A/N: Back again. I want to thank Angelika, Super Q and Ivory Tower (thanks for reviewing again and again) who took the time to review. I appreciate it, and this is for all who reviewed so far, and who will review in the future (hint hint). Aww, group hug.

Disclaimer: I think we've established by now that I own absolutely nothing.

Jeans.

The rating for this story goes up this chapter. Rather strong language. It's not pointless, though. I didn't just say F*#k, f*#k f*#k for fun. I used it because if I had used any other word, it wouldn't have had the intended effect. Our Draco becomes a little emotional in this chapter.

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Sacrifices

Part Eight - Meltdown

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1

Madam Pomfrey entered the room about two minutes after Professor Snape had left. Draco had a rather difficult time convincing her that he was quite well enough to leave. She seemed to think that perhaps he needed a few hours sleep. Draco was a little tired, but he didn't tell her that. Instead he told her what Professor Snape had said about today's lesson being hard, and that he didn't want Draco falling behind. Madam Pomfrey hesitated for a moment, undecided. Then she shook her haid, tut-tutted in an exasperated manner and waved her hands in a shooing motion.

"Fine, fine. Off you go. I swear, the way you carry on, you'd think I locked you up in chains and forced you to drink dog water" she said. That was enough for Draco. He was out the door barely before she had finished.

Draco had intended to be on time for his Potions lesson. He would simply walk in, sit down as if nothing had happened, and then with any luck the class would simply forget about the bunny-ears incident. Of course Weasley, Scar-head and maybe even the mudblood would make some smart-arse comment. But Snape would no doubt punish them and besides, Draco had a wealth of scathing retorts he could use. Yet when he reached the doors and peered through, he realised that class was already fully in session. If he walked in late, all eyes would be on him. He wouldn't have to explain to Snape why he was late, but no doubt people would guess. And naturally it would bring their attention back to the incident of the day before. And they'd laugh. they'd snigger. He hated the thought, but he couldn't blame them. If he'd been in that position, he wouldn't just be laughing. He'd be shouting from the rooftops how incredibly daft they were. How incredibly idiotic they were to fail at a potion so simple a monkey could probably do it. He'd probably also mention something about the rabbit ears being an improvement by taking the focus off their face. If he walked in, he'd be humiliated. He hated embaressment with a passion. His pride couldn't stand it.

What to do? Now it was his turn to be indecisive. He could go in, get it over with and move on. He knew that it was the smartest option. It was what his father would tell him to do. 'Take it like a man, Draco. Stop being a a bloody child. Grow up and get some courage and stop being such a bloody little cry-baby. Do something right for a change. Stop being such an embaressement to the prestigous Malfoy name.'. But he wasn't about to listen to his advice. Afterall, it was his bloody fault he was in this position to begin with. Draco began to breathe quicker. If he hadn't... then he wouldn't have had to... and he would have just completed the potion. He would have beat Granger, not just tied with her. He wouldn't have had to go to spend the night in the hospital wing, he wouldn't have had to deal with Snape's disappointment, he wouldn't have to be friends with the biggest fools in the school. And he certainly wouldn't be standing outside this classroom door thinking negative thoughts trying to postpone ridicule and humiliation. A deep, dull anger coursed through him, rising into something stronger, sharper.

"Fuck him."

With that, he turned and walked in the opposite direction. Screw potions, screw hogwarts, screw his bloody father. He wasn't taking any of this shit. Not right now, not today. He'd deal with it tomorrow. Today he would do whatever the hell he wanted. He deserved a break.

"Move it, bitch" he said to a passing third year Gryffindor. She looked at him with surpise, before scowling and muttering something about a 'cruel little git'. Draco didn't hear it. If he had, he wouldn't have cared. It was as if all the stress of the past day, week, month, summer, came crashing down upon his shoulders. His body was tense, and seemed to be buzzing with an alive, angry energy that he couldn't control. His strides became longer as he almost ran through the corridors.

He had never been claustrophobic. The darkness of enclosed places didn't bother him, either. But now, the walls seemed to be pushing in on him, weighing him down and laughing all the while. Laughing grinning, giggling at him. At his panic. At his life.

And so When he opened the doors and stepped outside, the relief hit him like a physical thing, and for a moment, he stood, nauseated, as the world spun around him. He was hyperventilating. He tried to slow his breathing, even it out, but panic had a grip on him, and it wasn't about to let him go. He stumbled for a few metres. A few more. He had to get away. Then it would stop. Then would feel safe. Then he'd be ok again. He reeled over to his left, his feet dragging behind him like lead. He tried to find his footing, tried to tell his legs what to do, but they, too, betrayed him. He hit hard as he fell to the ground, hands first. He felt skin scrape off him palms, but then the pain was gone, numbed, leaving him like his sense of reality. He got up on his elbows and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick. He breathed heavily, waiting for the inevitable. It didn't come. He was still breathing in long, deep gasps, but the world was slowly spinning back into focus. The nausea hit him again, and he coughed a few times. The sickness was rising through him, now. Rising, rising... He dry-heaved a few times before it came, but then it came, and he groaned, disgusted and revolted at himself as his breakfast was emptied from his stomach. Well, he thought, seems like it wouldn't have mattered if I had dragon eggs and bacon afterall. No doubt the result would be the same. A stupid thought, not even vaguely appropriate, but he laguhed nevertheless, not even sure if it was funny. Then the laughs turned to shudders, and he angrily wiped the tears from his face. His father was right. He was a stupid-cry-baby. He crawled a few meters away from the mess and pulled his knees close himself. He focused on righting his breathing, berating himself all the while for losing control. That was when he felt the hand on his shoulder, and he looked up into the face of the last person he expected.

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2

Severus Snape wasn't at all suprised when he saw Draco Malfoy peer through the doors ten minutes into his fifth-year potions lesson. He was suprised, however, when his face contorted in anger and he began walking away again. 'What on earth is that child doing?' he wondered in moderate annoyance. For a moment he wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't lying when he had said that today's lesson would be more complicated. He couldn't just leave the class unattended. They wouldn't know what to do. But there was no way of getting around it; he was rather concerned at Malfoy's unpredictable behaviour over the past two days. He wanted answers, and he had a feeling that this might be the only time he'd get any forthcoming. He curled his lip, despising what he was about to do.

"Right, class, I've got some business to attend to. Granger, you're in charge till I get back. If I hear about any misbehaviour there'll be points off no matter what house you're from", he said, eyeing the slytherins. They looked almost as shocked as Hermione.

"Oh and Hermione?"

she looked up

Don't let it go to your head."

With that he left the room and walked down the corridors. For about half a minute he couldn't hear anything, and he was worried that he may have gone the wrong way and lost him. But then the sound of heavy footstops (angry footsteps) caught his ears, and he strode forward again, with increased purpose.

To say that he was suprised at what he found when he caught up with Malfoy would be the understatement of the century. He had expected the smug, self-confident, sarcastic Draco Malfoy everyone knew and loved... er, hated, actually. Instead he found a quivering mess. It took him a few moments to digest exactly what he was seeing. And so for about ten seconds (or perhaps it was actually just a few, and it just seemed longer, he coudn't be sure) he just stood there, unmoving, doing a remarkable impression of the expression that he had scolded Draco for just that morning. About twenty minutes ago. Suddenly it seemed a lifetime longer. Because no one could have such a dramatic change in state-of-mind within the space of twenty minutes.

Snape didn't know what to do. His first thought was that he should go and get someone else. Madam Pomfrey, perhaps. Dumbledore, even. But that would take five, maybe ten minutes. Perhaps longer if he couldn't find them. He couldn't just leave him here. Besides, Malfoy was a Slytherin, and therefore was his responsibility nore than anyone's. He sighed, resigned to what had to be done. As he moved toward the figure, who had his back to him and was now sitting on the ground with he knees pulled up to his body, all he could think was 'I'm not suited to things like this. Not at all'. He approached the boy, who still wasn't aware of his presence. He reached out and placed his hand awkwardly and tentatively on his shoulder. The boy looked up at him.

"What, exactly, are you doing, Malfoy?"

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Umm, this kinda suprised me. When I sat down to write this chapter, I fully intended Draco to go to class. But, dammit, he just really didn't want to go! And then everything just kinda snowballed. Hmm. I'm a bit worried about this chapter, because I'm not sure if I've written it well enough. This chapter really stirred something in me because it's partly auto-biographical, but I'm not sure if the intensity of the emotion Draco was feeling came across or not. If it didn't then it just seems like he had a little meltdown for no real reason, out of the blue. But believe me, sometimes things just hit you when you least expect it. Especially when you bottle things up. That's what happened to poor ol' Draco.

Rest assured, I won't be suddenly turning him into a weak, scared, dribbly little puppy-dog. In order to have put up with Lucius for so long, he has to have developed inner strength, right? Having to put up with shit from the people who matter the most to you day in, day out makes you tougher and weaker at the same time. So expect Draco to show moments of strength and moments of weakness... intensely. I think he's gonna have a nice showdown with Lucius, too. For those who want to see some Snape/Draco bonding, well, you may have to wait a bit longer. Snape's a bit (a lot, actually) of a cold fish, and that doesn't just disappear overnight. But he's not as cruel as he lets on, either.

Now, time for bed.