Disclaimer: Don't own a thing, except for the plot, and the songs belong to Evanescence.
Plot: I don't really have a plot. Sorry.
Author's Note: There's really no point to this little story. I couldn't sleep last night. If it's good, hit me back with a review. If not, oh well. I had to try.
The Journal
It was a full moon and after curfew. The lake glowed slightly from the city of mermaids at the bottom and from the light of the moon.
Draco Malfoy lifted to his nose to the air and sniffed. A feral grin emerged when he scented nothing.
Why, you ask, would Draco Malfoy, the sophisticated and sexy pureblooded Slytherin, be sniffing the air like some animal?
Well, he wanted to be alone. To think things out, more or less.
The Slytherin common room was not the place and a shagging couple likely occupied the Astronomy tower. He scented the air like an animal to make sure he was alone. The lake was just one more 'romantically linked' spot for couples to be alone.
He did not want to surprise anyone or want anyone to surprise him. Draco moved closer to the tree line, to his tree, but stopped when he thought he saw a shadow within the shadows move quickly. He waited for ten minutes before moving again and sat at the base of the large tree he called his. He tipped his head back and closed his gray eyes. He pressed his back against the familiar rough trunk and growled.
Oh, things were not going his way. His father had found out that he did not want to follow in his footsteps and become a Death Eater. Pansy was pissed at him for cutting her down in front of everyone in the common room. Blaise discovered his little hobby and/or obsession; Draco did not wish to distinguish which. Snape was breathing down his neck to pass his exams. McGonagall had given him a month's detention for calling Mudblood Granger a 'fucking know-it-all bitch whose sole purpose in life was to read fucking useless books and worship Pothead every second' in front of her.
Draco did not think he deserved detention for that. It was true and as the saying goes, the truth hurts. Or at least that's what he tried to tell himself.
No. Nothing was going his way. Not his classes, his 'friends', not even his hair, for Merlin's sake.
And what was he going to do about it?
He snorted. Likely nothing, of course. What could he do? His hands were tied and, he was on a short leash. Crabbe and Goyle were given orders to keep Draco in sight at all times. He gave those two thundering numbskulls the slip every chance he got. It was none of his concern that they were punished for not following orders. He was a Malfoy.
Malfoys do not care.
About anything.
Period.
He sighed. No one understood him. Fuck, no one wanted to. The general population of Hogwarts considered him cold, dangerous, and as treacherous as a snake. It was almost amusing how a surname and House swayed the students of Hogwarts. Precedent is as precedent does. His father was a monster and therefore, he was a monster.
"'What a piece of work is a man'," he murmured, quoting Shakespeare's Hamlet. It amazed him how people could delude themselves with lies and not see the truth, even if it bit them in the ass. That quote was very true. He did not know how much more he could take.
Groaning, he threw himself to the grass. Could one Avada himself? Maybe with a mirror. He laughed at his little joke.
Draco flung out an arm and hit something flat and hard. He twisted to get a better look. It was a book. He picked it up and brought it close to his face.
It was just a plain leather bound book. He flipped it open and found it was a journal. Draco turned over onto his stomach.
Who would be stupid enough to leave their journal lying around? He studied the binders for any clue to its owner, but not so much as initials. Oh, well, their loss.
His mind made up, Draco turned to the first page. The moon cast enough light to read, so he did not need his wand. Not that he would use it anyway since it could alert someone to the fact that he was outside.
The handwriting was quite beautiful actually. It put him in the mind of flowing water and the writings of the Arabs, elegant and fluid.
August 28Well, well. My parents got me this journal for my birthday yesterday. It's actually nice and it's better than those horrid floral print dresses Mother tries to get me. Why she thinks they are a fashion just waiting to happen astounds me!
I don't mean to be mean, but she has absolutely the most horrendous taste in fashion. It's like she's an alien from a distant planet to make humankind suffer from hideous clothes.
Hey! That could make a good B horror movie. I can see it now. Attack of the Killer Klothes from Planet Klothsar.
Nah, that would never work.
Oh it will be so good to be going back to Hogwarts. My parents don't understand that I wish to be with my friends and left alone. Just because I'm a witch, it doesn't mean I'm willing to become their cash cow. I hate them although they treat me okay.
So superior and arrogant, they remind me of Draco Malfoy.
Draco raised his brows at this. So, this witch knows who he is. He wondered what year she was in.
But Draco Malfoy would never so much as look at me although he insults me often enough. I just ignore him. After all, he can't help the beliefs he's grown up with. One doesn't usually go against the system. There's no point.
Ah enough of him. I'm tired.
And so ends my first entry.
He insults her often? Fuck, that could be any girl! And she dares to think him some mindless minion because of his 'beliefs'? He did not know his beliefs anymore.
Draco turned a couple more pages and a few passages, but found them boring. Yada yada yada, she hated most of her classes. She got into an argument with her roommates. She hit her best friend after he tried something. She mentioned him once or twice, but only on something stupid. There was no clue to her identity.
He flipped some more and found an entry that looked interesting. Her writing looked a little harried.
October 8OOH!!
I hate my life!
I try and try, but nothing is good enough for them. They demand more than I can give them and do they care?
NO!!
They want me to be perfect. Even my parents, especially my mother! She dares to send me a letter telling me to get good grades and whatnot!!
I DO GET GOOD GRADES!!
I just can't please her. "Get good grades. Get a good job. Education is everything. Blah, blah, blah."
I hate it!!
I know you can't get anywhere without an education, but just once I'd like to kick back. I can't keep working like a dog with no breaks.
Everyone seems to think I'm a goody-two-shoes just because I get top grades. I never get into trouble. (Actually, I get into trouble plenty, but anyway...) Some people just look at the surface, they don't bother to look underneath the mask, the smile.
"I can so relate," he said to the wind.
People seem to think I do what I'm told: be this, do that, don't mess up. Stay in school, get good grades. They don't seem to know or care what they're doing to me.
I can't...I just can't take it all, you know? Mom, Dad, the professors, my friends, everyone's trying to shape me into something. Since they're doing it all at the same time, I am going to come out like some big blob. A mix of everything and yet nothing.
I know I am going to break, but that's not the scariest part.
No, the scariest part of it is that I don't know when or care.
She has some issues. Again, Draco wondered who she is. She sounded...intriguing. The girl knew the pressures of wearing a mask. He reread the last line.
She did not care when she would break. That sounded as though she almost relished the thought. He cracked a grin. She could be sadistic.
A day later, she wrote:
I don't know. Maybe I'm overreacting.
Reading too much into it.
Maybe I'm assuming things that just aren't there, not real.
She is coming to her senses he thought. Damn it.
Draco sighed. Could he learn anything from reading this thing? It is just full of ramblings of a teenage girl. Nothing useful.
Except that he felt he knew her . Or should know her from her writing.
He turned back to the journal.
October 13
You know, sometimes I wonder if there is a heaven. I know there's a hell. You don't need to die to go to hell. You can just live.
Was there ever a God? If there was, how did God let us become as we are today? Sinful people. We commit sins, we get wasted, we trash the Earth, we have too many ambitions. We are learning too quickly, have too much knowledge, and no idea how to redeem ourselves, no idea how to fix the Earth.
Sometimes, I wish I could just die. Right then and there. No regrets. No second thoughts. Done before I could even change my mind. If I offer myself to Voldemort as target practice, perhaps he'll just Avada Kedavra me.
But no. If it were only that easy. No God or Devil to pass a final judgment. Just a caressing darkness where you float. No worries. It could be that easy, but it's not. Nothing ever is.
Maybe if I'm extra nice to Malfoy, he'll be so disgusted he'd have to Avada me.
Nah. He may be a strutting cock, but I don't think he could live with the fact he'd been expelled and sent to Azkaban for killing me.
Does anyone ever get lonely? I mean, sure they do when they're alone, but lonely. When there's people all around them and they're isolated. Distant. Does anyone feel that? The hopelessness, the despair. Not wanting to say anything for risk of sounding like a freak.
I wonder if Malfoy feels that way. If he does, we actually have something in common. Joy. I mean that sarcastically, of course.
I hate it when people ask me what's wrong and I say nothing, though I want to scream out EVERYTHING! They may persist and I come off sounding like a bitch.
It's not fair.
He chuckled. She was funny. A strutting cock was he? But she was accurate in wondering if he felt lonely in exactly the same way as she described. She could be a writer of Goth novels if she chose, but he could not see her doing that.
He stopped.
"What the fuck? I can't see her doing that? I've never even seen her fucking face or know who the fuck she is," Draco muttered. He must be losing his mind.
October 21I hate him. I really hate him. He never listens to me. And when he tries to, I don't know, communicate with me, I'm already mad. And when I tell him this, he said that I always try at a bad time.
Fuck that! "A bad time" indeed! With him, there's never a good time to talk to him. It's always bad, bad, bad.
"I'm tired," he goes. He is always fucking tired. Quidditch practice, homework (yeah, right), girls. Whatever!
And when I want some attention and he's doing something, I try to talk to him and he yells at me! But when he stops doing something, he starts on something else, leaving me no choice but to butt in again.
Boys are so fucking stupid!!He laughed. Yes, boys could be stupid, but not all the time. Okay, this was not so bad. He would let her words to just go through him, washing away all of his problems.
October 29Why do I feel the need to dominate? The need is so strong in me. I crave independence and freedom. Because of that, I will always be alone. NO matter how many people love me, need me, or even hate me. I am isolated.
True, I do not have a strong shield to put up around my heart or feelings, but I do have my pride and dignity.
I am sometimes betrayed by the actions done by someone close to me, that I pretend it does not bother me. It is my pride that keeps me from getting ugly and nasty.
I want to, though. To only get it out of my system, but I fear that if I do, all hell will break loose. Maybe I should have gone with that stupid hat wanted and be sorted into Slytherin.
If I had been in Slytherin, I would have had to rein in my passion. I would have failed though. I try not to do everything passionately, but I fail miserably. I cry, rage, write, and even get happy passionately. It is a weakness in myself I can easily distinguish. Other than that is crying.
It is because of my passion for just about everything under the sun, the stars, and the moon, that I can be disappointed easily. Be hurt easily.
I've tried to walk away from any emotions I've felt. Tried to lock them away and forget even the existence of a key, but I cannot. Without feeling anything for the rest of your life, it is nothing short of being dead.
My life is a constant rolling ocean. Everything changes everyday, every hour, every minute, and every second. But doesn't everything?
Draco was a little at loss for words. This girl was not in Slytherin and she despised her emotions? She is right though. If she had been in his House, the girl would have been torn apart within minutes. Emotions were weakness. The Slytherins would have perceived she wore her heart on her sleeve and needle in a few well-chosen comments.
November 1I hate, I repeat, I HATE Harry Potter!
A fucking asshole that cares for no one but himself. I hate him. I hate his stupid black hair. I hate his stupid green eyes. I hate his stupid scar. I really hate his stupid Firebolt. I hate that he yells at me and then acts as though nothing has happened. I hate that he tries to copy my homework. I hate it when he breathes.
I could go on and on, but that would be pointless. Harry doesn't give a shit if people don't like him. He just, oh, I don't know, is. It's like nothing touches him.
I feel tempted to give him a kiss just for the hell of it, just to see if he would react at all, but I would never lower myself to do such a thing. I actually have standards unlike those sluts Lavender Brown, Cho Chang, and Susan Bones. Yes, Cho is a year older, but does that stop her? No.
There is talk Pansy Parkinson had sex with Harry, but I don't believe that. Pansy, while a bitch to most people, would never screw a limp dick like Harry. She, from what I've seen, prefers the evil side of things and Harry is not exactly evil or dangerous. I guess that's why she likes Malfoy, Zabini, and the others, but I've only heard she's slept with Malfoy.
Zabini and the others are just braggarts, I think. They don't have that essence that Malfoy has, that air about them, but Zabini comes awfully close.
I've never told anyone this, but two weeks ago, Zabini cornered me in one of the lower corridors in a classroom. I had to kiss him so he would let me go. He actually wasn't bad and that thing he did with his tongue? Oh. My. God. I'll admit it felt good. I'm not so much of a hypocrite and say I didn't enjoy it. I did.
He nearly convinced me to stay, but I had to go. Not only for my sake, but also for his. Would a Slytherin want it going around that he had slept with a Gryffindor?
No, I didn't think so.
If it had been Malfoy...but thank Merlin it was not. I don't think he's the type to take 'no' so well. He probably wouldn't have touched me, just given me detention and take points off.
What am I thinking? Malfoy and me? Not going to happen. EVER. There's too many things against a couple like the proverbial us. His parents, our Houses, our beliefs, although that is a flimsy shield, and a bunch of other things.
Impossible.
"Urg! She's a Gryffindor," he said disgustedly. Hufflepuff may be the worst, but Gryffindor comes in second.
Again, she was right about the things that would be against a couple like that—Slytherin and Gryffindor.
But then again, it sounds like she hates where she is now. And this meeting with Blaise? What was she thinking? Blaise was notoriously rough with his girls. He always stopped just short of brutalizing them. Draco did not approve, but there was nothing he could do. He almost wished he had been the one to catch her, if only to know her name.
For a moment, he wondered what year she was in again, but discarded that. A Gryffindor? Please. Yes, Pansy is a little unfaithful now and then, but so is he. They forgave each other and always came back to one another. There is no doubt about that.
But still, a lioness? Would a serpent know what to do with a lioness? Probably not. That is why he never moved passed his 'hobby'. Draco was curious. He admitted it, but he would have gotten over this 'hobby' were it not for her. She was a lioness, too, and a spirited one as well.
November 12I feel weird. I've been like this ever since Harry and Malfoy got into that fight.
Oh, I didn't write about it. I meant to, but I guess I didn't. Anyway, here's what happened:
Harry and I were arguing over a Transfiguration essay when Weasel, Seamus, Dean, and a few of the girls came over. Harry got the last word in and walked away alone.
I guess Malfoy was walking by and saw Harry alone. I don't know what exactly was said (I'm not blaming either one), but they got into a fistfight. I admit I cheered for Malfoy. Harry has been such a prat lately. I winced inside when Harry punched him.
McGonagall showed up, gave them both detention, and took points off both Gryffindor and Slytherin.
I didn't really care if Harry was okay, but I wanted to see if Malfoy was. But that wouldn't have looked good. Instead, I had to act as though I cared about Harry. He believed it, as did the others. How scary is that that I can deceive my friends?
Anyway, I felt weird afterwards. I think it has something to do with Malfoy. Yes, he's handsome. He is a pureblood, you know. He's sophisticated and debonair. He doesn't give a shit what others think. He does what he wants whenever he wants.
He's like the lake, I think. It looks calm and collected, like a mask. Underneath, though, there's secrets. I don't know what they are and I respect him enough not to speculate.
As I write, this feeling becomes clearer. I think, I think I like him.
She has no idea who I am. How can she like me? Draco thought.
But he did remember that fight with Potter. He had said something about Granger, but could not remember what it was. They had gotten into a fight and McGonagall appeared. Weasley, Finnegan, and Thomas were held back by Weasley's sister, Lavender Brown, Pavarti Patil, and Granger predictably.
The girls had fussed over Potter like he could not even walk. It could not be Lavender because she was already mentioned by name. So, it was either the Weaselette, Patil, or Granger.
Draco calmed his pounding heart. He had the journal of Weasley, Patil, or Granger. He did not think it could be Weasley because she called Ron 'Weasel', but it was possible.
He flipped back to the past entries. The difference was very stunning. Was she schizophrenic? It was dark and then it was light. How contradicting of her.
December 5I hate Harry Potter! Yes, I know. I've been through this before, but I hate him even more now!
How dare he do it! Ooh, I can't even write it now!
Just...bleah! I feel so dirty! How could he do such a thing to me? I should not have kissed him even in jest. Bleah! Yuck! I need a shower.
My body keeps shivering and I can already see bruises forming from where he grabbed me. I suppose if someone reads this, they'll suspect the worst. That he raped me.
But he didn't. He came close, but I managed to hit him over the head with a heavy book several times. Merlin, it was scary. His eyes were so dark and angry as he held me down. He wouldn't let me go, no matter how much I begged him. How will I face him tomorrow?
I wish I were dead.
"Merlin's beard," Draco hissed. Harry Potter, rapist? True, he was a pain in the ass and a fucking Golden Boy, but to force a girl to have sex. The implications were enormous.
While he, Draco Malfoy, was referred to as a bastard and the like, he never had done such a thing to a girl. If the girl was the least bit hesitant, he turned and walked away. A man had to have standards and Draco took no pleasure in pushing an unwilling girl to sexual gratification.
He read the next entry.
December 8He's taken to watching me every time I'm in the same room as him. His green eyes look hungry to me and inside, I shake. He hasn't mentioned what nearly happened in the Astronomy tower.
I don't know what's wrong with him. He is starting to scare me. I try not to be left alone in the same room with him. I've succeeded so far, but my luck will run out.
I heard this song playing sometime this summer and I just had to buy the cd it was on. My cd player doesn't work since there's so much magic in the air here, but I brought the lyrics. I didn't really get the song, but now it touches me. Here it is.
HauntedLong lost words whisper slowly to me
Still can't find what keeps me here
When all this time I've been so hollow inside
I know you're still there
Watching me wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Fearing you loving you
I won't let you pull me down
Hunting you I can smell you—alive
Your heart pounding in my head
Watching me wanting me
I can feel you pull me down
Saving me raping me
Watching me
That's by the band Evanescence. And it's true. Harry has saved me, but now I'm wishing he hadn't so that I'd be dead. So, that I wouldn't have to deal with this.
This was not right. Whoever she was, she did not deserve this. No female deserved what Potter was doing.
Draco made a point not to feel anything in front of anyone, but now, he wished he had not been such a bastard. Maybe if he were not, this girl would have approached him for help. But no, he was as set in his ways as ever, only experiencing regret now and then.
Snap.
He stilled and rolled into the shadow of the tree. He held his breath as a large hulking figure lumbered passed him. Oh, it was only that fucking oaf of a professor, Hagrid. He came out from the Forbidden Forrest and walked to his stupid rustic hut. The door opened and shut.
He rolled his eyes. Why did those fucking idiotic Gryffindorks support that fucker? They know he is dangerous, but do they care? No, they do not. Stupid, really, but not his problem.
He scanned the entry he had read once more. If he had known Potter was pulling this shit, he would have hexed Potter instead of physically hitting the bastard. He hated guys who did that, forcing a girl.
Blaise toed that line, but the girls he was always with liked it rough, so he did not do anything about that.
December 18Whenever Harry starts staring at me, I think about Malfoy. I really think I like him. I won't go so far as to say I love him. Maybe I will. I do think I love him. I may not know him, but I love the idea of him. That's not the same thing, but it's the closest I will get.
I've seen him staring, too, but his eyes are not scary. and drive all thoughts of Harry away. How poetic. Stormy gray washing away the green of life.
This one's for you, Draco...
Bring Me To LifeHow can you see into my eyes like open doors
Leading you down into my core
Where I've become so numb without a soul
My spirit sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home
Wake me up inside
Wake me up inside
Call my name and save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become
Now that I know what I'm without
You can't just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real
Bring me to life
Wake me up inside
Wake me up inside
Call my name and save me from the dark
Bid my blood to run before I come undone
Save me from the nothing I've become
Bring me to life
Frozen inside without your touch without your love
Darling only you are the life among the dead
All this time I can't believe I couldn't see
Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me
I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems
Got to open my eyes to everything
Without a thought without a voice without a soul
Don't let me die here there must be something more
Bring me to life"I wish I knew who she was." The girl surprised him. A song dedicated to him? No one had done that for him, not even Pansy. He wondered if she really did love him.
Draco skipped through the next few entries, looking for something good. Finally he found it.
December 27Christmas was okay. I had to stay here at Hogwarts for the holiday. But I sort of isolated myself from my friends. I had begun to think about some things. For instance, the upcoming war against Voldemort.
I don't like war and yet, there is something about it. The violence, the carnage. Death and blood, sometimes not even blood because of a spell or body because of incineration. I try not to think too much about war and how it affects people, but sometimes I cannot help it.
War is horrible. It's about power, greed, the need to dominate. It's around us all the time, even if we can't see it.
War is pure. It's nature.
Nature is one big war zone with millions of billions of battles happening all the time. Animals are constantly trying to survive. I think that's the point of life—of evolution.
Survival.
It ties in with the law of nature. Kill or be killed.
Even humans follow it. Those humans don't have any morality or compassion. They do what they need to do.
But others...like soldiers, for example. They go to war for their country, for honor and beliefs. They have to kill because if they don't they'll be killed themselves. But they have memory. They remember the things they've done. The things they had to do because it could've meant the difference between life or death.
They can forget if they choose, but some can't seem to forget. Over and over, they'll relive it. Maybe because it's shaken them, scared them by their own cold-bloodedness.
I can sort of understand. Sometimes my friends, my family, professors, somebody, make me angry. Very angry. I keep it in. Hide it. I guess that's why most people think I'm a goody-goody.
When I'm doing something like cutting roots in Potions or using shears in Herbology and I think of how easy it would be to just stick it in someone. Slice someone. Or maybe beat somebody. Hit them in the face, the stomach, hit them on their back, kick them when they're down. And I can't believe that I, me!, that I am thinking these thoughts. It frightens me a lot. It makes me feel wrong, evil. I don't want to be evil. I want to be good. I want to be innocent!
But I can't help but think if Voldemort feels like this. Wanting to hurt someone, anyone, but holding back.
I don't know why exactly wars happen. There's so many complications and things to factor in. Is there such a thing as freedom? There has to be rules and a system. So that rules it out, I think.
What a world to live in.
It is official. She is a complete whack job as the muggles say. The girl has homicidal tendencies. She probably is sadistic.
What a night to sneak outside and find the journal of a girl who should be in St. Mungo's. Crazy, man.
He thought about what she wrote about the Dark Lord. Draco believed it. The Dark Lord was very controlled. He would not allow himself to just hurt somebody without thinking it through.
He was actually worried about this girl. It did not matter if she was a Gryffindor. Yes, the war was coming. It would probably erupt after school ended. He knew Voldemort was biding his time right now, but who knows how long that would go.
February 15"Hey, that's today," Draco mused aloud.
I'm sorry I haven't written since the first of January, but I had a lot to do and a lot had happened. I haven't cracked yet, but I feel it just beneath the surface of the mask I wear.
Harry Potter finally succeeded in getting me alone. He managed to finish what he had started. I haven't told anyone yet. I still feel dirty inside. I don't know what to do.
"Damn the bastard," he muttered. How dare Potter to do such a thing to a female! As of tomorrow, he is giving the damn Golden Boy the beating of his life.
My grades are slipping and my mother wrote again, encouraging me to pick it up again. I burned her letter.
I'm not eating right and I'm skipping meals. Thank Merlin boys are not allowed in the girls dormitory. I think Potter would have snuck into my room and try to do it again. He's been teasing me about it, threatening to tell our friends that I hit on him if I didn't go to him again.
I can't stand him. I'm afraid of him. I don't want to go on. I can't go on. He's always watching, waiting.
I wish I was dead, but if I were, I never would have seen the look of rebellion in Draco's storm gray eyes when Zabini goaded him to insult me before Potions class.
His breathing became erratic. It cannot be her. No, he refused to believe it.
He only looked at me and said to Zabini that he had better things to do than lower himself to trading insults with a mudblood.
I forgave him the instant when I say that look in his eyes. I know now that he isn't the cold pureblood everyone believes him to be. Yes, his words hurt me about worshipping Potter, but again, I found it in my heart to forgive him.
I wish things were different, but they're not. I wish I had the courage to tell him how I feel about him. I wish I could tell him that I loved him.
I wish you would, too, he thought. A small tear rolled down his cheek. He could not deny it was her.
But it's too late. My course is set. I have already made up my mind and no one can dissuade me.
I will tell you one last secret.
One last secret? Last?
I know you're reading this, Draco.
"Holy fuck!"
I've been watching you for a while and followed you to this tree whenever you vanished from the eyes of your bodyguards. I left this here because I know you would not hesitate to read this journal. I want to tell you I love you.
I don't care if you turn dark or good. To me, you're just Draco Malfoy. You are not who you seem and be proud of that. It's something no one else sees and that gives you an advantage.
I don't know what you will do with your life, but whatever it is, stick to your instincts. They'll usually save your life.
If you go to Voldemort, tell him what Potter did to me. I know he will use it to his advantage. When Potter gets angry, he becomes shortsighted. Tell him that, too.
If you go to Dumbledore, keep your guard up even more than if you had gone to Voldemort. While the light has one common goal, there are still differences among the members and alliances. There are many who have their own agenda. Be wary.
I love you. It may not matter to you, but it does to me. In my wildest dreams, you loved me in return. I don't really care nor do I want to know if you do or don't. You will do great things, Draco.
Draco. I've always loved your name. Dragon, it means, and you are. Secretive, powerful, seductive.
Hmm. I wish...I wish. Is that the only phrase I know?
Well, whatever I wish for, Draco, it doesn't matter. I love you and always will.
And so, I, Hermione 'Mudblood' Granger, bids you farewell and good luck. I wish you well in whatever you do, Draco. You better go in now. You will learn what I have done in the morning.
I ask one favor of you, dearest Draco. Keep this journal hidden. Do what you want with it, but keep it hidden.
Good-bye.
Draco wiped the tears from his eyes. Merlin, how could such words affect him so? He sat up slowly and leaned against the tree trunk.
It was Hermione. It was always Hermione. Her words always found its mark in him and he had always hidden it. That was why his hobby of watching her had started. He had wanted revenge for saying such biting words to him, but it had grown into something else. He could not deny that his heart felt curiously light when he read that she loved him.
He had taken to watching out for her every morning. He had noticed she was subdued of late, but thought it was something else. He should have known it was Potter's fault. The fucking bastard was cocky about something lately and it showed.
Draco decided to follow Hermione's advice and go in. Whatever she had done, he would learn tomorrow. As he walked silently to the Slytherin dungeons, he felt a tremble of something akin to fear. She had written that she could not go on and that her mind was made up, but about what?
He would find out tomorrow.
He muttered the password to enter the common room. It was late and no one was inside. He breathed a sigh of relief. He went up to his room and stealthily passed Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini's sleeping forms to get to his bed. He took off his clothes and stuffed them in his trunk. In his boxers, he slid beneath his sheets. Draco tenderly put Hermione's journal under his pillow.
He sighed and fell asleep.
Draco woke up the next morning before anyone else in the room. Crabbe and Goyle's snores were extremely loud this morning. Perhaps it is because he slipped them a sleeping potion.
He kicked Blaise's bed as he went by to take a shower. He closed the door and something heavy hit it. Draco opened it again to see Blaise's shoe a few feet away. Smirking, he took his time showering. Blaise pounded on the door. Draco carefully gelled his hair and left the bathroom. There were classes today and he put on his robes. Crabbe and Goyle were moving around, trying to get a few more minutes of sleep in. He smiled as he tucked Hermione's journal inside his robes.
When Blaise came out and put his school robes on, the two of them left for breakfast in the Great Hall.
More and more students trailed in and seated themselves at their tables. The morning mail came and went. Draco scanned the Gryffindor table for Hermione. She was not there. Her words began to haunt him.
'You will learn what I have done in the morning.'
He did not touch his food after that. But he did see Potter and Weasley talking to one another as time progressed. He noticed they spoke to Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil with concerned expressions on their faces. Ten minutes before class began, Dumbledore came into the Great Hall and asked for their attention.
The whole of the room did, Draco included.
"I am sorry to keep you from your classes, but there is some news I have to give," the old man began.
Draco felt his heart begin to pound.
"It is with deep regret that I must inform you all that Miss Hermione Granger has," he paused and closed his eyes. Then he opened them, "has taken her life late last night."
The entire Hall stilled.
Draco felt bile come up, but managed to keep it down. Blaise looked at him. He avoided his eyes. His mind refused to wrap around it. Hermione was gone? No, she could not be. She was up in the Gryffindor tower. Yeah, she was. She was on her way down now.
He filled his head and heart with these lies and nearly convinced himself that it was true, but he made one mistake.
He looked at Harry Potter. The Golden Boy looked more disappointed than shocked. Why should he be disappointed unless she really was...gone?
He felt an unholy emotion take hold of him. He could discern that it was something like anger, but it was darker, turbulent, and very much primeval than its tame cousin.
He saw Ron Weasley's face collapse in tears as he yelled at Pavarti and Lavender for lying.
"Hermione's not dead! She's up in her room sleeping! You were supposed to wake her up for breakfast!" he sobbed loudly as Ginny Weasley tried to comfort him. Potter was strangely silent.
Draco balled up his fists as he stared at Potter. It was Potter's fault that Hermione was dead. He vowed to make that fucking shithead pay for what he had done. He would never see her face again light up with happiness at getting an answer right. He would never be able to take her in his arms. He would never be able to kiss her. He would never make love to her.
He stopped.
Make love to her?
Horror came upon him as dawning comprehension forced him to one terrifying conclusion.
He loved her.
He, Draco Malfoy, loved Hermione Granger.
He felt a single burning tear trace a path down his left cheek as his heart broke.
Hermione was dead.
He closed his eyes.
"Draco?" he heard Blaise ask quietly.
His eyes opened, now dry. He glared at Potter.
"He will pay for what he has done. I swear it," he vowed vehemently.
Blaise backed off at his words.
Dumbledore announced, "This turn of events calls for cancellation of classes for today. You are dismissed to go back to your dormitories."
Draco shoved away from the table. He purposely bumped into Potter.
"Watch where you are going, Ferret!" Potter snarled.
He backed away, pleased with what he had seen in the other boy's eyes. He saw disappointment and anger.
"Draco! Where are you going?" Blaise asked once he caught up with him.
"To the Owlery. I have decided to take up my father's offer."