-A/N: I hope this chapter is liked by you readers out there, please review.-

-Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, they are J.K. Rowling's-

Chapter 4. No More

"Draco, it's like, eleven." Harry said, shoving Draco playfully. "Come on, get up."

"I am already up." Daco snapped, getting off the bed. He hadn't slept almost at all, his dreams were full of his fathers voices, and his mothers screams.

"Oh.. alright, sorry." Harry apologized, "No need to get angry or anything.." He rolled out of bed, and went into the bathroom to change, and shower. Draco seized the opportunity of Harry's absence.

"Um.. I'm going to the Library!" He shouted, so Harry could hear him. "I don't know when I'll be back." Without waiting for a response, he ran down the staircase, to find an empty common room. Despite his aching head, he ran out of the common room, and down the corridor. He didn't stop running until he got to the familiar stone gargoyles, who were actually bickering at one another.

"Password?" The left gargoyle asked, sounding annoyed by his arrival.

"Cockroach Clusters." Draco said confidently, after all, that's what it had been the day before.

"Revolting." The right gargoyle said nastily.

"Like you would know!" Came the left gargoyles retort.

"Actually..!" Draco didn't hear the rest of their argument, but knocked on Dumbledore's office door.

"Come in." Came a tired, worn voice.

Draco opened the door, and walked up to the desk, behind which Dumbledore was sitting with his chin resting upon his long fingers. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" The Headmaster asked gently.

"I.. I was wondering if I could leave now, sir?" Draco inquired.

"You may certainly, but where is Mr. Potter? I got the feeling the two of you were going together." Dumbledore's eyes looked sorry, and perhaps even knowing. Draco cringed.

"He.. he said he didn't want to come with me. Him and my father didn't get along." Draco lied. He didn't ask Harry to go to the funeral, he didn't want him there. It would prevent him from leaving Hogwarts, as he had planned. "So, he said he'd see me tomorrow, or later today. Whenever I get back, I guess."

"Mr. Malfoy, you and I both know you have no intention what-so-ever of returning to Hogwarts." Dumbledore said softly.

"No, I do not." Draco agreed. Why lie, after all? " I do not wish to stay here, I don't wish to ever come back."

The Headmaster studied his student for a few minutes before responding. "Mr. Malfoy, I don't think it would be a good idea, to go off on your own at this time. Someone who does not respect your family, is out of control, and probably waiting for you to reveal yourself, as I am positive he knew you well enough." He said wisely.

"How would you know? You don't know who did it, you don't know if my father killed him before he was murdered.. He could have.. Have.. " Draco's voice went out, and he stopped talking abruptly as his emotions threatened to show themselves.

"You are quite right. He could have, but your father was caught off-gaurd by the attack, as was your mother. These were planned attacks, Draco. I think you should know that they were commited by someone who knew your family, and even you. I do not think it wise for you to go to the funeral by yourself, nor do I think it best for you to never return to Hogwarts."

Draco got to his feet furiously, "YOU DIDN'T KNOW MY FATHER! YOU DIDN'T KNOW MY MOTHER, OR MY FAMILY!" He yelled. "THEY HATED YOU!" He breathed rapidly for a moment, and rage filled his features, fire returned to his eyes. "I HATE YOU!"

"No, Draco, you do not hate me." Dumbledore said lightly.

Draco could have killed him. "FUCK YOU!" He roared, turning away from him, and bolting to the door. He opened it, and ran down the corridor. His lungs were burning, his legs begging for rest, his heart threatening to quit. He stopped running as he reached the dungeons, and entered the Slytherin Common Room. It looked different from how he had remembered it, but he really didn't care at the moment.

The dormitory was empty, just as Draco had wanted it. He slid down the wall, grabbing his green and black colored knife. He pulled his sleeve back, revealing pearl scars, a reminder of his previous year at Hogwarts. He set his knife down on the hard floor, and ran a finger over the scars. His expression hardened, and he picked up his knife again, flipping it open. There were a few blood stains on it, but not many, he normally cleaned it off after he used it.

He pressed the blade to his skin, blood budded around the knife, easing it deeper into the flesh of Draco's arm. Blood ran freely over Draco's pale forearm, and he watched it drip onto the floor, and soak into his robes. He didn't care anymore, if he died right here. This was the end, as far as he was concerned. After making several more deep gashes into his arm, Draco wiped off the knife, his only escape, on his robes, and shook his sleeve down over the still-bleeding wounds.

He walked to a desk in the dormitory, grabbed parchment, a quill, and an ink bottle. Uncorking the ink hastily, he dipped his quill into it and wrote;

Harry,

I'm leaving Hogwarts, you won't ever see me again.

Goodbye,

Draco

His handwriting was hardly legible, his shaking hand not working properly. His ink somewhat smeared from his bloodied sleeve, but left no trace of blood. He rolled up the small bit of parchment, shoved it into his pocket, and ran out of the dormitory, pocketing his knife. He finally stopped running through the corridors, and leaned against a wall, his emotions having a holiday;

I love him, I do.

No, you don't.

I'll never see him again.

HE won't see YOU again.

I can't do this.

You have to, you're a Malfoy.

Regaining his normal emotionless composure, which had apparently taken an extended absence, he walked up the staircase, until he reached the most familiar corridor.

Harry's corridor.

Draco scowled, he was so pathetic. Alright, let's end this.. this infatuation. He thought to himself, growing steadily more anxious. The Fat Lady swung forward to admit Draco, as he was currently allowed in the Gryffindor Common Room. He walked steadily and purposefully through the Common Room, recieving vicious looks from Gryffindors. Reaching the staircase to the dormitories, he started a brisk walk, which became a slow jog, that soon morphed into an all-out sprint. He skipped the last few steps, and landed feet from Harry, which he hadn't hoped for.

"Draco? I thought you left already.." Harry said uneasily, walking up to the Slytherin.

"I did, Potter. But I almost forgot something." Draco said, he watched Harry's expression as he called him 'Potter'. Harry looked terrified behind those defiant emerald eyes.

"What would that be, Draco?" Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, but Draco stepped away from him. Harry stood, his eyes boring into Draco's.

"Here." Draco put his hand in his pocket, and fumbled for the note he had scribbled so quickly. His fingers skimmed parchment, and he pulled the note from his pocket, extending his hand out to Harry, who took the note with a trembling hand. Draco turned away from Harry, unable to take it any longer, the feeling of despair, his heart had to be ripping into bloody chunks. He walked, his legs pure marshmallow, down the stairs, increasingly more wobbly as he reached the Common Room.

He didn't remember passing out, he only remembered several shocked voices, and then nothingness. He opened his eyes, and with dread he identified the white walls, the warm bed, as the Infirmary. Fuck, he thought. His plans had been ruined, all because he was weak. Weak, pathetic, fragile: Not one of his father's traits. He would never walk in his father's emotionless footsteps. His pale eyes grew watery, as a tear slid down his cheek and soaked into his pillow. He looked down to his right arm, it was bandaged, blood had soaked through.

He stayed still for what seemed like hours, thoughts intruding his troubled mind. Thoughts of Harry, of his Father, and mother. He wondered if Harry had come down to visit him, but shook the thought, and scolded himself for even thinking of it. He finally turned his head, and spotted a piece of parchment sitting on the small, wooden bedside table. He snatched it up, and unfolded it, his eyes traveling over the untidy handwriting:

Draco,

I know why we can't see each other, and I understand. I don't think that you should leave Hogwarts, it would be dangerous of you to do so. I'm asking you, as a friend, as a lover, to stay. I understand if you do not wish to see me ever again, to not talk with me.

I hope that you won't cut yourself anymore, as Mrs. Pomfrey has discovered. You fainted in the Gryffindor Common Room, from blood loss. Why did you do this to yourself? It pains me to see you in such agony, and know that I cannot do anything to stop it. I hope you forgive me, for not giving you space, and forcing you into a relationship with me, of which I see, you clearly didn't want.

Please think about what I have said in this note, particularly the part about not leaving Hogwarts. I want you to also know that I will always be here for you, whether you want me to be or not, Draco. I love you, no matter what happens.

-Harry

Draco re-read the letter, for what must have been hundreds of times, before ripping it apart, and throwing it down on the floor. He couldn't put up with Harry right now. He had to go to the funeral, he'd worry about everything later.

Jumping out of bed, Draco found, to his astonishment, that he was still in his robes, that Mrs. Pomfrey had not changed him into pajamas. For this, he was grateful, he would have looked like a git at his parents' funeral in bedclothes. He looked around the bright Hospital Wing, and walked out of the entrance, meeting no one once he did. He walked down to the Entrance Hall, hiding behind statues when he saw anyone he knew, or teachers.

He knew that the funeral would be at the Malfoy Mansion, and he could only think of one way to get there: Severus Snape. He knocked on the dungeon office door, and heard someone shuffle up to the door. It opened, and Draco was greeted by an unhappy glare from his favorite professor.

"Yes, Malfoy?" Snape drawled nastily.

"I needed to ask you a favour, sir." Draco said quietly.

"And that would be?" Snape was enjoying himself, and Draco knew it.

"I need you to take me to my parents' funeral.." said Draco, trying not to let his voice falter.

"Oh? As angry as I am with you, I cannot deny you Lucius and Narcissa's funeral." Snape said, his voice slightly less harsh.

"Thankyou, Professor." Draco said gratefully, he had always liked Snape.

"Come, we must leave, the funeral is in twenty minutes." Snape said, walking from his office, Draco at his heels. "Side-Along apparition will work, we will need to walk to the school gates."

Draco nodded wordlessly, intently following the Potions professor all the way to the large gates, where two winged-boars stood. "Take my arm, Draco."

Draco did as he was instructed, and felt Snape twist under his grasp. The appeared at the familiar house, at which Draco himself lived. There were a number of people appearing, dressed entirely in black, looking solemn. "Thankyou, sir." Draco said again, as he walked to the front door of the Malfoy mansion. The door opened for him, and walked into the spectacular house. He walked to the stairs, which he climbed, up two flights of stairs, to his room. Easing open the door, Draco peered in. It looked oddly vacant, without his parents behind him, welcoming him home, asking how his year at Hogwarts had been.

He walked to his dresser, where he pulled clean black dress robes, of which he had never worn. He put them on slowly, his injured forearm searing with pain. After slicking back his untidy hair, and checking his appearance in a mirror, he joined the rest of his family and several friends of his Mother and Father in the backyard of the mansion.

-A/N This chapter just exploded into my head, I hope it makes some sense, and I hope you like it. Review, please, telling me what you think, and maybe your veiws on Draco's change of feelings.-