Note: This was written between me and my friend, and the song used is "Blame it on the Weatherman" by B*Witched. I am hoping that you like it. I do not own Harry Potter nor does my friend. J

Blame it on the Weatherman

It was a cold and drizzly day, and once the thick spiraling sheets of rain subsided to a lighter mist of rain, Draco Malfoy put on his warm winter robes, a Slytherin scarf, and two silver mittens. He wore no hat, for he figured it would feel good to feel the rain falling onto his head for once. He wanted to escape Hogwarts for just a while, to escape everything that haunted him inside.


It's just one more day
No one said
There would be rain again
Won't blame it on myself
I'll blame it on the weatherman
Get away for a while
Here I amount on my own again
Won't blame it on myself
I'll blame it on the weatherman

Pressing the collar of his robes closer around himself, trying hard not to bump into anyone on the way out, Draco hurriedly rushed past the tall doors and then into the rain. The cold water didn't really matter to him – it was just another small distraction, and it was the big picture that mattered to him. Draco closed his eyes as the wind blew a gust of rain into them. His light-colored eyelashes parted and he caught sight of Harry Potter's snowy owl flying in with a parcel towards the dining area. Fair enough, that Harry would be getting a gift from someone. Everyone adored him, didn't they?

Draco paused as he wiped a tear from his left eye. Damn you, Potter.

His footsteps quickened as he paced the Hogwarts grounds. The rain grew thicker and it roared in his ears, heavy and uncomfortable. His thoughts were stormier then the weather. Why did Harry always get the girl? Why did he always end up with Hermione? Why don't I ever have anyone?

Draco knew the treason why – his father had molded an image, a form he had to fill, and if he didn't, he'd literally be abandoned by the family. Draco Malfoy, the perfect son according to Lucius Malfoy – how deliciously ironic that Draco felt completely different. He felt he was not the perfect son, for though he did what his father demanded of him, he didn't want it that way.

Hate the Muggles. Have the Dark Mark burned in your arm. Be a Death Eater. Sure, dad.

Standing on the shore
Calling out your name
I was here before
I could see your face
Only clouds will see
Tears are in my eyes
Empty like my heart
Why do ya say goodbye

Draco stopped at the very break of where he would be leaving the terrain of the Quidditch fields and entering the route to Hagrid's small cottage. It was a straight path, but he wondered if he should risk it. The sky was opening up again, pouring hatefully. Draco felt that everyone was saying goodbye to him, that Hogwarts was silently waving to him from the distance. If they find me dead in the forest, they'll assume it was the werewolves. Didn't Dumbledore say the forest held a slow and painful death?

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out the switchblade. Death would be slow and painful with this. A stab in a lucky place would drain him of blood, and a quick spell in the meantime could rearrange his scars to make it look like an animal mauling. Lucky me.

The rain goes on (on and on again)

The rain goes on (on and on again)

Alone I can hear
Hear our song
Playing for me again
Won't blame it on myself
Just blame it on the weatherman

" I'll just say the weather influenced me. Took a walk. That's it. Took a walk to get out of stinking Hogwarts, and then an animal mauled me. There." Draco yanked the switchblade through the air. It swished pleasantly – death was going to be sweet. They didn't tell me that it would rain on my death day. The paper was wrong. I thought at least it would be sunny.

He looked up in the torn sky, rain pouring down even heavier.

Maybe it's too late
Maybe it's too late to try again
Maybe I can pray
Maybe I can wait
Maybe I can blame it on the weatherman

He sighed. It was going to be now or never. Kill himself now, who cares if it is nice or not? You're dead or at least good as dead, anyway. He brought the blade down on his wrist, but before he could make the cut, he heard a voice behind him:

" Draco? What are you doing!?"

He turned. Hermione?