Disclaimer: All the amazing rights of the HP universe belong to JK Rowling.
Karina nattering again; The formatting in 14 did a strange thing with the thank you's in my notes at the beginning. There's that little scrolly bar thing to go to the right and see what names were pushed out of the screen………
-----
Thanks to:
EmptyInBetween, beermats80, Spazzy, no name, Autumsun, eclecticity, Mak6, Shinny.
Malfoy Snogger – I know - they didn't have sex…. How could you Draco? And you didn't even get into Harry's pants! * smile *
----
Anyhoo….. I knew that the previous chapter wouldn't go down all that well but I had said in chapters gone past and re-touched! – that I had planned this story very intricately from beginning to end even before I had begun to write it so…….. and I know you knew that he was going to do the dastardly deed soon…. so it didn't come as a surprise.
If u still like my lil story -then that is great, but if u r annoyed and think it sucks then obviously u stop reading and never click on it ever again….
I wasn't actually going to put this chappie out alone, but seeing as it is done, done, done- I thought I'd let you have it.
It is short, not my usual dissertation but it isn't meant to be either – it's kind of a filler in between 14 and 16.
But u can read it if u want to….
*****
Draco had stayed in the room long after Harry had gone. Harry hadn't even banged the door shut. He had let it close behind him.
He hadn't even banged the door.
Draco sunk down onto the couch. A deadened feeling filtered throughout his body and he was still trembling. His fingers were icy and he could see them quivering. He folded them into his palms and sat with his fists clenched for a while - waiting for his heart to slow down and begin to beat again, waiting for his lungs to start working properly again. That had been the most upsetting fight he had ever had. It had been awful.
But it was for the best. Wasn't it?
Draco had to believe that. He had done this for his parents, his dad. His parents were the most important people to him and he couldn't disappoint them – could he? There was too much at stake wasn't there?
He felt his eyes burn and he took in a long gulp. This had to be done and he had done it. Granted it had gone appallingly, but messy as it was – it was over. That's what you wanted isn't it? He looked around the room, at the couch he was sat on, at the desk. He suddenly envisioned himself and Harry sitting and talking and laughing, and kissing………..
He made hurriedly out of the room and into the corridor. He stood there for a moment, resting his head back against the door. He felt weak; his legs just did not want to stand anymore- they were shaking that badly. He placed his hands flat against the wooden surface and stood frozen in his place. A few minutes passed and he realised that someone might see him and wander what on earth he was doing there in that position. Anyhow he shouldn't be here, it didn't feel right. It was just an empty room and he had no place for it anymore. He wandered if anyone had heard them shouting, but it seemed quite quiet. He didn't really care though, not now that it was over.
He walked to the landing slowly and reached the staircase. There was nobody around and he was a lone figure making his way downstairs. You were never really alone though- the people in the paintings were always moving and shifting around. They must have seen a lot over the years he thought. How many secrets were they keeping? Draco had no doubt that they had watched everything that had passed before them. One of them must have seen him and Harry together. Wander if you could use a painting's evidence in court?
Draco drifted down the stairs sluggishly, as if he didn't want to reach the bottom at all. He hadn't wanted to reach the sixth floor earlier either. He had the weirdest feeling in the pit of his stomach.
As he neared the third floor, there were students now walking to and fro, up and down the stairs and corridors. No one paid Draco any attention and he was thankful. He kept his head down and reached the Entrance Hall, opting to go out rather than go down to the common room. It wasn't a particularly cold evening and he walked over near to the greenhouses. There was a bench just behind one and it was empty. He sat down gratefully and waited for his knees to stop knocking together.
He took in a deep breath of cold, fresh air. He felt edgy and unsettled. As if he wanted to rip and claw his skin off and adopt a new one. Something didn't feel right inside. In fact everything felt wrong even after he had done the deed that he had set out to do. He felt like his insides had been torn out and placed back in all the wrong places. He felt dizzy and wholly uncomfortable. He could hear the argument still ringing loudly in his ears and he desperately tried to block out the words. He hadn't broken up with Harry, they hadn't been going out had they? And it was all just a bit of fun wasn't it? It didn't mean anything really - had it? Perhaps it had all been a joke, an act……
Harry would be all right. He could go back to hating him again and they would get over this glitch. And anyway, I should be concentrating on my studies, Draco thought. They were important.
He looked at his watch. It was dinnertime. His eyes wandered over to the Quidditch pitch. Images were starting to replay in his head and he got up hastily smoothing down his cloak.
Food - that would keep him occupied.
There were already people seated in the Great Hall, and he sat down in his usual place. His eyes searched for Harry, he couldn't help himself. There was Weasley, Granger, and Longbottom (who had caused the previous argument he'd had with Harry). Draco glowered at him revolted. Stupid, lumbering, pathetic little shite. I hate every single one of you, Draco thought, looking at the Gryffindor sixth years.
Where was Harry?
He wasn't there.
He hadn't come to dinner yet.
Someone sat down next to him.
'Where were you Draco?'
Oh god, don't make me talk. I don't want to talk. Not now.
His tongue felt dry and thick as it lay in his mouth.
I've already said enough.
He turned and it was Gregory reaching for the roast chicken.
'Studying,' Draco said shortly, forcing the word out.
As if Gregory had even heard the concept of studying. How he had passed anything in his life was a minor miracle in Draco's eyes.
Draco clenched his jaw and reached for the bowls – he wasn't hungry at all. He was eating for the sake of eating. He stared for a long moment at his fork before he stabbed it into the beefsteak. He chewed and chewed and soon he was starting to gag. It felt like rubber. He ate mechanically, just chewing and swallowing and not tasting. He drunk some water and looked again to see if Harry had come in yet.
He hadn't.
All his stupid friends were here and he wasn't.
' Are you ok Draco?'
He hadn't even noticed Blaise was sitting next to him on the other side.
' I'm fine, why?'
She shrugged,' you're frowning that's why, scowling in fact. Your face looks like thunder, you look….weird. You had an argument with someone?'
Draco stared at his plate. For someone as shallow as Blaise, she had certainly hit the nail on the head. He was screwing up everything today. He couldn't even mask his own emotions; someone as dense as bloody Blaise had been able to read him.
' No I haven't,' he said,' I just did a lot of revision and you know, just feel tired.'
That mollified her and she went back to being shallow again.
She was starting to talk and he switched her off. Everyone just shut the fuck up. He had told Harry to shut up how many times?
Shut up.
Shut up.
Shut up.
Draco felt a horrifying lump in his throat rise again and he furiously tried to gulp it down with more water. Drink it down. Go away.
He didn't pause for a breath as he pushed more water harshly down his throat, draining his goblet.
I swore at him so much. So much.
He was so angry –he even swore back. He never swears.
Draco felt something give way, as if he was falling. As if the ground was crumbling beneath his chair and his feet were losing grip with the stone floor. God, It was so noisy in the room, so many bright colours and too much light and it was all wrong. Just wrong. He felt claustrophobic and hot. All these people like garish blurs in front of his face. Why was everyone talking so loud? The cutlery was too dazzling; it was glinting evilly and he felt his stomach lurch.
He had to get out of here.
He wiped his mouth with his napkin and scraped his chair back.
' You're finished already?' Blaise looked up at him questioningly and he nodded.
'I think I'll just have an early night.'
He didn't stick around to see her response. He bumped into several people as he walked unseeingly out of the room.
Please get out of my way, he thought.
He took in a tremulous breath as he stood in the outside hall for a second. He then got his feet to lift and started to walk. There was no one around as he went down towards the Slytherin house. Everyone was busy stuffing his or her face. Except Harry.
His heart was thudding ponderously in his ribcage and his chest felt tight. He could feel a twinge as he breathed in and out. Maybe he had a stitch? Maybe he was ill. He could be coming down with something; that's why he felt so terrible.
He got to his room and sat on his bed loosening his tie. It was choking him, suffocating him. He pulled it away roughly from his neck and looked at it thoughtfully. Harry's tie was red and gold. Harry's eyes were green. Harry had a dimple.
Draco lay back on his bed and shut his eyes.
More green. Everything was green. That's all he could see swirling in front of his closed lids.
Harry's eyes had been so full of pain that Draco had hardly dared to meet them.
He had the oddest desire to scream suddenly, really loudly for no reason at all. Scream until his throat was so raw that he could barely speak again. Why?
He shook his head and sat back up again quickly shedding his clothes and throwing them on the floor. He pulled on his pyjama bottoms and shut his curtains. The sheets were cold as he slipped into them and drew the blanket over the top near his face. He shivered slightly as he lay still and quiet.
Lights out and the room went dark.
He closed his eyes tightly; there was no point keeping them open. It would still be just darkness that he saw.
Harry hadn't even been at dinner. He hadn't eaten anything. He'd be hungry tonight.
Draco smothered his face into his pillow. If he breathed in very deeply, he imagined he could still smell the faintest trace of Harry. He suddenly reached out his hand over the side of the bed and felt for his jumper on the floor. His hands searched for a moment and then he found it. He brought it up and held it to his nose and breathed in the scent, inhaling deeply. Harry had leaned against his chest earlier, the jumper still slightly smelt of him. Draco curled it around the pillow and buried his face in it.
His eyes were burning again in their closed sockets and he sniffed hard and swallowed down fiercely.
Harry.
Draco hurt. He was hurting. I did it for the best, he thought again, over and over. Then why was he feeling like this? If you are the one who ends it, then you don't get to be the one who is upset. You didn't have the right to.
His breath was hardly squeezing out of his seemingly vacant lungs, and he felt empty, hollow. Like he had poured himself dry somewhere.
Where had all of Harry's breath gone? It had vanished……….
I don't have anything of him……
Where did it go? How could breath be so fickle? He couldn't feel it anywhere. He had meant to keep a bit of Harry at least. But you couldn't hold such breath in your hands; you couldn't encase it in a box. It floated and wafted and touched, but you couldn't hold onto it.
I wasted all his breath by words, by shouting. I didn't keep anything of his inside of me, Draco thought woodenly.
It all escaped out of my mouth, I let it go, I let it all go….
He tried to blank his mind of everything, all the words and feelings, numb it all and concentrate on going to sleep.
Sleep,
Just
Go
To
Sleep…………….