Author's Note: We do not own Harry Potter!

Chapter 2

"Draco? What are you doing?"

Draco turned around. Hermione?

There stood the dark rainy figure of Hermione. The sudden sound of her voice made him jump and the switchblade dug harshly into his skin. He bit his lip to keep from crying out.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked again, "It's past curfew, you should get inside."

"So should you. If it's past my curfew, it's past yours. What are you doing out here?" He replied, quickly covering his wrist.

No one said
There would be rain again
Won't blame it on myself

He could feel the blood run down his wrist and start to seep through his robes.

Hermione shook her head, the rain plastering the dark curls to her forehead. Steady raindrops seeped down the sides of her cheeks and into her collar. She replied honestly: "I'm just running these spare Quidditch things to Hagrid. They're from Dumbledore. You should really head on inside. Its pouring down out here, incase you haven't noticed."

Draco turned away and sneered angrily, "I've noticed. Go on Mudblood, do your little job. Leave me in peace why don't you?" His blonde hair fluttered down loosely, about a centimeter from his earlobes. Hermione didn't notice it was so shiny and long the way he always pulled it back in a slick hairdo.

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

Draco could feel a lump rise in his throat. Don't worry, it'll be over in a little. For all I know, no one will even notice. The rain ran down his face… or were those tears? He couldn't tell anymore. Everything was running together, like the tears and rainwater on his cheeks. Everything was blurry.

His eyes narrowed hatefully. What was she staring at? This is my business! " Well? Go dump your stupid Quidditch supplies at the giant's house and go!" His voice cracked. "Go on, Mudblood!" He spoke sharply.


I was here before
I could see your face
Only clouds will see
Tears are in my eyes
Empty like my heart

"What's that in your hand?" Hermione asked.

Draco snapped the blade shut with his palm. It dug into his skin again. Fresh red blood ran freely, a red wine of life that stung oddly in the pouring rain.

"Draco!" Hermione cried. "Draco, come on. Come on, follow me, I will take you to Hagrid's to get that cleaned up. Come on!"

Were Mudbloods all so dense? I want to be alone! Draco shoved her outstretched arm away. A bright smear of blood appeared on her Gryffindor cloak. His fists tightened even more on the blade and he shouted: "No!," crying harder as more blood splashed to the ground and the pain became more intense.

"Come on, Draco," Hermione wasn't giving up. Calling names and shouting was the first line of defense, something she read in The Wizard's Handbook of Psychology.

He turned his back to her.

Maybe it's too late to try again
Maybe I can pray
Maybe I can wait

"Draco! Come on." He turned back to her again. She could see the pain and anger in his eyes. "Draco, come on, you're scaring me, please come on!"


I guess I'll… I'll blame it on the weatherman

Draco looked more or less unwilling to budge. Instead, he spoke: " It's just the weather. I was just - - the house was too stuffy… a walk in the woods…"

" Bullshit. You're not supposed to be out here." Hermione put her hands on her hips. " You're going to get an infection – you're bleeding all over. Did you cut yourself?"

Draco slowly unclenched his fist. A blood-spattered knife gave wake to a gruesome slash across his fingers and then vertically across his palm. It was deep and dirty and the rainwater pooled in his hand as he cupped it in this way, readying to infect the newly-opened skin. He had never worked physically with his hands; they possessed an unusual softness to them very much unlike Harry's or Ron's. The terrible cut was a new thing to them.

She gasped. " Hagrid will have to clean this up for you!"

~*~

A/n: What will happen next? REVIEW! Bwa ha ha!