Draco Malfoy

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"A butterfly under the glass

You are beautiful

But you're not going anywhere

We do the same thing every night

I swear I've heard this song before

A swimmer who has seen a shark

I should really be more wary of the water

You came, you saw, you conquered

Everyone

And I'm left here guessing

Oh, what went wrong?

Yeah, I'm down

But not out, and far from done

Hey all! Beware criminal

A prism with an intellect

You throw your light selectively

You stole my glow, a seasoned thief

The blacks of my eyes are turning into opals

Today, I walk

There's nothing here left for me but empty promises

And the thought of all the things I'm never getting back

You came, you saw, you conquered

Everyone

And I'm left here guessing

What went wrong?

Yeah, I'm down

But not out, and far from done

Hey all! Beware criminal.

Did you think I wouldn't notice?

Did you think I wouldn't care?

Beware criminal!"

'Beware! Criminal!' Incubus

*~*~*~*~*~*I~*~*~*~*~

Draco slowly made his way up the main staircase towards Dumbledore's office, afraid of what their impending meeting could be about. Draco had spent the last week in a mental state of hell, his mind full to the brim with anxieties and worries about Hermione and Sam. However, as each uneventful, murder free day passed, Draco knew the day of the inevitable occurring grew closer. Just the thought of this had sent Draco's condition back tenfold, he couldn't sleep, and he couldn't eat. All he could do was worry. He was slowly going insane. Draco rounded another corner, almost slamming into a third year Hufflepuff.

"Watch it." He spat viciously, the girl cowered back and run the opposite way down the corridor. Draco looked back at her sneering before shoving his hands in his pockets as he continued his brisk pace towards the Headmaster's office. Draco took a sharp left, his destination now only several feet away when he collided into another person, knocking them to the floor. Draco was prepared to shoot an equally mean comment when he looked down to realize it was Hermione. She looked up at him, her warm brown eyes widened as she scrambled to her feet. She shot him an uncomfortable smile and tried to walk past Draco, but he instinctively grabbed her hand. Why was she near the Headmaster's office? Draco asked himself.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked her, his voice low. Hermione squeezed the books in her arms tightly to her chest as if she was uncomfortable. Draco stared at her, waiting for her to answer to diminish his fear, but she remained silent.

"What are you doing up here?" he asked again, the tone of his voice lowering to a pitch that even made him uncomfortable. He knew he was scaring Hermione, but for some odd reason he continued. She deserves it. Draco could hear his inner voices snarl. She had betrayed him; she knew how much he loved her, and she still opted to chose Sam over him. What did Sam have that he didn't? Just the thought that Hermione could reject and deny the past that they shared to be with someone she had known only for a few months sickened him with jealously. It sickened him with toxic jealousy, malice hate and pure rage. A rage burning so bright and so deep, he didn't care if he was intimidating or terrifying Hermione just by his mere presence. He wanted to see her squirm, so she'd know how much she was hurting him. Draco was the child with the magnifying glass on a hot summer day, and Hermione was the poor black ant on the pavement. "Answer me." He snarled, his tone equally gruff, as it was low.

"Nothing." Hermione managed to squeak. Draco stared down at her, his analytical eyes locking onto her soft ones. The pair stood in silence for what seemed like an eternity, before Draco leaned down, his hands on her pink cheeks, and brushed his lips softly against her's. He could feel Hermione stiffen then jump back in surprise. He smirked at her, knowing he had succeeded in making her uncomfortable, he could feel his hands slightly hesitate for this would be the last time he'd lay eyes on Hermione. His mind stumbled thinking of what would be appropriate to say, what would follow her for the rest of her days, leaving his memory instilled within her. What could he say that would sum up years of confusion, intensity, betrayal, jealously and love? He knew exactly what to say, he could feel the warmness of her cheeks slowly evade his hands as he removed them and placed them hesitantly at his sides.

"I love you, but it's okay to let me go." He whispered; Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide, as she looked back up at him in confusion. Draco casually stepped out of her way and shot her an eerie strange smile before turning around and continuing to walk towards the Headmasters office. Draco walked past a lavish Grandfather clock, taking note of the last time he was to walk down that corridor. He knew it was time, time to get away from Hogwarts.

When he arrived at the painting where Dumbledore's office was hidden, Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape stood by it, both their faces contorted into a strange scowl. They did not utter a word to Draco, they simply muttered the password and stepped onto the elevator that led to the Headmaster's office. Draco followed them; he did not care anymore what this meeting was about. They are dying to send me to Azkaban, but I won't let them. Draco thought firmly to himself, he was in control of his fate now. He was going to do it at six-sixteen on the dot, the same time he came into the world, and he was going to take himself out of it.

When the three of them finally stepped into Dumbledore's circular office, Draco was surprised at the small crowd gathered in the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore sat at his desk donning a somber look upon his usual jovial face. A scowling Fudge stood by Dumbledore's side, Belinda Castlerock stood by Fudge with a look of horror upon her face, and beside Fudge was Mr. McGougan, who Draco immediately recognized. Draco felt his heart skip a beat when he heard a familiar voice.

"Draco, you know why we're all here don't you?" the voice called. Draco's gray eyes immediately located the owner of the voice, he was emerging from behind a strange bookcase; it was Vincent Barboyle. Draco attempted to fight the lump that was rising in his throat, if there was one person he couldn't lie to; it was Vincent Barboyle. The man seemed to know exactly how his mind ticked, and that was only the tip of the iceberg for reasons why Draco feared him so. Draco opened his mouth to speak, but nothing but a weird croak escaped. Barboyle walked out further towards Dumbledore's desk. Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape remained by his side as McGonagall conjured up a chair for him to sit in.

"Please sit Mr. Malfoy." The elderly Headmaster commanded. Draco silently obliged, keeping his eyes down avoided all the pairs of eyes settled on him.

"Draco, do you remember the conversation you and I had about loyalty?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes twinkling mysteriously. Draco looked down avoiding his intent gaze, avoiding everyone's, his mind still focused on six' o clock. He'd be headed to the Astronomy Tower, the tallest tower at Hogwarts.

"Yes sir." Draco muttered indistinctly. He could hear Fudge snort loudly, but he still refused to look up at them, their faces probably all wearing the same look of disapproval. He'd be crawling up unto the ledge of the Astronomy tower. Maybe if he leaped out far enough, a strong wind will carry him off into oblivion, away from Hogwarts. On the other hand, perhaps it'll just be an eerie stillness before a loud thump would resonate through the cold February air.

"I understand that your father was a Deatheater. Am I correct?" Draco could hear Barboyle ask him. His body was there in the office; frozen and slumped over in the oak chair, but his mind was standing on the ledge of the tower, arms outstretched, eyes closed, and heart beating slowly. The moment was drawing closer; he had twenty minutes.

"You know that." Draco replied gravely. He could hear Fudge snort again, and a weary sigh escape Dumbledore's lips. Draco wondered how long he'd be free falling, and what it would feel like to feel absolutely nothing.

"Well, let's not beat around the bush shall we? Professor Dumbledore has received a tip that yourself and several other of your classmates have been initiated as Death Eaters by he-who-must-not-be-named. True?" Barboyle asked quite stiffly, his usual warm voice was bland and monotone. Draco closed his eyes; he could hear Barboyle's voice waver in disappointment. A gasp escaped Belinda Castlerock's mouth as if she was horrified by the mere thought that this could be true. Draco could not look up at it, for it was true. Draco hesitantly pulled up his sleeve and stuck out his forearm. Every adult in the room save for Snape and Professor Dumbledore seemed to be taken aback in disgust by the mark emblazoned into Draco's skin. Belinda Castlerock let out a shrill shriek before falling to the floor. Professor McGonagall swiftly swooped over to her side and helped the witch to her feet.

"Draco, we need for you to give us the names of the classmates who were initiated with you." Dumbledore replied after everyone in the room had regained their composure. Draco stared back at the mob before him, his body was there physically, but his mind was somewhere else. He'd wonder if there was some sort of an afterlife, and if he had lived his life well enough to go there.

"I can't do that…" Draco muttered, his voice soft. He avoided Barboyle's intensive gaze, instead he kept his eyes on his knees, thinking of what he was about to commit.

"You will be protected Mr. Malfoy. No one will harm you, Mr. McGougan has offered to let you stay in his home in Ireland, all you have to do is give us the names of the people involved and the details of the initiation."  Fudge said, the Minister of Magic speaking for the first time since Draco had arrived. Draco closed his eyes, he could feel the beat of his heart quicken, and his breaths becoming much heavier. He no longer had the will to live, to keep on pushing, to endure any more. There was too much wrong in his life, he had to get away from it, to save himself, to save his soul. He looked up at the mass of adults in front of him, knowing that he was disappointing every one of them.

"I…" Draco could feel himself stammer, he looked up at Professor Dumbledore, his deep gray eyes meeting his. "I've been trying to ignore the fact that the Dark Lord has loomed over my life for years now." Draco paused, "He's loomed over my family, he's loomed over my father, and he's loomed over me. Me telling you the name of a few prats that were initiated beside me won't do anything, we all are replaceable. He'll find new Deatheaters, he'll torture, and lie, and kill to get what he wants. Can't you see it Headmaster, we're all his pawns, and we're all apart of his conundrum. It's like a game of chess, who cares about losing a pawn or two, when you've still got your king?" Draco said softly, speaking heart to heat to the much older man in front of him. He could feel the aging man's big bright blue eyes boring into his as he sat back in his chair, his hand running through his long wispy beard. Fudge let out another loud snort; he had clearly had enough.

"This is ridiculous, Albus he's clearly a threat to the student body here at Hogwarts. Let's send him to Azkaban before it's too late." Fudge snapped harshly, he looked down at an expressionless Draco; a firm frown upon his face. Draco could feel his heart skip a beat, They can't control your life anymore Draco, you're in control. He could feel his voices repeat.

"Let's not the rash Minister, he's only a child!" Barboyle snapped loudly. Draco looked up at Barboyle, never disagreeing with him more. He only wished he could be a carefree child again, for his days and nights were weighed down by the stress of love lost, loved ones lost, an entire life lost, his entire being lost. He was an empty shell, his inner workings dropped off along different points on his path to oblivion.

" A child who bears the dark mark! There's no such thing!" Fudge snapped back turning to face a red faced Barboyle, launching a quarrel between all the adults in the room. Professor McGongugal was still attending to an inconsolable Belinda Castlerock, while Professor Snape and Mr. McGougan were trying to convince Fudge that someone Draco's age did not belong in wizarding prison. Fudge and Barboyle continued to throw harsh words and snide comments towards each other, Fudge continuously touching on the subject of Barboyle wasting his time studying Muggle diseases, however Dumbledore remained in his chair, his eyes still on Draco. Draco watched the headmaster give him a strange nod as if he was reading his mind. Draco slowly rose to shaky feet and turned to exit the room, he didn't expect to make it to the door, but he did. He didn't expect to make it out of the office, but he did, he didn't expect to be climbing the tall ladder to the Astronomy tower but he had, however he did not notice three pairs of footsteps following him, each pair hot on each other's tail. He had reached the end, he could feel his insides shiver, but he wasn't sure if it was from his nerves or the bone crunching cold of the February air. Draco slowly made his way to the ledge, his eyes glued straight on the setting sun in the horizon.

Draco placed both tremulous hands on the cold stone of the ledge and slowly lifted himself upon it. He raised his left arm to stare at his plain wristwatch; it was 6:14. He inhaled sharply, trying his best to keep his mind blank, trying to fight back the fear that now was attacking his soul. He speculated how long it would take someone to find him after he was gone. He also wondered if anyone would miss him, but quickly dismissed the thought. Who would miss anyone like me? Draco asked himself trying to silence the doubt within. There's nothing left for me anymore, his life was in ruins, nothing was left. Everything dear to him was gone, including Hermione.

Draco slowly rose to his feet; the cold air began to blow furiously, sending strange howls through the dusk air. He wiped away at the tears that were beginning to pour down his cheeks, trying to erase all of his thoughts, he was preparing himself for his own demise. He could hear the quiet ticking of the clock beating simultaneously with the beating of his heart, he could feel his mouth go dry, and his breathing become more constricted as he struggled to fight the fear and doubt. Nothing for you here. He could hear his thoughts scream; he had never been in such a state of despair. Draco looked down at his watch as the second hand clicked forward, it was time, Draco bent his knees preparing himself to leap forward, but they wouldn't respond, he was frozen in apprehension and uncertainty.  Do it Draco, do it! The voices within his head piped up. You're worthless! Another one screamed. They know what you are now; you can't hide anymore! Bail! A deeper, more haunting one screamed. Draaco! The voices hissed together, their calls shrilling and provoking terror inside of the young man standing on the ledge, with both arms outstretched ready to jump.  Draco! They called to him repeatedly, Draco knew they weren't real, but why was he so convinced that jumping was the right thing? What about Hermione? He could hear a saner side of him ask, You've lost Hermione you fool, and she doesn't care anymore. Another deeper voice snapped, Draco moaned in terror, the voices within his head were engaging in a full out duality duel, but the hissing, shrilling, haunting, and chilling negative voices droned this smaller more practical one out. Draco wiped away at the tears that were pouring freely out of his eyes as he bent his knees again in preparation to jump. Draco could almost feel himself fall forward when he felt a strange invisible force wrapped itself around his abdomen and pulled him back, Draco bent down, clutching onto the ledge for security, he turned around to face the person who prevented his fall.

"Don't do it…please." The person moaned. Draco looked at her, it was Hermione, his heart unsure of either to go on or to give up and die off.

"Hermione let me do this!" Draco screamed at her, his face was bright red from the cold. Hermione clutched onto her wand and slowly scuffled forward towards the ledge.

"I know I've betrayed your trust, but it can't be this bad. Draco, there's nothing awful enough worth taking your life over! Nothing!" Hermione screamed over the howling wind, tears flowing down her cheeks. Draco bowed his head wishing of nothing more then to simply wither and melt away, his remains being blown and dispersed by the wind, gone forever. All he ever did was cause Hermione pain, no matter what he did, he hurt her, and he was sick of it. It would be best if he would disappear from her life all together, he bit his lip before speaking, making sure to avoid her tear filled eyes.

"Hurting you is worth my life. I'd give up my entire being for you Hermione, let me do this!" Draco pleaded with her, the wind causing his tear-filled eyes to string. Hermione edged closer to Draco, trying to fight the body jerking sobs that were attacking her.

"You're asking me to let you kill yourself! I can't do that! I can't watch you ruin your life! Just step off the ledge! Don't do this to me, please!" Hermione beseeched with him in between sobs, she clutched onto her wand with so much force her knuckles were turning white.

"If you really love me you'd let me go!" Draco countered back, trying to find a somewhat legitimate reason for Hermione to leave. He couldn't bear to tell her that he no longer contained the will to live within his tired body. Too much had happened to him in such a short period of time, it was like everything was falling apart around him, while he still remained standing, left to try to hold up the remnants of his life upon his already weakened shoulders.

"If you really loved me, you'd step away from the ledge Draco and get help!" Hermione shouted over the blowing wind. Draco closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before speaking, his hands were still gripped tightly around the stone ledge.

"You know that I love you Hermione, I will always love you, and the sad thing is, I know you don't love me back. You'll be better off with me gone." Draco replied, his voice full of sorrow. Hermione shook her head furiously as if Draco had just slapped her in the face with his words.

"Draco, I love you so much it's terrifying. Stop thinking so ridiculously and get down Draco! Get down!" She shouted her voice dropping an entire octave. Draco remained frozen as he stared at her. Just watching her in pain broke his heart into two, but if she loved him, why was she with Sam? Why wouldn't she leave with him? Draco bit his lip; his world didn't make sense anymore.

"If you love me 'Mione, why didn't you choose to leave with me when I asked you?" he asked her, his voice trembling. The wind began to howl more furiously then ever, causing Draco to grip onto the ledge even tighter, he bowed his head, suddenly feeling to urge to respect Hermione's wishes and step down from the ledge.

"I…" Hermione stammered, Draco could feel a frown spread across his face when he heard a slight rustling over the howling of the wind, his eyes lingered over to the ladder as a silhouette emerged from it, Draco sneered; it was Sam.

"Sam…" Draco muttered. Hermione continued to face Draco, wiping furiously at the tears pouring down her cheeks.

"No Draco! This isn't about Sam!" Hermione snapped, her voice resonating over the winds loud howls, "I mean," Hermione continued, this time her tone much softer, "It's not the fact that I'm with Sam, Draco, you can't run from your problems! Your doing the same thing your parents did Draco, and look what their deaths did to you, do you want to do that to me? I love you, can't you see?" she pleaded with him. Draco swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat as he thought over what Hermione said, he slowly sat down on the ledge and off it, his eyes remaining glued on Sam's dark figure as it drew closer to them. Draco looked down, as he reached forward towards Hermione who let out a small whimper before collapsing into his arms. Draco embraced her, a tang of guilt washing over him as he watched Sam look on in horror, his deep voice cutting through the strange howling of the wind.

"Hermione." He barked gruffly. Draco could feel Hermione stiffen in his arms, before she pulled away and looked at Sam. She choked back a sob and looked down at her feet.

"What are you doing up here Sam?" she asked softly, trying to avoid Sam's hurt gaze. Draco however kept his eyes locked upon Sam as the three teenagers stood there, the only noise were the intensifying shrieks of the wind. 

"I followed you," Sam paused, looking up at the pair of them, a look of pure contempt on his face. "I don't understand the two of you, Hermione, how can you tell me one minute how much you love me, then turn around and say the same exact thing to Draco, I'm sick of this shit!" Sam snapped haughtily, Draco kept his eyes locked on Sam, not noticing a third figure emerging from the ladder and ducking behind a stone gargoyle.

"Don't talk to her like that." Draco said, his voice low. He had stepped off the ledge, but not away from it. He knew he'd rather die then return to Hogwarts and carry on his mediocre life, for he knew Hermione did not wish to be with him. Sam turned to look at Draco, his eyes wide in fury, Draco knew this was no longer a person he could call a friend, he had hurt him too much. Draco only wished that an apology could put them on good terms before the ending of his life, but Sam would never accept it, what Draco had done to him was inexcusable. Draco sighed knowing that Sam was unaware of what would soon be in store for him once Draco was gone.

"Who the hell do you think you are Draco? You've been parading yourself off as my fucking friend this whole entire time, when really you've just been shagging my girlfriend behind my back. The other bloody prats at this school might let you walk over them, but I won't let you do it to me too. Hermione is fucking mine, why won't you bloody back off and mind your own business." Sam scoffed. Draco could feel his eyes sink in guilt, for he knew he deserved almost every spiteful word Sam had spat at him. He looked over at a crying Hermione; she seemed too horrified to speak.

"I am your friend Sam…" Draco replied his voice low, trying his best to calm Sam, but this seemed to set the young Australian off more.

"Friends don't deceive and betray one another." Sam barked as he walked up to Draco, and pushed him forcefully, sending Draco rearing backward. Draco fell to the floor with a loud smack, he groaned as he slowly rose to his feet, attempting to raise both his hands in a sign of surrender, but Sam would not surrender. Draco watched in horror as Sam's face contorted into one of pure rage, as his fist tightened, and as he directed it straight into his jaw, Draco winced, the force of the blow sent him soaring backwards, a loud crack cut through the dawn hair as he smacked his head against the ledge of the Astronomy Tower. Draco could feel tears of pain stinging his eyes, as he reached up disoriented to touch the now gaping wound in the back of his head. Draco moaned in pain as he looked up at his fingers, which were dripping in blood, he looked around, but the blow to his head had impaired his vision drastically. His world was now blurry, spinning around him violently, he could feel Hermione's cold, and shaky hands wrap around him, and the pain in the back of his head increase. Draco winced, trying to sit up, but the blow had knocked him silly. Draco leaned forward and hesitantly crawled to his feet, wobbling hastily to and fro, putting his hand on his head. His eyes however seemed to travel past a pacing Sam, who was now approaching him muttering obscenities as if he was going to attack him again, Draco winced prepared for a blow when a jet of bright blue light came out of nowhere and hit Hermione. Draco and Sam instinctively reached for their wands, but it was too late. Hermione fell to the ground bone stiff; she had been stunned.

Before either of the two shell-shocked boys had the chance to jinx whomever had hexed the now immobile Hermione, he had stepped out of the shadows and disarmed them. Draco suddenly snapped out of his temporary stupor, looking up at Blaise Zabini. He stared up at him in amazement, but then in horror; for he knew what Blaise was intending to look.

"Sam Austin…" Blaise seethed, his eyes squinting from the bright orange light being radiated from the murky sunset. "Sam, superstar, fucking Austin. We meet again." He smirked at Sam, almost forgetting Draco's presence; he looked down jovially at the three wands in his hand, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. Draco swallowed the lump rising in his throat as he fought back the pain, he remembered Sam's haunting comment a week prior, I just want to be somebody in life. He knew Blaise thought of killing Sam Austin as the ultimate right of passage, and he would do anything to earn the good favors of the Dark Lord.

"Blaise, you don't want a repeat of our duel. It be wise if you just gave me back my wand…" Sam said slowly as he lifted both hands in the air in surrender. Draco could feel his heart beating almost out of his chest as Blaise looked on at Sam with a look of pure hate on his face.

"I've always wanted to do this Sam, ever since you paraded into Hogwarts like you own the fucking place, trying to manipulate Draco into thinking I'm not his real friend, but guess what Sam?" Blaise asked haughtily. Sam looked up at Draco before looking back at Blaise, a strange smug look spread across his face. Draco stared at him, wishing nothing more than to stop what was going to happen, but he was defenseless, the pain from the back of his skull was intensifying tenfold.

"Draco knows where he belongs now. Do you have any last words before I kill you?" Blaise asked ruthlessly. Draco could feel his heart sink, he could feel Sam's eyes lock onto his, but Draco couldn't bear to look up into his eyes. Sam was the best friend he ever had, he wanted nothing more than to defend him, but he didn't. He slowly raised the left sleeve of his arm, revealing the Dark Mark emblazoned on his skin, the mark burned a deep black. Sam's eyes widened in fear, as Blaise's cold voice echoed loudly through the dusk of the countryside, "Avada Kedavra." He muttered, and as quickly, as Sam had appeared in Draco's life he was gone. Blaise's curse hit him quickly, causing Sam to slightly slump to the cold floor of the tower; Sam Austin was dead. For a millisecond, the only sound was the wind blowing fiercely in the cold winter night. In a surge of sudden gut-wrenching guilt, Draco fell to his knees, all his emotions locked up inside of him, as he laid his a hand on Sam's cold chest, hoping, praying that Blaise did not have enough hate pent up inside of him to kill, but he did. Draco could feel no heartbeat; Draco slowly removed his hand from Sam's dead body, as Blaise broke out into a dry evil laugh, a laugh so harsh it almost sounded like he was giggling in pure joy at the fact that Sam was dead.

Draco looked up at Hermione's comatose body, his heart in shock, as an anger emerged from deep within him, he was feeling shock and a feeling of pure rage simultaneously. Blaise continued to laugh as he walked over to Sam's limp body, Blaise leaned down to slip Sam's now useless wand in the front pocket of his black robes before rising to his feet, then stood up and tossed Draco his wand, his eyes wide in a state of sick elation. Draco caught the wand, but he was too paralyzed to move again.

 "How about, two star-crossed lovers attempt suicide together?" he could hear Blaise say. However, he was not listening. His could feel his fingers clench tightly around the thin wood of his wand, the beads of perspiration being emitted from the palms of his hands made his wand quite slippery in his grip.

"Help me." Blaise's voice said coldly, "Mobilicorpus." Blaise muttered softly with a flick of his wand, causing Sam's lifeless body to rise, Blaise flicked the wand again as the corpse floated precariously towards the ledge of the Astronomy tower. Blaise looked over at Draco, realizing that he hadn't uttered the incantation to pick up Hermione.

"Do it Draco…" Blaise growled. Draco looked up at the seething Slytherin before him trying his best to keep his composure. "It's the past! She's your past, move on to your future and do it Draco!" Sam snapped; his voice was beginning to fill with a strange panic. 

"We'll get caught, you can't hesitate. You're risking everyone when you're doing this! Pick her up!" his urgings resonated through Draco's stone cold veins. He was in a strange silent fury, he was fighting to keep his composure, for on the outside, he was vacant but on the inside, twenty explosions were going off all at once. He had never hated something or someone so much enough to want to kill them; not even is father. He lifted his wand, Blaise's eyes widened in surprise.

"Avada Kedavra." He muttered. Draco looked on expressionless as Blaise's body slumped to the ground, similar to the fashion that Sam had earlier, Sam's limp body, with no incantation controlling it, fell, and several seconds later a loud thump resonated through the cold early evening air. Draco looked down at Blaise's body stonily as he tried to absorb what he had just committed, Blaise Zabini, the boy whom he had called his best friend for so long was dead, dead at the hands of Draco Malfoy. Draco could feel his eyes linger to the ledge, for he knew what was next. He walked over to Hermione's limp body, leaned forward, and kissed her cold pink lips, whispering his final goodbye. Draco did not know what led him to do this, but his lips formed the words to a poem he had heard long ago, a poem with so much meaning, the words silently and sweetly came back to him, as if the words were his own. Draco softly kissed her again after he finished his last words, but when it was time to part, time for his deed to be done, he could feel himself linger over her, wishing he could remain with her forever, but she'd be safer with him long gone.  Draco stood up, turning away from Hermione, swallowing the rising lump in his throat as he walked towards the ledge, afraid to look over the edge, he kept his eyes dead set on the now starless night sky, the sun had finally disappeared from the horizon. His grip tightened around his wand as he reached out towards the sky with a quavering hand.

"Morsmordre." Draco whispered, the incantation sent out a strange green spark, and in the sky before him appeared the dark mark, the mark blazed a bright green in the now dark blue night sky. Draco closed his eyes, his wand tightly clutched in his hand, well prepared to use it. The cool night wind was blowing through his hair; he could feel a single tear roll down his cheek, as he leaped forward into the darkness.

c "I I'd like to close my eyes go numb, but there's a cold wind coming from, the top of the highest high rise today. It's not a breeze cause it blows hard and it wants me to discard the humanity I know, and watch the warmth blow away. Don't let the world bring you down, not everyone here is that fucked up and cold, remember why you came, and while your alive, experience the warmth before you grow old./I"/c

The Warmth- Incubus

Hermione Granger

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"The boy is gone

The boy has gone home

What would happen to a face when the crowd

When it finally gets to crowded

And what would happen to the origins of sound

After all the sound has sounded

Well I hope I never have to see the day

But by god I know it's headed our way

So I better be happy now

That the boy is going home

The boy has gone home

What becomes of a day for those that rage against it?

And who would sum up the phrase for all left standing round in it

Well I suppose I'll make a judgment cause

We'll walk it alone, stand up tall, then march to the fall

We better be happy now,

We'll all go home

I tried to live my life

I lived it so well

But when it's all over

Is it heaven or is it hell?

Better be happy now that no one can tell

No body knows

I'm going to be happy with the way that I am

I'm going to be happy with all that I stand for

I'm going to be happy now that the boy is going home

The boy has gone home."

'The Boy's Gone' Jason Mraz

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Hermione noiselessly stepped into the front compartment of the Hogwarts express, looking behind her instinctively before making her way down the small corridors of the train. Hermione kept her head low, and her eyes straight ahead, she could feel the constant glares from the students in each compartment as she walked to the back of the train where the prefects compartment was located.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she finally reached the Prefect's compartment of the train. The compartment was empty save for a quiet fifth year prefect that Hermione had only seen during prefect meetings. Hermione gave the quiet boy a small smile before sitting down across from him, she usually never sat in the Prefect's compartment, but she had to get away, away from the looks and the stares, away from the mock sympathy, away from the curious prying eyes.  It had been like that, ever since that night. A scathing Eva fueled the rumors about the evening when three Hogwarts students died, and the one person who survived, Hermione could feel her insides clench at the thought of the girl who had almost single-handedly. Hermione was not one to blame people, but at times she often found herself blaming Eva for losing Sam and Draco. If she hadn't of carried on in a lust driven relationship with Harry, and if she didn't have a drinking problem, she wouldn't have drank that night of the ball. She would have never exposed Draco and Hermione's dirty secret for all to hear, she wouldn't have encouraged Draco to join up with the Deatheaters, and he would have never went up to the Astronomy Tower that awful night. However, Hermione knew most likely she would never see Eva again, shortly after the haunting events of that windy February night, Eva's father showed up at Hogwarts telling her to pack her things. He had decided on a strange whim that it would be thrilling to live in India.

She leaned down and massaged the exuberantly decorated guitar case she had carried into the compartment underneath her arm; it belong to Sam, it was given to her by Sam's mother, Jane, after a particularly teary eyed meeting four days after a fifth year had found Sam's body. Hermione could feel her heart sink, as she felt another pang of sadness hit her. It had been months since that awful night, still every detail haunted her every waking thoughts. For the first month, she relied heavily on dreamless sleep potions she had brewed with stolen ingredients from Snape's office, until one chilly late winter day when Snape had caught her. The encounter was odd, for Snape did not punish her, he didn't even take points away from Gryffindor, he merely flashed her a sad pitiful look like he had understood why she was seeking such desperate measures to erase her dreams; anyone would, they were that horrible. Hermione sighed as she ran her hand through her hair, brushing back a few strands of hair that had fallen into her face; the thought of leaving Hogwarts was actually soothing. She would no longer have sit in Potions class and look at the three empty seats scattered about the room. She would no longer have to walk past the small hallway by the main staircase where she would often see Sam and Draco. She would no longer have to trek through the corridors, imagining that around every corner, at least one of them, maybe even both of them, engaging in a simulating conversation about Quidditch, would be there. She didn't know why she had such foolish hopes, for they both were gone. She had seen Sam sink to the cold floor of the tower,  and watched them lower his plain back coffin into its grave, and  she had seen Draco leap off the ledge of the tower into darkness, she wanted to do something, but she was helpless she couldn't do a thing. She watched, immobilized, frozen, in absolutely terror as Draco murdered Blaise in pure cold blood, and sent the Dark Mark, blazing menacingly into the dark sky, but she was helpless. She could feel his soft lips upon hers as he whispered something, a poem she had read to him almost a year prior. "I loved my friend, he went away from me, there is nothing more to say. The poem ends, as soft as it begins, I loved my friend." She remembered the quality of his voice changed as the ending of the poem merged with his true feelings. "You must understand I've done what I've done because of my love, and I can never return. Never, I'm dead to you, I'm dead to the world."

A loud clattering thump echoed through the train compartment causing Hermione to jump, her heart catching in her chest. She looked up to see who had generated the sound; it was a small first year, dragging their luggage through the compartment. The small redheaded girl flashed Hermione a strange look before quickly dragging her things out the other door. Hermione folded her hands as she could feel her head sink again, as she fell right back into her thoughts. Night after night, she wondered why Draco would say such a thing, but as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, it slowly began to make sense. Hermione quickly learned that the staff of Hogwarts and the Ministry was puzzled by the three mysterious deaths that cold February evening. 'What Happened at Hogwarts?' 'Three Tragic Demises Bewilders the Wizarding World.' ' Sixteen Underage Wizards Found Bearing Dark Mark at Hogwarts.' Were just a few of the numerous headlines that were plastered over the Daily Prophet, however one seemed to haunt Hermione the most. 'Minister of Magic Says Young Malfoy Was Guilty of Double Murder.'

Guilty. The word flowed through Hermione's weary veins like pure venom, guilty. She had seen it, seen it all, but she remained silent, Draco's haunting words resonating through her confused and hurt mind. At times, she'd be sensible, she would accept the fact that Draco could never survive a leap from the Astronomy Tower, and that indeed he was a guilty of murder, and dead, stone cold dead. However, most of the time, despite the constant reminders everyday that Draco was very depressed, and the fact she saw Draco jump, she still believed he was alive, however far away from Hogwarts. Yet, the wizarding community quickly wrote off young Draco Malfoy dead, despite Hermione's misgivings. 'That Draco Malfoy,' they would mutter, 'He lost it, and I'm surprised he didn't kill that poor girl too.' 'He wouldn't kill her, word is he fancied her.' 'Draco Malfoy and a Muggle-born!'  She would often hear on her Hogsmeade trips. Hermione would bow her head and bite her tongue; she would never mention that the Ministry didn't find the slightest evidence that Draco was dead, including a body.

She remained silent as time passed, her heart aching from the lost of not one, but two people she loved dearly. It was too much for her, she felt the need to withdraw, but Harry and Ron, being the friends that they were, would not let her give up. They constantly whispered words of encouragement to her on a daily basis, helping her live through one more melancholy day, and slowly her days became better. Some days all she could think about was that night when she lost them, other days she often did not think about them. Hermione could feel her hand reach instinctively reach for the tattered guitar case. Everyday she would touch it, but she still found her memories of Sam fading. Before things started to get better for her, she could see his face as clear as a summer's day, but now her memory of him had grown torn and tattered, little pieces of information slowly being erased like the pages of an aging and dilapidated dictionary. Hermione sighed, just the day prior she had realized, she had forgotten what his laugh sounded like, while Draco's still flooded her ears, lifting her spirits, even though for only a second or two, any period of time, no matter how short is was, was beneficial to her mind.

Hermione inhaled deeply as she massaged her temples, she could feel yet another headache coming on. She could feel her thoughts settling on the realization that she had so much of her life yet to live, and looking back on it, the awful gray and depressing time she had experienced would only be a small sliver of her pie of life. She suddenly felt a strange sense of warmness overcome her body, as she smiled, not a small smile, but a large beam. She'd miss Sam of course, and she'd miss Draco. She knew Sam was gone, she knew she would never see him smile again, or hear his soft tender and soothing voice again, or hear any more of his songs. However, he was instilled into her, he had helped shaped a significant part of her, he had been a godsend, a sweet special blessing. Her angel.

Draco, she could feel her heart flip within her chest, Draco she could feel her mind lull. Their relationship was thorny, full of lumps and knots like dough, Hermione had worked at and kneaded at and pounded at the dough, the cellulose, the glue of their relationship, trying to make it work, trying to pound everything imperfection out of it, pop every bubble and mash it into perfect constancy. However, she had run out of time, he had disappeared. She wished and hoped that he would come back to her one day, maybe she'd have another chance to make it right, to fix their problems, to bake her bread, but she knew it wouldn't happen. As long as Draco was alive, and she pretty sure he was, he would avoid her, perhaps she'd move on from him, her first love, maybe, she could feel her thoughts repeat, maybe she could finally forgot her. Her heart would finally move on and no longer ache with the passion. Hermione was waiting for that day to come; she was waiting for something that would take a long, almost unbearable, amount of time. Hermione looked up at the prefect to realize he had been staring at her. Hermione gave him a strange hesitant smile before she spoke.

"Hello." She smiled, her voice low. She could feel her eyes linger on him; she had seen this face before. The boy looked back at her, eyes wide, as if he was unsure of what to say to her, he flashed her a strange weary smile before whispering back, "'Lo, I'm Justin." He smiled. Hermione grinned at him; something about his light airy voice erased her worrisome and grin thoughts.

"I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger." She smiled at him as she switched positions on the cold bench. The Fifth year boy looked back at her, Hermione noticed a lock of chestnut brown hair fall into his face, and a strange glimmer in his gray eyes. Hermione stared at him, her mind recognized this boy, aside from the fact that he was a prefect, he had done something, she had seen his face, but she couldn't remember what. Before Hermione's lips could form any words, the boy spoke, his voice reminded her of a whistle.

"I'm sorry about Sam…" he whispered, his voice becoming quite shrill by the end of his sentence. Hermione stared back at him, as it dawned on her, she knew who he was. He was the soul unfortunate enough to come across Sam's lifeless and bruised body. Dumbledore had told her the poor boy that had found his body was so traumatized; his parents came to Hogwarts to take him home for a month. She looked at him, biting her lip hesitantly, trying to find the right words to say.

"It's.." She could feel her voice trail off, "It's nothing you should feel sorry about, he was too great to ever be feeling sorry about, he wouldn't like it." Hermione said softly. Justin looked back at her, before flashing her a sheepish grin. Hermione was about to open her mouth to say something else when Ron and Harry came clobbering into the compartment. Ron flashed Hermione a scathing look; his face flushed a bright shade of red, as he dragged his trunk, and her trunk behind him.

"Bloody hell Hermione, what are you keeping in there?" Ron heaved as he let go of the trunks, he keeled over, hands on both knees, heaving for breath. Harry looked down at him and patted his back, before turning to Hermione, a big grin on his face.

"What are you doing in this compartment?" Harry asked curiously. Hermione looked up at him, she could feel Justin's small eyes upon the pair of them. Ron stood up and ran a hand through his bright red hair before turning to Hermione. "We don't have to do any prefect duties until ten thirty, aren't you going to sit with us?" Ron piped in. Hermione bit her lip, as she looked up at her friends, her two best friends. She knew perfectly well that she had done them wrong during the entire school term. She had fought with them, ignored them and their constant warnings, she took them for granted. She loved them dearly for sticking by her side during her rough times, when she obviously did not do the same for them. She could feel a strange lump rising in her throat, as she felt the familiar urge to break into sobs.

"I'm just…" Hermione paused; she could feel three pairs of eyes intently gazing at her. "I'm just talking to Justin here." Hermione said quietly. Ron and Harry instinctively turned to look at the sole boy sitting on the opposite of the cabin; they flashed each other knowing looks before returning their eyes back to Hermione.

"Oh well, I suppose Harry and I will stay in here with you. You don't mind do you Harry?"  Ron turned to Harry. Harry looked down at Hermione, a strange look on his face, before he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and took a seat beside Hermione. Ron did the same, giving Justin a small wave.

"Oh!" Ron said quickly, he reached into the deep pockets of his robes, putting out a fading piece of parchment and handed it to Hermione. "An owl came and dropped this on your trunk." Ron explained, before reaching into his pockets again and pulling out a bag of chocolate frogs. Harry and Ron began to eat them merrily, talking fondly about Gryffindor taking the House-Cup, while Hermione stared at the parchment in her hands. The parchment was frayed slightly around the edges, and bent as if it had been submerged in water by accident. She uncoiled the paper with shaky fingers, she could feel her heart jump into her chest when she glanced at the handwriting, and she knew it as if it were her own.

C

Hello Hermione, I believe you know who this is. At first I wasn't going to owl you, I was too afraid of contradicting what I said to you that night on the tower. However, my mind has been empty, and my hearts been full during the past months. For a time things were bad, and I thought I was going to die, in fact death would have been a welcomed vacation to the hell I was living. However, things have improved, and I wanted to owl you to let you know that I'm all right. I couldn't live with the fact that I hurt you, and I know that I have, countless times before. I have adjusted to my life now, and I've seen many amazing things. I've seen all of Paris, I've been skiing in the Alps, I've been to Australia, and yes, it is as beautiful, maybe even more, as Sam described it. I cannot tell you where my journey will take me next, but I know it will never be England. If you have any ounce of forgiveness left in you, forgive me, and if you still have any trust in me, trust me when I tell you to forget me.

I loved you, I still love you, and I always WILL love you.

/C

Hermione finished the letter, as she felt a solitary tear leave her eye. He was all right; she could feel her heart swell in the most genuine feeling of happiness she had ever felt. She wiped away the tears forming in her eyes, as she looked up at Ron and Harry giving her identical looks of concern.

"What was that about?" Harry asked curiously. Hermione bowed her head, a laugh escaping her lips. "Nothing," she said more to herself then to Harry, a full ear-to-ear grin now on her face.  "It was nothing."

Far in the confines of her mind, Hermione could hear the door of closure slam, and lock, never to be opened again. She was content, it was over, and she was grateful of Draco, for he was her lantern. He may have hurt her countless times, and things may not have always been bright, but in the end, he had taught her so many valuable lessons. He was the lantern that lightened the way on her path to sanctity, the flames of her love for him, burned bright deep within her heart, as she was beginning to experience a calming warmth, coming over her entire body, and washing her into submission, tranquility, and calmness. She now was at peace with herself, and her demons, she was content.

c

"This world is a joke when out of love. Please come back to us, you're all the above."

Sick, Sad, Little World. Incubus

/c

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Well folks. This is the end! The Warmth is COMPLETE! Jumps for Joy

I'd like to thank all the people who went out of their way to read this story, and even more to the people who enjoyed it!

Also, before you break into tears, YES, there is going to be a sequel to the Warmth!

Thanks you guys! It was fun!

~Alisha~

By the way,  the poem used in this chapter is 'Poem' by Langston Hughes. Beautiful isn't it?