart, and didn't hold grudges. She should meet Pansy, Blaise, and Theo. They'd get along well.
"So, Harry's lover, huh? You weren't kiddin'. Why'd you say it, though?"
He realized she was talking about the other day. He wasn't comfortable talking about it with her, though, so he replied with the only thing he knew – defense and smugness.
"Well of course I knew you wouldn't believe me. I did it to get under your skin. You were suggesting he go out with someone, so I staked my claim. It's your fault for not believing it."
"Yeah right. Like you would have believed that if you were in my position. Ha! Draco Malfoy, the jealous type. Who woulda thought? UGH WHERE THE HELL IS JUPITER?! Oh… there it is…"
Draco's tea almost went everywhere. "And you get mad at me for sneaking up on you. You're very strange. Do you know that?"
"I'm told that every day and I'm quite proud of it."
Draco and Ginny had a pleasant time in that little room. Draco even took out some of his own homework and they worked together. Not many words were passed between them, but none were needed. Draco had gone up to bed first, and Ginny followed not long after.
"Draco, how far have you gotten with your task?"
"I… I have been unsuccessful with killing him, My Lord, but my progress with the vanishing cabinet is going very well. I believe I have it almost fixed."
"Very good. Draco, this is your only chance to redeem your family's honor after your disgraceful father failed at the Ministry. You know that. Now let's see to it that you speed up your progress. Crucio."
Draco was not expecting this, so it took him off guard and he screamed. However, the next time Voldemort cursed him, he was ready, and did not open his mouth. He grunted and groaned, and by the time Voldemort was finished with him, he could barely keep his eyes open. When Voldemort left the room, Snape waved away the other death eaters and walked over to Draco. He helped him up and took him back to Hogwarts.
As Draco lay on his back in his room, he thought of how much he loathed Voldemort and how much he wanted to kill him. But his anger soon evaporated, and was replaced with despair. There was no hope for him. Blaise was wrong. He would either do his job and live a miserable life filled with agony and torment, or he would sabotage the operation and be killed along with his parents. The latter sounded better, but he knew that his death would be drawn out and agonizing. He pulled his left sleeve up to his elbow, reached for the knife in his pocket, and held the blade up to his white skin. He watched as his blood ran down his arm as he held it above him after he made the cut, not bothering to wipe it away. It stopped at his elbow.
He made another one over the mark. His blood spilled down his arm and onto his shirt, this time. He wanted so desperately to stop thinking about his fate, but it was impossible; it was all that kept him alive. But he knew that no matter what he did, his life would end horribly. He might be forced to watch as his parents were murdered by Voldemort. Be forced to commit murder. Watch… watch Harry be killed… he shut his eyes tight. He couldn't bear the thought of his parents' or Harry's deaths. His knife drifted up to his wrist, to the joint where his arm and hand met, to the blue veins clearly visible through his pale skin. He had never cut there before. He always did it further up in case his sleeve moved and someone saw. He thought of ending his life for the first time. No one would care… his parents would be killed, anyway… this way, he wouldn't have to watch them scream as their lives were taken viciously by Voldemort. He wouldn't have to feel the unbearable pain when he found out that Harry was killed. He slashed.
"PROFESSOR!" Blaise banged on the door. "PROFESSOR SNAPE!"
"Zabini what on Earth are you shouting about at this hour?!" Snape asked after wrenching open his door.
"Draco!"
Severus paled slightly. "What happened?" 'I just left his room a short while ago after making sure he was fine. What could he possibly have done in that time?'
"He needs a blood replenishing potion! He… he cuts, and he went too deep this time. There's blood all over his bed. I don't know how much he's lost!"
"You know about that?" Severus asked, running back into his apartment and shoving his hand into his cabinet. When he had what he needed, he rushed out the door and locked it.
"Yes… I didn't know you did, too…"
"Of course I know about it. I take care of him every time he comes back from a meeting with the Dark Lord. When you are unconscious, it makes it hard to hide your arms from someone who is taking off your shirt to heal you."
Blaise followed his professor's long strides down to the Slytherin common room and into the triple he shared with Draco and Theo, who was absent at the moment. Probably off on a 'conquest.' Draco's lips were already turning blue and his sheets and clothes were soaked with his blood.
"Hold him up," Snape ordered. Blaise held his friend's back and head upright so Snape could pour the potion into Draco's mouth. Once that was done, Blaise lowered him and Severus held a cloth tightly to Draco's wrist.
"Can't you close it?" the darker boy asked.
"Self-inflicted wounds cannot be healed by magic."
"Oh…"
"Hold this," he said to Blaise, motioning to Draco's wrist. "As hard as you can. That gash is deep."
Blaise responded with no hesitation. He was so worried, so scared. His best friend was dying as he lay there on his bed. Blaise pressed the cloth to Draco's wrist as hard as he could, and he silently thanked the gods for the years of quidditch training that made his hands and arms so strong.
Severus muttered spells and enchantments while his hand and wand hovered over the boy's body, one of which was enervate. The potion was working, and fast. The color returned to Draco's face and lips, and his eyes fluttered open. He stared groggily into the faces of his best friend and professor, and groaned.
"Why would you do something so idiotic, Draco?" Severus growled. "You almost died."
"That was the point. It clearly didn't work."
"Do you know how many people you would have hurt?"
"Doesn't matter," Draco mumbled. His head was still swimming a bit and his voice was slurred. "They'll all die by Voldemort's hands, anyway. Why should I stick around to watch?"
"You idiot," Blaise said. Draco turned his head to the left to look at him, for he was still holding Draco's wrist on the other side of the bed. "Don't you realize that if we stick with Potter and the Order, Voldemort has much less of a chance of winning? We almost lost you! HOW COULD YOU BE SO SELFISH?!"
"Blaise, keep it down," Snape snapped, though more gentle than he normally would have been.
Draco was stunned by the tears in his best friend's eyes. He glanced away, unable to look at Blaise.
Snape stood. "Well, now that he's awake and alright, I'm going to return to my quarters. Draco, I expect to see you tomorrow at eight after dinner. Don't be late."
Draco hadn't the strength to groan as his godfather left the room. He knew how much pain he caused him just by looking at his eyes. He hated hurting or disappointing his godfather more than anything else.
"Draco…" Draco winced at the shudder and raw pain in Blaise's voice. "Please don't ever do that again…"
"I won't."
"Cutting, too."
"I'll try."
"You won't promise to not cut again?"
"I can't make a promise I know I won't keep."
"What about… killing yourself?" Blaise almost whispered.
"I won't. I promise." He was too weak to argue.
"Would you take an unbreakable? About trying, not succeeding but trying, to not cut at all?"
"You don't believe me?" Draco asked, glancing back at Blaise.
"Not… not really…"
"I wouldn't, either."
Thank you for reading. Please tell me what you thought! Reviews make me really happy! :D
