This chapter may have some errors in it as I don't think I sent it to my betas.  I figured everyone deserved an update, anyway.

MJ:  I'm glad you like the descriptions as I was hoping they came out alright.  Having never cut myself, and being something of an emotionally stable person (at least recently), I don't know first hand how things would be progress.

Tinetinytina:  Here's the next part and I hope it came fast enough.  I'm updating as quickly as I know possible.

Deedee:  There's more of Draco in this chapter.  I hope it satiates your craving.

IsabelA113:  I'm glad you like Blaise.  I really don't know how it happened but Blaise Zabini felt ignored and decided to become one of the main characters in my story.  It was quite by accident as I didn't even put him in my original plan.

Tine:  Well, I love you, too.  I hadn't really meant for Kali's name to be so evil and I did realize it just after I began writing it.  I could have changed it but I decided not to.  Anyway, Malfoy means "bad faith" and Draco's a sweetheart in here so I guess a rose by any other name would still smell just as sweet.  As for Snape, I figured he had to be a nice daddy.  He's cranky, sure, but I can't imagine him not being warm to his own offspring, even if he is sarcastic, bitter, and cynical.

To anyone who reads and/or reviews, thank you for taking the time out and I hope you are enjoying it.

DISCLAIMER:  I am not JK Rowling.  If I were, I'd be finishing the fifth book and it would be all about how Draco and Harry fall in love.  What you recognize is Ms. Rowling's, the writing goddess that she is.  The plot and original characters are mine, gods help me.

Falling Chapter Eight

Draco rolled over in his bed in the hospital wing and cursed under his breath at the starchy sheets rubbing against the sensitive skin of his chest.  He had protested and told Madam Pomfrey that he would be fine going back to Slytherin but neither she nor McGonagall thought it wise just yet, especially not after the fainting spell he had that morning.  Even in the dark night of the infirmary, the white walls were too bright for his eyes to deal with, and Draco clamped them shut so tight that he could see the green fuzzy patterns on his eyelids.  He sighed once and tossed over again to his other side.  Damn these sheets were annoyingly uncomfortable.  Bugger.

"Draco?"

Blaise's soft voice practically floated across the infirmary and through the thin material of the light blue curtains pulled around his bed.  His voice cracked when he spoke and the sound cut through Draco's heart.  At first he didn't reply, hoping that Blaise would think he had gone to sleep like he had thought of the other boy, but he had been making too much noise before being interrupted for that to be believable.

"Yes, Blaise?"

"Oh - er - I just wanted to see if all that noise was you.  You're very loud down there."

"I can't get comfortable," he mumbled, shifting for what felt like the millionth time.  "These sheets are possibly the most uncomfortable thing in the world.  Someone should tell the house elves to use some sort of fabric softener."

Blaise snorted a laugh.  Hearing the familiar sound floating across the large hospital wing, his voice echoing off the wall, caused a chill to skirt down Draco's spine.  He hated hearing the voice from so far away but yet having it sound like Blaise were lying right next to him.  The latter was a position he was more accustomed to being in with Blaise.  Having him on the entirely opposite side of the room due to Draco's recently developed short fuse was not among his most usual circumstances.

"Why are you even talking to me?" asked Draco.

Silence for some time and then, "Why wouldn't I be?"

It was now Draco's turn to snort a laugh.  "Gods, Blaise, I don't know.  How about the fact that I almost killed you at dinner this evening?  Does that particular incident ring any bells?"  Blaise didn't answer.  Draco's eyelids fluttered as he pulled his arms around his naked torso.  Suddenly the room was feeling rather icy.  "How is your neck, anyway?"

"A little sore but I'm okay.  Most of my pain disappeared when I could breathe again."

Draco didn't really know how you properly respond to a statement like that.  What did I do to him, he thought.  It scared Draco how good it felt to have his hands around Blaise's neck, strangling the life out of him, and being the one in charge of whether Blaise lived or died.  He knew that sense of satisfaction.  It was the same feeling he got when he looked at the scabs covering his forearms, the sensation of being in control of something whether it be where he had injuries or whether Blaise could breathe.  It gave him an outlet and Draco would much rather deal with the physical pain than face the emotional.  He needed his dagger and he needed it now.  Hearing Blaise and thinking about what he had almost done to him was enough to make him want to slice his hand right off rather than face Blaise again.  Gods, if only he wouldn't talk.

"Hey, Draco?"

Bugger.  "What?"

"Just wanted to know if you were still up."

Draco sighed.  "Blaise - I . . . er, I want to say that I'm sorry.  You're right when you say that what happened was awful but that I need to confront it.  The thing is, I just don't know how, and right now, I don't really want anyone interfering and showing me the way.  I need some time to mourn before I pick back up.  Maybe I'm taking too long, but I'm not ready to face it and move on.  You can tell me a thousand times that I need to, and I know I do, but it's not going to change whether I'm ready or not.  Anyway, I'm sorry I tried to strangle you."

"I know you are.  It's okay.  I accept."

"It's okay?  It is not fucking okay.  How can you say it's okay?  I tried to fucking choke you to death."

"You were mad.  I lost my temper.  I shouldn't have pushed you."

"You lost your temper."

"Yes, I lost my temper.  I provoked you.  There's no need for you to apologize."

"You're kidding, right?"

"No, not really.  I know you lost your temper, but you're sorry and I know that.  No need to dwell on it."

"How can you just forgive me?  I tried to kill you, Blaise.  Kill as in dead.  Kill as in what Voldemort does to muggles and Death Eaters who are unfaithful.  I did the physical version of Avada Kedavra-ing your arse and you're just going to forgive me?"

Blaise was silent for a while and then, "Er - yeah."

"You're a fucking idiot."

"Probably."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why can you just forgive me?"

Blaise was once again silent.  Probably thinking it over.  Well, good.  I hope he thinks it over.  Then he'll realize what a fucking moron he really is and he won't forgive me.  Draco shuddered.  He certainly didn't want that, either.  Blaise shouldn't forgive him, but Draco didn't want him to hate him, either.

"Because I know you," was Blaise's final answer.  "Because I know you didn't mean it.  Because I love you."

Draco couldn't come up with an answer to that.  Why did Blaise have to pull the 'L' card out at a time like this?  Fucking arseholed bugger.  Now it was his turn to talk and he didn't know what you say to something like that.  They were over for good.  Draco promised himself that when it happened and there was still no room for reconciliation.  He couldn't give Blaise what he wanted and now he was pulling out the bloody fucking 'L' card?  Fucker.

"You're worse than a fucking idiot.  You've officially sunk to the level of Crabbe and Goyle."

Now that was lame.

"Fuck you, Malfoy.  Don't even say that I've gone that low."

"Yeah, okay.  Sorry.  That was kind of cruel."

"Kind of?"

"Er -"

Neither one spoke again for what felt like years despite Draco knowing that, in actuality, it had probably only been somewhere around five to ten minutes.  He could just picture Blaise's face twisted in contemplation as random memories and thoughts swirled around in his mind.  Thoughts of Draco's own were beginning to breach the unreachable lands again and he pushed them away with the promise of a good slicing with his dagger when that bitch, Pomfrey, finally let him out.  It better be tomorrow because Draco was not going to sit in the hospital wing with Blaise on the other side pulling out the 'L' card all day.

"Draco - I know this may seem rather . . . well, I know this probably won't be well-received but I have to say it anyway."

"What are you babbling about, Blaise?"

"Er - um - I was just wondering . . . how did you get those cuts on your forearms?"

Shit.  Shit shit shit.

"What cuts?"

What do you mean, what cuts, you stupid fuck?

"I saw them, Draco.  Are you . . . are you cutting yourself again?"

"No, I'm not, but thanks for your concern."

"Draco, I know you're cutting yourself again."

"I'm not."

"You are.  If you weren't then you'd tell me how you got those cuts on your arm."

"I - uh - fell in the shower and cut my arm.  It's no big deal, Blaise.  Drop it."

"If you're cutting yourself again, you need to get help.  Go to McGonagall.  Go to Dumbledore.  You need counseling."

"I don't need therapy, you fucking twit.  I'm not cutting myself again and there's nothing wrong."

"You've got to stop cutting yourself.  There's no way you got those cuts from falling in the shower."

"Fuck off, Blaise.  You aren't my father so stop shaking your finger at me like I'm being scolded.  I'm not fucking cutting myself and you aren't going to be my fucking hero so back the fuck off."

"I'm not trying to scold you and I'm not trying to be a hero -"

"Leave it go, Blaise.  I don't want to hear it.  Remember what happened the last time you pushed just a tad bit too fucking far?"

"McGonagall put a charm around my bed.  You can't touch me."

Draco shuddered at the memory.  He needed to be magically restrained.  They thought he was so unhinged that he was magically restrained from being able to touch Blaise.  How had it gotten to the point where he was harming the one person who had actually cared for him when his life fell to shit last year?  Draco rubbed at his temples and tossed over in bed.

"Draco?"

"Go to bed.  This conversation is closed."

"But, Draco-"

"I told you already.  This conversation is over.  I'm not speaking on the matter anymore tonight."

"G'night, Draco."

Draco let a weary, "G'night, Blaise," before falling asleep thoroughly exhausted.

~*~

Kali sipped tea from the cup before her as she watched her father hurriedly grading essays by the fire.  He had been so enraged at one essay the night before that he had shoved them all away and went to bed, thus leaving his work overload for the morning.  She always did tell him that he got too worked up over these things and that if he would just breathe then it wouldn't be a problem.  Snape would call her 'Dru' and insist that she inherited the pest gene from her mother.  Kali gave him the biggest shit-eating grin she could muster.

"You know, Dad, this wouldn't be a problem if you just acquired a little more tolerance."

"Tolerance?" he snapped as he angrily scribbled onto a poor third year's essay with red ink.  "Why don't you grade a few of these essays and then we'll talk about tolerance?  This particular essay is by a third-year Hufflepuff by the name of Stephen Halliwell.  Mister Halliwell has been in my class for two years now and he still doesn't know the twelve uses of dragon's blood.  His own headmaster was part of that particular discovery.  You would think he'd have learned it by now."

"Oh, Daddy, relax.  I have Potions today, you know."

He visibly grimaced.

"You will be well-behaved, won't you?"

"Of course."

"Don't think I'll go easy on you just because we share the same bloodline."

"Of course not.  I wouldn't dream of it."

"You'll be treated the same as all the other Gryffindors."

"From what I hear about how you treat the other Gryffindors, maybe I should skip class."

"Skip and you'll have detention."

"You'd give me detention?" she asked with her jaw wide open.

All Snape did was manage a grin before marking a large 'F' on Stephen Halliwell's essay.

"As much as I'd love to sit here with you talking about detentions and angrily defacing the poor Hufflepuffs' essays, Ron's waiting for me.  He's going to walk me to breakfast this morning."  She didn't miss Snape's eyes roll up and pointedly fall on her as she was about to stand and head for the door.  "What?"

"Mister Weasley is escorting you to breakfast?"

"Yes, and tomorrow we're getting married," she answered.  "Gods, Dad, you really do need to relax.  It must be all the grading.  Don't worry.  Any essay I have to write for you will be wonderful."

"Why on earth would Mister Weasley be escorting you to breakfast?  Are you incapable of finding the Great Hall on your own?  Is it so painful to enter by yourself that you need Mister Weasley holding your hand as you cross the threshold?"

"All he's doing is walking me to breakfast.  It isn't like we're buying an owl together or anything."

"Yet.  You do know what a boy walking you to breakfast leads to, don't you?"

"The same boy walking me to dinner?"

"Kailah."

"You say that like I'm the one being ridiculous."

"Boys only have one thing on their minds."

"Quidditch?"

"Kailah."

"Food?"

"Alright, two things on their minds."

"Daddy, if you're talking about sex then you can relax.  We've already done that."

"WHAT?!"

Kali laughed.  "I was just kidding.  Man, you should have seen your face."

"I don't see what could have possibly been amusing about misleading me to believe that you and Mister Weasley engaged in the art of fornication."

"The art of fornication?"  Kali snorted.  "Okay, Dad.  You keep complaining to yourself about my developing relation with Ron.  I have to go."  Kali blew him a kiss before slipping out of his private rooms without giving Snape a chance to argue.

Once Kali got back to Gryffindor, Ron was already there waiting for her.  He offered his arm to her for the second time in a row and they headed for the Great Hall.  They made small talk as they walked with Kali answering questions about where she had been (getting in her morning jog, of course) and engaging in brief conversation over the classes they were having today.  Apparently both Ron and Harry thought it was important that she be prepped and they would be giving her a rather thorough walk through of the day's classes at their morning meal.

"Good morning, Mister Weasley, Miss Strauser," drawled Snape's cool voice as Ron and Kali approached.  She glared at him, her smile going awkward as if to say, Well I guess you decided to show up when Ron and I did.

"Good morning, Professor," gulped Ron.

"Yeah, yeah.  Morning," Kali muttered before pulling Ron along.  Snape cocked and eyebrow and smirked slightly as he headed for the head table.  Ron was wide-eyed as Kali dragged him along before stopping to push him down in a seat across from Harry.

"I can't believe you just did that," sputtered Ron ignoring the eggs, rashes of bacon, and toast that was piled high before him.

"What did she do?" asked Harry as he chomped on his eggs rather lewdly.

"Snape came in at the same time as us and he said hello is that cool, icy manner he uses and Kali was just like, 'whatever'."

"Honestly, I don't see why you three think Professor Snape is that bad.  He can't possibly be as terrible as you make him out to be."

"You haven't had Potions yet," pointed out Harry.  "Wait until class is over today.  You'll change your tune."

And change her tune in deed.  The first class for the Gryffindors was Charms with Professor Flitwick, which Kali found she instantly adored because he old Charms professor had been a rather old and cranky witch so this was a bit of an improvement.  Apprehension and anxiety manifested in the pit of Kali's stomach as she approached the dungeons and her Potions class, which she immediately discovered to be with the Slytherins.  Draco Malfoy was already there and right in the front ("Suck up," Ron had whispered to her).  Blaise was in the back of the room and offered her a smile as soon as she came in.  Along with Ron, Hermione, and Harry, Kali also took a seat in the back, conveniently between Blaise and Ron.

The door to the classroom flew open, banged on its hinges a bit, and then shut on its own, but as it closed, Snape was already at the front of the room.

"Bring your summer essays to the front and put them on my desk," he commanded immediately.  Kali reluctantly raised her hand.

"Yes, Miss Strauser?"

"Er - I wasn't told of any summer assignment."

Snape's eyes faltered for a moment.  Kali almost found it amusing that she had spent the entire summer under his care and he had not once mentioned any such essay.  In fact, she would have found it amusing if it hadn't been for the tension the class seemed to collectively get the moment her father had walked into the room.  Neville Longbottom gave her a sympathetic smile as he made an overexagerrated gesture of putting his essay on the pile.

"Congratulations on actually doing something right in this class for a change, Longbottom," Snape sneered at the gesture.  "Five points from Gryffindor for showing off."

Kali's jaw dropped.  "I told you so," whispered Ron beside her.

"Miss Strauser, please see me after class to settle the problem with your lack of essay."

"Okay."

Once the class had turned in their essays and returned to their seats, Snape gazed across the room before speaking in the silky, sarcastic voice that they all, minus Kali, were accustomed to.  "I regret to inform you, as Mister Longbottom is in this class, that this semester we will be making two rather complex potions.  The first, which you will be starting on your next lesson, is a medical potion to stop the bleeding of fatal wounds called Blessure Fatale.  The second, which you will be starting in the forthcoming weeks depending upon how well you make Blessure Fatale, is Polyjuice Potion.  There have been instances of Polyjuice Potion use at this school before so can anyone tell me what it is used for?"

To no one's surprise, Hermione's hand instantly shot up.  Snape, also to no one but Kali's, surprise, ignored it.

"No one?"  He got a sort of wicked glare.  "Miss Strauser?"

"Um -" said Kali, searching her mind.  Hadn't one of the kids at school tried to brew Polyjuice Potion and ended up with an extra arm?  No, maybe that was something else.  "To take on the appearance of someone else?"  Was that right?  She was reaching but that's all she could place Polyjuice to.  Stupid Slytherin git of a father.  His lips twitched at her answer.  Oh gods, she had been wrong.

"Is that your answer or was it a question, Miss Strauser?"

For some reason, the Slytherin girls seemed to find this funny.

"Honestly, it was a question.  It's the only thing I can remember but I'm a flake.  I inherited that trait from my father."

Narrowed eyes.  Take that you bloody pompous twit.

"Miss Strauser, I am not at all interested in where your lack of brains comes from."  Kali forced her jaw to stay shut.  He was going to pay.  "If I didn't know better, I would say that you would be more comfortable as a member of the Hufflepuff house."  Really going to pay.  "Nevertheless, that is correct.  Polyjuice Potion allows a person to take on the appearance of another for a full hour."

"Are you okay?" whispered Ron.  Kali smirked at him and nodded.

"Is that something you would like to share with the class, Mister Weasley?"

What was he doing?  Stalking her?  Gods, man, pay attention to the rest of your class.

"Er - no, sir."

"Ten points from Gryffindor for talking out of line, Weasley.  Do it again and I'll be seeing you in detention as well."

What an arse!  He's just threatening to give Ron detention because he 'escorted me to breakfast'.

Kali hung her head while the rest of the class continued in the same fashion.  By the end of her first Potions lesson, Gryffindor had lost forty points, twenty-five of which had been taken from Ron, who also received detention.  Five were from Neville and the last ten were from Harry.  Kali had been called on numerous times for questions which she didn't know the answer to and Snape had made more Hufflepuff comments than she could take.

"Miss Strauser," he said once the class had been dismissed.  "Please come see me."

A rather ugly blonde that she remembered by the name of Pansy laughed as she walked by Kali.  She instantly decided that this Pansy girl was evil and must be destroyed.

"I'll wait for you outside class, okay?" said Ron.  Kali nodded.

"Good luck," whispered Harry.

The door shut behind her friends and she spun around, hands on her hips, and glaring very pointedly at Snape.

"What was that all about?  Did you have to call on me every other ruddy question when you knew I didn't have the answer?  Did you have to take all those points away from Gryffindor?  Are you always like this?  Were you like this to mum?  And why in bloody blazes did you feel it necessary to give Ron detention?"

Snape folded his fingers and was silent for a second.  "I don't know what you're talking about, Kailah.  That is how I teach my class.  Yes, I had to call on you every other ruddy question.  You have to learn the answers anyway and may I suggest you pick up a few of your Potions textbooks over the next few days."  Kali's nose wrinkled but he went on.  "I only take points from Gryffindor when I see fit.  Yes, I'm always like this, at least with my classes.  No, I wasn't like this to Dru.  And Mister Weasley wouldn't have had detention if he had been paying less attention to you and more attention to the lesson.  He didn't even know how much boomslang skin is needed for Polyjuice Potion."

"I don't know how much boomslang skin is needed for Polyjuice Potion."

"I did say that you should pick up your Potions textbooks.  Miss Granger knew."

"Hermione knows everything."

"Yes, she does, doesn't she?"

"You're just sour because Ron likes me and doesn't like your class."

"Yes, Kailah.  That's exactly it."

"Look, you can hurt Ron all you want if he breaks my fragile, girly heart but until then, please lay off."

"If I were to lie off, things would look suspicious.  Ask your friends.  I was particularly nice in class today.  Be happy you only lost forty points.  Mister Potter and Mister Weasley usually lose more."

Kali folded her arms across her chest.  "Well I can see why they don't like you."

"And it makes me very sad not to be Potter's favorite teacher in the world.  Now about that essay. . ."

Her entire face fell.  "You aren't actually going to make me write it, are you?  You never mentioned an essay."

"I know," he said trying not to laugh.  His amusement made Kali laugh as well.  "I spent the entire summer with you going over my curriculum for the upcoming year and thinking about having to teach you but I never once stopped to let you know that there was an essay due the first class back."

"I almost laughed in class except the tension when you're around is so thick that laughter seems to drown in it."

"Don't worry about the essay.  I'll exempt you from it."

"Thanks."

"No problem.  And Kailah?"

"What?"

"Do refrain from making comments about your stupid genes coming from your father."

"Do refrain from calling me a Hufflepuff."

"I make no promises."

"Neither do I."

"Bugger."

"Love you, too!" she called as she collected her things and waved before sauntering out of the classroom.

Outside of the classroom, Kali could see Ron and Blaise standing side by side and shifting uncomfortably in the other's presence.  She swung her bag over her shoulder and smiled at them both before crossing the hall.

"How did it go?" asked Ron.

"I'm exempt from the essay."

"No points?  No detention?  No essay?"

"Nope," she said, shrugging.  "He was nice to me."

"Um," said Blaise, "Kali?  Can I talk to you?  Privately?"

"Sure.  Ron, why don't you go ahead and I'll catch up with you in a few minutes."  He looked hesitant but then nodded as he reluctantly walked away from Blaise and Kali.  "What's up?  You looked like something was wrong today."

"Something is wrong today.  Walk with me?"

"Okay," she answered and they began to aimlessly wander around the dungeons.

"I guess you heard the fight between Draco and me."  Kali nodded.  "I'm really worried about him.  I - oh gods, don't say anything to him.  The thing is, I don't really have a lot of friends at this school.  In fact, besides Draco, I have none.  I don't really fit in with the Slytherins and no one else wants to associate with a Slytherin.  I guess I'm hoping I can trust you as a friend."

"Of course you can," said Kali.  "What is it?"

"You can't say anything to Draco.  No one else, either."

"I promise."

"Well, when we were going to the hospital wing, I saw the arms of Draco's robes slide up.  I think I'm the only one who saw it, but there were these gashes on his arms.  I think he's cutting himself again."

"Are you sure?"

"I asked him about it and he said he fell in the shower after a bit of hesitation.  I know he's lying."

"You should tell someone about it.  If he's cutting himself, he needs help."

"But he won't listen to me.  He thinks I'm scolding him like a parent figure and I think it's only going to make him want to do it more.  I'd go to a teacher but he'd kill me.  You saw what he did to me in the Great Hall when I started pushing him about his father.  And we don't even know if he's really doing it himself."

"You said you knew he was lying."

"But I don't have any proof."

"Fair enough.  We'll work on that, okay?  And if it turns out that he is cutting himself, then we'll go to Dumbledore."

Blaise hung his head and nodded.  "Okay.  Thanks, Kali."

Does a little dance and points to the 'Review' button.

Go ahead.  You know you want to.

Any issues or problems you may have with some part of the story may be mailed to me at angeldlsm00@hotmail.com.  The Review page is not a place for you to vent or have therapy nor is it a place for you to tell me what you would do differently.  In the immortal words of J.K. Rowling:  Do I think anyone should dictate a single word of what I write?  No.

Wow, I don't know where that attitude came from.