Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N Hey yÕall. Thanks for all your fantastic reviews. You have no idea how much I appreciate them. Hope you like this new chapter!
Xoxo
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~0~*Chapter Six-The Moment of Truth*~0~
~*~The Moment of Truth~*~
Why did you have to lie to me?
Why did you have to change?
Why did you have to betray me?
Why did you run away?
CanÕt you see that IÕm hurting inside?
DonÕt you wonder why IÕm still holding you tight?
DonÕt you want to know everything?
IÕm waiting for the moment of truth from you
YouÕre always covering up whatÕs true
Can you stop pretending and making me cry?
And if youÕre asking me why
I donÕt say good-bye
ItÕs Ôcause IÕm waiting that moment of truth
Why did you have rip me apart?
Why did you push me away?
Why did you react so differently?
Why did you let me be fake?
ArenÕt you wondering why I kept distancing myself from you?
Why did you choose to act like that and break my heart too?
DonÕt you want to know anything?
IÕm waiting for the moment of truth from you
YouÕre always covering up whatÕs true
Can you stop pretending and making me cry?
And if youÕre asking me why
I donÕt say good-bye
ItÕs Ôcause IÕm waiting that moment of truth
Oh, you know honey I ainÕt see through
And you know I canÕt stand you lies
Did you know that I once might have loved you?
Why are you making me cry?
IÕm waiting for the moment of truth from you
YouÕre always covering up whatÕs true
Can you stop pretending and making me cry?
And if youÕre asking me why
I donÕt say good-bye
ItÕs Ôcause IÕm waiting that moment of truth
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ÔWhat the fuck? No, I canÕt believe this. Him too? Why do people keep doing this to me? IÕm sick and tired of being hurt all the time. I want this to end!Õ
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Hermione slowly backed away. No. . . She looked at her feet, swallowing thickly. Her hair now covered her eyes, blanketing her sheet white face. ÔHow could he?Õ She felt her eyes tear, and the hair on the back of her neck prickle. Her hands were shaking slightly, and she was finally realizing the impact of DracoÕs denial, and of RonÕs death. She hadnÕt even seen Ginny recently. What was she thinking? How was she coping with her brotherÕs untimely death, and with the fact that it was suicide and not murder? Why had he been so unhappy?
ÒHermione?Ó Draco whispered, moving closer. Hermione backed away, not saying anything, still staring at her black converse, shoes she had been wearing since the first day of school. She began looking around wildly, but still kept her eyes planted on the floor. Her hair had parted slightly, and Draco could see her lip quivering.
ÒHermione?Ó He whispered. She still wouldnÕt respond. He stopped closer and watched in dismay as she backed away once again. He kept walking towards her until she was backed against a wall. He shook his head as she whimpered and he moved away.
ÒHow could you?Ó She finally whispered. He didnÕt know what to say. He put his hands in his pockets. ÒWhat the fuck possessed you to say you loved me when you donÕt even mean it?Ó Draco was now the one cowering and looking at his feet. She was now advancing toward him like he was her prey.
ÒI donÕt know.Ó He choked out. She raised her hands as an exasperated gesture. She looked disbelievingly at the darting eyes and the ashamed face. She couldnÕt believe it.
ÒWas this all some pathetic excuse for attention? Maybe I should go say I love you so I wonÕt have to wonder the halls on my own anymore. Maybe I should kill HermioneÕs best friend because I donÕt know what to do with my sad sorry ass!Ó She was now nearly visibly fuming, ÒYou know what? YouÕre hopeless! IÕm not wasting anymore of my breath on you.Ó
She ran up the staircase, tears slowing rolling down her cheeks. Hermione was now so unbelievably upset that, when she got to her room, she grabbed a blade and hid it underneath her shirt. She exited her room and went to the bathroom.
She sat herself on the floor. Pulling up her sleeve, she took the blade out of her pocket. The blade glistened by the moonlight pouring through the window. She swallowed and placed the blade against her skin. Her skin quivered under the unnatural coldness of the metal. Her tears were dripping onto the black material of her shirt, which contrasted violently with the atypical pallor of her skin. She felt the drops, wet against her flesh.
ÔThis is itÕ she thought bitterly.
She pressed the blade deeper and felt it pierce and penetrate, creating a thin red line. She quickly removed it, seeing the blood made her feel slightly dizzy. She recovered and pressed the blade against her skin once more, this time drawing more blood. She ran the blade across her forearm lazily, almost enjoying the feeling of self-inflicting pain. It suddenly hit her, what she was doing and why, and she pressed It harder, causing the blood to ooze out faster and in greater quantity.
She watched the drops of red drip to the ground, standing out as clear as day on the white marble floor. The blood was now running down her arm and she twisted and turned it. She let one-drop fall onto her tongue and savored the metal taste.
She took the blade, pressing it against untarnished skin and watching red slowly spread, simultaneously to her smile. It surprised how much pleasure she was getting out of this. Suddenly, she dropped the blade and ran her middle finger up and down her arm, letting the blood lap around her finger. She let out a strangled sob, mixed with strange, nervous laughter. She swirled her red, shining finger around and then began to feel dizzy.
She was falling. . .
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Draco walked hurriedly across the green sloping lawn, seeing the dark sky and the moonlight dancing across the lake. He saw the giant squid come to the surface, only to dive back down into its murky depths. He smiled sadly, and felt his way around the edge of the forest till he came to his favorite spot.
It was the stump of an old tree that had been cut down. His father had told him it used to have the names of all the Hogwarts couples. They would carve their names onto the old wood, praying it would be there forever, like they wished their love would be forever.
He sat, stretching his long legs out in front of him, and he pulled his sleeve up. He traced the pattern of the Dark Mark with his index finger. It was odd that he hadnÕt been called back to VoldemortÕs lair. He thought he might have gotten praise for the dirty deed heÕd committed. Mind you, Weasley would have been dead anyway.
He shook his head and thought of Hermione. Why hadnÕt he said that he loved her? Why was he so afraid? What the fuck was wrong with him? He pulled his sleeve down, feeling slightly sick when he saw the skull with a snake protruding from its mouth.
He stomach was churning. Hermione was mad at him now. She probably hated him, but could he really blame her? He had lied, in front of all those people. He had told them of feelings he didnÕt really know he had. Did he love her?
No. Malfoys donÕt love.
Draco felt the sting of the Dark Mark, still feeling sore after it had been branded, but the pain did not stop. It grew, and spread over his body, engulfing him in heated throbbing. His hands were shaking and his lips quivered. His eyes shut and were stinging, feeling like they were being slowly gouged out.
He fell off the stump, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He clutched the Mark in fear. His legs were now shaking, and his arms felt like they were being pulled, and that he was being stretched.
He tried to scream, but felt no sound escape his lips.
His fingers were twitching strangely as the pain subsided. He quickly pulled up his sleeve, and exposed his pale skin to the moonlight. The Dark Mark was glowing eerily, the eyes of the skull burnt red. Draco stared down at it maliciously. He wasnÕt going to go anywhere he wanted him to.
He shook his pale head in disbelief. How could he possibly have thought joining them would solve his problems? TheyÕd made them worse, he could already tell. He pulled is hair at the sides of his head slightly, and cried out in anguish. No one heard his call for help.
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Draco walked lazily up the stairs, and turned down the hallway leading to his dorm. His arm still throbbed, but the rest of him felt numb. His breath was slightly ragged and sounded as if his throat was trying to snatch what little breath he did have back in, there by extinguishing his lifeÕs flame. After all heÕd been through, Draco probably would have been happier dead.
He looked down at his hands. They werenÕt his hands anymore. They had taken someoneÕs life. Well, almost. They would have eventually. No matter how much he wanted not to have killed someone, he knew that had he chosen the dark or light side, he would have ended up murdering someone. He didnÕt want to be a murderer.
He flattened his hair nervously when he arrived outside the portrait. He leaned against the wall and sighed heavily, his heart beating rapidly, thumping painfully in his clenched chest. He hit it fist against the wall, to softly to cause any real damage, but enough to suck his knuckles.
How would he face her? What would she say? Would she be okay after all this? He wanted to help her desperately, but whether or not she would let him was something he didnÕt know. He certainly hoped so. He turned to face the portrait and muttered the password, dreading what was to come.
Draco entered an empty common room. He looked around the living area puzzled, and went to HermioneÕs bedroom. The portrait was wide open. No one was inside. ÔThatÕs odd.Õ He thought.
He turned and saw that the bathroom door was closed, when he had left it open when heÕd left the dorm. He walked over to it and rapped, ÒHermione?Ó No answer. He knocked harder, ÒHermione?Ó Still no answer. He tried the knob, and opened the door.
Hermione was lying on the floor, a knife near her wrist, a pool of blood under it, still slowing dripping out.
Draco ran over, and he felt his eyes tear. ÒHermione!Ó He scooped her up, and ran towards the door. He threw it open and hurried to the portrait. The limp girl was still breathing, but only just. Her heart was beating ever so slightly, and the blood on her wrist was leaving a trail wherever Draco walked.
He hurried to the Hospital Wing. It was late at night, ÒMadame Pomfrey!Ó he shouted wildly. He stumbled around in the dark, and shouted louder, ÒMadame Pomfrey!Ó No one was around, he shrieked and slowly dropped to the floor, now sobbing, ÒMadame Pomfrey! Madame Pomfrey!Ó
A very sleepy looking Pomfrey came out of her room, looking very annoyed and frazzled. ÒWho on earth is making such a racket? I really will-Ò She stopped dead, seeing Draco Malfoy on the floor, a lifeless looking Hermione Granger in his arms. He was crying, his face down. He had a very tight grip on her, and the marks on her fragile skin were beginning to show. She also saw-
ÒBlood! Mr. Malfoy, what happened?Ó She rushed over to their side, helping Draco up and motioning him over to a bed to put Hermione on. He lay her down with such care and collapsed onto a chair near by. He was sobbing once more.
ÒOh, it was all my fault. I got her upset and she went and put herself under the knife!Ó He looked at her, his face looked pained, his eyes were incredibly tempestuous. ÒShe tried to kill herself. God, there was so much blood.Ó He keeled over. ÒOh God, I think IÕm going to be sick.Ó Draco was a wreck. Two seconds later, he had wretched all over the Hospital Wing floor. Madame Pomfrey called to Draco.
ÒBoy, you need some sleep. Get Professor Dumbledore. You know where he is. The password is ÔGumdrops!Õ Tell him to come here immediately. Then, we will fix you up with some Dreamless Sleeping Potion. You look dreadful.Ó
Draco nodded and staggered up. He made his way slowly to the door, and turned, ÒPromise me she wonÕt die.Ó
ÒWell. . .Ó
ÒPromise me!Ó Madame Pomfrey wrung her hands nervously.
ÒI wish I could Mr. Malfoy, but there are things you donÕt know anything about. Now go, quickly.Ó
Draco didnÕt wait for an explanation to the strange thing the nurse had just said. He ran out of the Wing, and up to DumbledoreÕs office.
When he arrived, he spat the password out hurriedly and stormed up the moving staircase, yelling ÒDumbledoreÓ all the while. It was as if he were waiting there for him. The Headmaster was right at the door when he called.
ÒHermione! SheÕs in the
Hospital Wing. She tried to kill herself.Ó Draco let the words sink in. God,
she tried to take her own life. He shook his head.
ÒMr. Malfoy, we must hurry. What happened?Ó They were close to running the path that Draco had taken only minutes ago to the Hospital Wing.
ÒShe was upset with me.Ó Draco gulped. ÒI found her in the bathroom, lying on the floor. She was so pale and lifeless. She looked like a dummy, like she wasnÕt really there. And there was so much blood, and a dagger. Her lips were nearly blue. I was so scared.Ó He laughed nervously, ÒIÕve never been more scared in my life.Ó
Dumbledore just nodded. They arrived at the Hospital Wing seconds later, the Headmaster rushing over to HermioneÕs bedside.
ÒPoppy?Ó Dumbledore said gravely, ÒDraco here will be staying with Hermione tonight.Ó
ÒBut Headmaster, surely-Ò
ÒI believe it is best, Poppy. Come, we must have a little chat.Ó Dumbledore walked over to the nurse and motioned her into her office. He left Draco standing, bewildered, in the middle of the room.
He walked slowly over to HermioneÕs bedside. One of her arms was wrapped up in bandages. He shook his head. ÒWhy did you do this to yourself, Mya? You know you shouldnÕt have. IÕm not worth this.Ó He smiled sadly and sat next to her. He watched her in silence for hours, capturing the beauty of her delicate face so that it would be ensconced in his mind forever. He was so deeply concentrating, that he didnÕt notice the Headmaster creeping past him. He finally laid his head on HermioneÕs stomach, kissing it gently. He let his eyes drift shut from exhaustion, the last things in his mind was her pale face, and her gorgeous hair fanned around her like a halo.
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Draco awoke to the feeling of someone stroking his head. He opened his eyes
groggily, and the hand jogged away when it felt the head underneath it quiver.
Draco pulled his head up to see Hermione awake. She looked very tired and the
bags under her eyes were incredibly dark. She smiled slightly and then Draco
watched as a tear trickled down her cheek.
ÒHermione.Ó He smiled widely. He leant over and gave her a big hug. She put her arms around his neck and they stayed in that position for quite awhile. When Draco finally released her, HermioneÕs eyes darted down.
ÒWhatÕs wrong?Ó Draco asked, his hand caressing her cheek. He smiled in a friendly manner, which soon left his face when she really started to cry.
ÒOh everythingÕs wrong Draco! How can you sit and ask that? My best friend is dead, and would have been because of you had he not been depressed!Ó She looked at him, urging him to say something.
He gulped and nearly whispered, ÒDo you know why?Ó
ÒWhy what?Ó
ÒWhy he was depressed.Ó
ÒNot really.Ó Hermione looked down at her hands, ÒI think he was smarter then everyone thought. He probably did think about things, and notice things. I know this might sound weird. . . maybe even stupid, ludicrous, but I think he might have killed himself. . .Ó
ÒWhat? Say it.Ó
Hermione started to cry, ÒGinny thinks itÕs because of me. She came here before you woke up. She was yelling. I was worried she would wake you up. She wouldnÕt stop. . .She kept shrieking about how everything was my fault and how he loved me but I was too blind to see it.Ó Draco had to admit it was a bit odd that Hermione has never noticed RonÕs huge crush on her.
ÒI miss him too! Why does it have to be my fault? I know sheÕs right. I canÕt help but blame myself. I. . .I wasnÕt there for him this past year. But, he wasnÕt there for me either. When I needed him the most. And thatÕs why. . .thatÕs why I tried to kill myself.Ó She swallowed and looked at Draco with her wide innocent brown orbs.
ÒIÕm sick, Draco.Ó
ÒI know. . . You tried to kill-Ò
ÒNo, IÕm really sick. I have a disease. IÕm terminal.Ó
Draco looked at her, his expression blank. His eyes were wider then usual, but he couldnÕt eve think. He finally let out a hollow, nervous laugh.
ÒThatÕs what my dad did when he found out.Ó Hermione whispered.
Draco just looked at her, her calmness making him nervous, ÒAnd youÕre okay with this?Ó He said those words more harshly then heÕd expected and Hermione looked slightly taken aback.
ÒWell, IÕm going to die. I have to learn to be okay.Ó She swallowed. ÒPlease treat me the same. I donÕt want to have to leave this world knowing that I had one more person IÕd have to leave behind.Ó
Draco looked at her, wide-eyed, ÒWhy did you try to kill yourself?Ó Hermione looked down and shrugged, ÒI thought it might be easier that way. Just putting myself out of my misery. ItÕs horrible just waiting, you know?Ó She looked at him and saw he was listening with rapt attention, ÒWaiting for your death, which you know will come soon, which you know is untimely. ItÕs funny how the disease devours the life out of you until one day, your body just says, IÕve had enough of being eaten alive. IÕm going to give up. You get weaker.Ó
ÒThen you die.Ó Draco finished. Hermione nodded and looked down again, ÒThatÕs why I became so detached from Harry and Ron. I didnÕt want to have to miss them before I left. I wanted no one to love me. I left my home in the middle of the night this summer. I just ran away. I think they understand though, my parents. I took it kind of strangely.
ÒWhen the Healer told me I was terminal, it was just me and him. My parents were outside waiting to see what was wrong with me. I had been feeling dizzy and my eyes swelled up. I also could never get to sleep. We went to the hospital when my eyes swelled shut. I suggested we go to St. MungoÕs. My parents agreed, and the Healer told me I was sick. I laughed. Not the kind of laugh that you did, but a real, full-fledged laugh.
ÒI guess I didnÕt think it was possible. How could I be sick? Like that. The Healer looked at me strangely and then just left me in there, all on my own. I couldnÕt tell my parents what the disease was until later. Do you remember Krum?Ó Draco nodded shortly, ÒWell, he got me drunk one night and we. . . you know, did it.Ó Draco opened his mouth and let out a soft, guttural moan. ÒI know. He gave me a disease. ItÕs wizarding. Pelformatae Telmingo.Ó
Draco looked up, with a small smile, ÒThat disease isnÕt terminal. It can be cured if you-Ò
ÒFind true love. I know. But I convinced myself I knew that would never happen. I knew it. Not in the time that I had. My Healer said I had about a year to live. IÕve already wasted about a quarter of it, and what do I have to show for it? Nothing. I have no one.Ó
Draco tried to speak, ÒI thought, well, if I only have myself, whatÕs the hurt in dying. But I didnÕt want it to take me slowly. I didnÕt want to get weaker as the days went on, finally, after my last breath had been sucked out, just to collapse, never to come to again. I didnÕt want to put myself through that. I thought I might be happier if I was the cause of my own death. That way, I wouldnÕt have to blame anyone but myself. I can live with blaming myself.
ÒYou know the reason I went that far as to put a blade to my skin?Ó Draco shook his head, but he was pretty sure he had an idea, ÒBecause I thought for a moment I might be saved. That I might get to live my life normally, never thinking whatÕs around the corner, am I going to die? In life, you always have to look around the corner, but until that fateful day at St. MungoÕs, I never have. Now itÕs all I ever do.
ÒI thought maybe you would save me. And when you lied, I didnÕt know what to do. ThatÕs why I attempted suicide.Ó Hermione looked placidly down at her hands, her fingers battling with each other. Draco looked at her finger fight to. He watched her thumb press her other thumb against the rest of her fingers, ferociously, until her right hand finally reigned supreme over her left. Draco finally lay his large hand on top of HermioneÕs tiny ones and forced the war to end.
ÒWhyÕd you tell me that?Ó Draco finally asked. The room had been bathed in silence before. The only movement was the two hearts, beating as one in the dark, their hands touching.
ÒI thought you shouldÕve known. Maybe I should just tell everyone. I just donÕt want everyone treating me differently because IÕm going to die.Ó
Draco looked at her, his grey eyes glistening, glazed with unwanted tears. He eyed her, and seeing her pathetically pale face. It rivaled his pallor, but Malfoys were known for their milk white skin, and their blue eyes, and their blonde hair. He looked into her eyes, still shining with tears. He looked at her cheeks, which had lost all color. But most of all, he saw she had no smile, something that had been ripped from her from himself after heÕd been the one to bring it back.
ÒI wonÕt let you die.Ó
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My Reviewers:
Fanofbooks.Harry Potter: Haha, you know what your sis said? She said ÒAnyways, please reviewÓ on her review. Haha. Keep reading honey. Oh, and IÕm so jealous you are going to boarding school in Bangeragogoland (LOL. ThatÕs what my best friend and I call it. ThatÕs where all my family lives. Sigh. . .) Any who, if you ever happen to meet any boys by the names of Callum, Dylan or Sam, they might just be my cousins! :D.
LILY!!!: Hey dahling! Thanks for pointing that error out. Oops. Anyway, I hope you like my new chapter, and it was fantastic talking to you on the phone. I miss you! And thanks for your wonderful song! I love it!
Tenshi-Hotaru: Thanks for being a faithful reviewer! Yes, it is good that Draco wasnÕt the one that really took RonÕs life.
The elven princess: Indeed, the Ronmeister is dead. I love him in the books and the movies, but in Fan Fiction, to be honest, he sucks. I hope you got his stupidity in this story. :D. Thanks!
sweetbabe-101: I faithfully continue my story, even though I had no plans of stopping, and yet you donÕt actually review when I have updated? That hurts. . . JK! LOL. Sorry. Thanks for your reviews. You are definitely fabulous! MWAHZ! Keep reading. ;)