This is rated R for a reason. If you don't belong here, leave now. I've warned you.
Beware: Very triggering material.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. *tear* oh well.
A/N Hey. I've been very depressed lately, and I've decided that I need a way to release my anger and hurt without doing what Hermione does to herself in this story, so I'm writing this. Just bear with me. Flamers are welcome, just remember, what goes around comes around.
Letting Go
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Hermione
The razor shone in the moonlight. I used to think that I would have never given in to these feelings, I thought I was stronger than that. Apparently not. In my shaky hand the silver blade ran across my pale wrist, leaving a red slice behind. They say that physical pain takes away emotional pain, and I know that that's true. When Draco left, he hurt me so much, but I don't think he did it on purpose. He was never taught how to love, and when I confessed my feelings for him, he got scared. He ran. Blood began to drip down my arm. That's funny, it's never bled that much before. Did I go too deep? Oh well. I picked up the razor and put it on top of my wrist once again. A voice started to speak in my head. "You're stupid, you know that? What are you trying to do, kill yourself?" Maybe I was. Life was hard, unbearable. So many people would be happy if I was gone… like Draco. He wouldn't care if I were to die, would he? The razor was slicing its way through my skin now, as if it had a life of its own.
The sheets were covered in blood now. The once gold comforter was now a very deep burgundy, how ironic, being in Gryfindor and all. I started to move on to more places, I was running out of room on my arm. Everywhere it was possible there was a cut, with blood pouring from it. Slicing down my leg, I cut as deep as I could manage. Blood was really surrounding me now. Sitting in a pool of blood, I began to think. Was I going to go through with it? Would I kill myself and give up being Head Girl, give up everything I had ever worked for? Of course, I answered myself. None of that is worth anything if you don't have love. Seeing Draco in my mind, slapping me. I will do it. I'll prove to him that I love him, dying for him. I'll even write my suicide note in blood.
Standing up and walking over to the only empty wall in the room, I dipped my finger into my slash in my arm. Then writing on the wall, I wrote, "I love you Draco, even if you hate me. Life isn't worth living without you. Goodbye my love, Hermione". I then sat on the floor, deciding that if I was going to go through with it, I was leaving with a bang. Something that they'd never forget. In later years the older years would taunt the first years, saying, "Better be careful or Crazy Hermione will come after you with her razor." I cut slashes through every part of my body and then walked around my room, leaving a trail of blood. Throwing the razor at the wall, I walked out the door and into the common room. Good thing it's past midnight. No one is up. I then walked through the portrait, not caring that the Fat Lady started screaming at me for being out past curfew.
Running my hand on the wall (leaving a bloody line following my hand) I walked down random corridors, not really knowing where I was going. I was starting to feel very weak; the loss of blood was getting to me. I looked around, realizing that I was at the top of the stairs leading to the Great Hall. Standing up on the hand rail, I heard a voice call out, "Hermione, don't do it! I love you! I'm so sorry I ever hurt you." Turning around, I saw Draco standing there, declaring his love to me. Shocked, I slipped on my blood and fell, 2 stories down, to my death.
"NO! You can't do this to me, who will I turn to?" Running down the stairs, Draco lost all his control. Once he reached me, he fell to his knees, crying. Could I still hear? Did I die?
"I love you Hermione, I do."
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Draco
"This has been a very hard time for all of us. To see such a tragic suicide, none of us expected it. Classes are canceled for the time being, and if any of you want counseling, it will be provided. Let us remember that life is precious, but not all understand its worth. Hermione needed to understand that her life was worth something, but no one attempted to talk to her. If you or a friend are ever suicidal, talk to a friend immeditly, please. The funeral will be tomorrow at 1 p.m. next to the lake, and everyone is welcome. If you feel that you cannot bear it, that is fine, just try to get some rest. Afterwards there will be a time when everyone can talk and remember Hermione in the Great Hall. That is all." Professor Dumbldore looked exhausted, and it was no wonder. To have this happen, and for it to be so bloody… it was just too much.
I walked out of the Great Hall; I needed to get away. Walking down towards our tree, where the funeral was going to be, I barely noticed the rain pouring on my head. She loved the rain, the last time it rained we were out here, and she was playing in it. God, she was so happy. Why did I hit her? I know that's what made her do it… but when I walked in and I saw her, she looked so sad, so apologetic. Then she slipped, and it was all over. I had ran down the stairs, but it was too late. Even if she had survived the fall, she had lost too much blood to make it. I just started screaming then. Even when teachers showed up I couldn't stop screaming. I loved her, and yet I killed her. They tried to pull me away from her, they kept telling me she's dead Draco, you have to let go. All I wanted was her back; I couldn't live without her. Walking next to the lake, I heard footsteps behind me. Slowly turning my head, I saw that it was Potter.
"We loved her too, you know. You aren't the only one." Looking over at him, I saw that he wasn't lying. I decided not to answer. "It's going to be hard, trying to get over it." Was he still talking? Why won't he just go away already? "She really loved you, you know."
"I realize that. Don't you think I saw what she wrote? Just leave me alone. I don't want to talk to anyone, least of all you." Harry walked off, then turned.
"You don't need to be a jerk all the time. I was only talking to you because I know she would want me to. You could at least try to accept the help." Then he turned and continued on to the castle.
Staring up at the rain, Draco wondered what she was doing now. Was she in heaven, looking down on him? Or did she not make it through? Walking back to the room, he decided he would give her something more, something she would appreciate.
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