How Many Times.?
Chapter Two~ Head Boy Hits Bottom
After putting 'Aspire to Nothing' in his trunk for transportation to Hogwarts, Draco didn't touch or think about the book for weeks. Stress had beaten a large hole through the boy's heart and was leaving him moodier than ever. Expectations from the professors had quadrupled since second semester last year. Exams were still a good two months away, but with the extra bar from the teachers, his peers, and the gap between those and his own, the ladder was becoming impossible to climb.
The first moment Draco realized he might die if he kept up the ten hours of work he did (after classes) was three days before Halloween. The text on the paper shifted wildly back and forth in front of his eyes. He'd restarted the fire two times since everyone left the common room. The silver sheen of the marble walls played tricks on him, moving closer and curving around his weak form. The last four pages of the chapter seemed to fall away to his feet and his hand color merged with the pages.
It was a dead feeling, but he was still so awake. The feeling was almost his momentary consciousness throughout each and every day. As captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, he was appointing their top beater to oversee practices while he went to the library. Nobody dared to point out that he should take a break from the labor that tortured him. His meals were constantly cut short when he thought of another point he could make in this paper or an interesting detail that would add to that fact.
Draco was brilliant; there was no doubt about that. He just seemed brilliantly stupid for doing all of it to himself. So in that moment of realization, Draco didn't think a damn thing. Everything went pitch black, and it was miraculously comforting. He fell limply to the cold, stone floor. Sleep would have his soul for now.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Draco was found the next morning by Professor Snape checking through the dorms. The professor levitated the slumbering boy to the hospital wing where he was given a proper draught of an energy restraint, sleeping potion, and left him to sleep off the death.
Madame Pomfrey determined it would require four doses with wake- breaks in between to recover the youth. For something to do, Snape left a book he had found in the Head's trunk and some parchment beside Draco's bed. Each time he woke up he felt immensely better, but the feeling never lasted long. Draco tried to read the first few pages of the book that had appeared at his side, 'Aspire to Nothing', but he could never concentrate or completely comprehend the words.
Sleep was a wonderful thing, he realized. A rare and precious gift in his schedule, yet he remembered it as a necessity in his former years. The past obviously didn't count anymore. He had responsibilities now, to everyone. Madame Pomfrey tried to convince him other wise yet push him at the same time.
"Mr. Malfoy, you cannot keep this technique. There are more important things. Even Miss Granger settles for average to keep her happiness above such!" she explained.
Draco snorted. "And I'm supposed to follow the Head Girl's example!"
"Well, she is the Head Girl for a reason."
"I'm Head Boy for a reason!" Draco yelled. "I'm the one that works the hardest, and I'll be the one who gets the farthest in life, and I'll be the one with the best life because of it!" He immediately lay down on the bed again and tried to force himself to sleep. He wouldn't dare acknowledge the truth in the nurse's words.
Madame Pomfrey sighed, hoping that someday, Malfoy would know what he had said was exactly what would be true except for the exact opposite; he would be of high position with zero happiness.
Draco fell back asleep in a matter of minutes. He usually didn't have dreams, and the few that he did have, he never remembered them. Most of the time, his dreams would portray some of the most beautiful scenes in the world, sometimes he would see his perfect life after graduation, and sometimes the dreams were black with a woman's soothing song ringing through every bit of his mind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The melody was so loud in his ears; it seemed to fill the whole castle wing. Hauntingly magnificent, the waltz of worldly adoration floated wispfully in the depths of his brain.
Draco never wanted it to end. His heart would fill with a thick, rich love for the peace and float to the clouds of serenity. He only wished it could go on.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Draco woke slowly, but not unwillingly. Every breath he inhaled was refreshing, as if his lungs were filled with heaven. The moment his eyelids lifted, sunlight, bold and brilliant, pierced his dream-blank head.
Draco caste his gaze down towards the other end of the room. At the corner of his bed, twiddling her thumbs and looking around nervously, was none other than the Head Girl. She looked as if she'd done something wrong.
"Why on earth are you here?" Draco mumbled. Hermione jumped in her chair, letting out a small squeal in shock.
"Hey, Malfoy," she finally said, walking over to the side of the bed, "how are you doing, besides scaring the bloody hell out of people?"
Draco squinted in question. "Fine. I'm fine."
"Good." Hermione just looked at him, not knowing what else to say.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Draco was used to being uncomfortable and just stared straight up at Hermione's almost twitching face.
"So," Draco began, "why are you here again?"
"I just," she began in reply, but she suddenly became frustrated with herself. She pulled the chair she had been sitting in under her again. "Look, Malfoy. I know how you got yourself in here and." Hermione paused. She looked up at Draco leaning on his elbows. "And if you need any help, ever, I can-"
"I don't need help, Hermione." Draco sat straight up and stared at the other wall. Calling her by her first name would make her listen and know he was serious. He kept staring for at least a minute. Now that he tried, he couldn't remember his dream, or did he have a dream?
"I suppose I have a lot of work to catch up on."
Hermione stood up.
"And I guess I've put us behind on all the planning."
"Actually, now that you mention it, I was wondering if the idea of a carnival would blow over well with you."
Draco turned to Hermione.
"Of course, you wouldn't have to do a thing; I'll plan everything for it."
"What's a carnival?"
For a moment Hermione was stunned. Then she remembered who she was speaking with; Draco knew nothing about Muggle activities.
"A carnival is," Hermione started, "a sort of festival Muggles have with games and food and."
Draco face froze. He didn't look very excited, much less convinced of the idea.
"They're real fun." Hermione tried, "I promise."
"Sounds like it." Draco smirked.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I wish I could go have some fun right now instead of make-up homework and badgering of 'worried students'. Merlin, I even wish I could be a carefree, little Muggle with a girlfriend and free-time.
It must be afternoon; the sun's pretty low. Some fresh air will do me some good.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As Draco got up from the hospital bed, Hermione walked to the foot of it to intercept him.
"Where are you going?" Now that she stood right in front of the tall blond, she wasn't so confident she could make him rest. "You should rest some more and-"
"I'm going on a walk, Granger. You mind?"
Hermione looked down while Draco sauntered over to the door.
"But."
"If you want to come."
Silence. Draco wondered if he'd really just said that. Hermione wondered the same. Draco turned back around to face her.
He could only say one thing. "Well?"
Hermione all of the sudden looked uncomfortable, like she had done something wrong again.
"Sure," she said weakly, "I guess it couldn't hurt." She looked up, and then added, "Too much."
Draco smirked and walked out the door.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This could go a couple of ways. There could be a really awkward, irritating silence OR she could blab on and on about school and planning events OR I could end up ravaging the poor girl under the sunset. I don't really care for any of the choices.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Draco could hear Hermione jogging behind to catch up with him. For the duration of the walk through the halls of Hogwarts, they listened to their footsteps' echo off the stone.
Finally, they were outside. The wind was getting colder with the coming of dusk and winter. Hermione folded her arms across her chest and wished she had her cloak, but Draco knew the chill was no worse than that in his own home.
The silence followed, but it was not in the least awkward. The two watched the sunset as if the other was not there. They watched as deep blue gained ground slowly, fighting off the last defense of day. Yellow vanished first, then orange, pink, and as the last band of purple was about to fade into the distant horizon, Draco felt as though he should interrupt the quite.
"So tell me more about this carnival."
Hermione seemed eager to explain what she could. "Well, like I said before, there are games, which we could adapt to be more wizard like, there are these booths which have various things at them, and there are food stands, of course. I don't really know what else to say; you'd have to see it, I guess."
"Fair enough. When will we have it?" Draco asked.
"I guess we could do it before Christmas, or around Valentine's Day, or in the spring," answered Hermione, stopping to face Draco.
"Why Valentine's Day?"
"Because couples always have fun at the Muggle ones!" Hermione started to chew at her nails. It was good he was asking questions; it helped her straighten out her own logic on the subject.
"What do the people who aren't part of a couple do?" Draco wanted to know what he would have to do in this situation.
"They can hang out with their friends or something."
"Hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle? I don't think so," Draco mumbled under his breath. Hermione heard him.
"Fine; we'll have it some other time then! Before Christmas, perhaps?"
Draco sighed. "No good; Hogsmeade trip."
"Right." Hermione groaned in frustration.
"Spring then?" Draco encouraged.
"It'll have to be."
More silence. Hermione put her hands by her sides, nibbling her lower lip.
"So," she tried to begin.
"How much work did I miss?" Draco interrupted.
"Is that all you ever think about?" Hermione snapped.
"You do more than I do, Granger, so why do you care?"
"I don't, but at the same time I do."
Draco looked at her. "What are you talking about?"
"I'll help you if you want."
"Bloody hell, woman," Draco spat, "I don't need your help. I already told you that. Now just tell me how much dammed work I have to make up!"
"None."
Draco stopped. "What?"
"The teachers, all of them, said you wouldn't have to make up any of the missed assignments." Draco was turning to walk back to the castle.
"They know you can do the work," Hermione continued after him, "They know we can only do so much."
Draco kept walking, staring straight ahead. He didn't want sympathy or a break because of weakness, and he definitely didn't want less because he couldn't do more. How pathetic would the world think him?
He turned and stopped, breathing in to keep himself calm. "Hermione just let me finish my last year."
She stopped.
"Please."
"What's doing this to you, Mal.?" She still couldn't bring herself to call him by his name. She took a step forward. "I mean Draco."
He turned back around. This walking was causing more stress than it was getting rid of. He wanted out now. He started off towards the castle, storming through the dying grass.
"You can't be making yourself do it, Draco."
He kept walking.
"What is it? Who is it? Is it your father, Draco? Is that who it is?" Hermione had to yell so he could hear her. She heard a faint 'goodnight' as Draco disappeared into the darkness.
"Urgh!" she grunted in frustration, hurling a feather she'd been carrying to the ground. It caught in the air and lightly wafted to the grass. She kicked at the dirt.
"Damn him."
Chapter Two~ Head Boy Hits Bottom
After putting 'Aspire to Nothing' in his trunk for transportation to Hogwarts, Draco didn't touch or think about the book for weeks. Stress had beaten a large hole through the boy's heart and was leaving him moodier than ever. Expectations from the professors had quadrupled since second semester last year. Exams were still a good two months away, but with the extra bar from the teachers, his peers, and the gap between those and his own, the ladder was becoming impossible to climb.
The first moment Draco realized he might die if he kept up the ten hours of work he did (after classes) was three days before Halloween. The text on the paper shifted wildly back and forth in front of his eyes. He'd restarted the fire two times since everyone left the common room. The silver sheen of the marble walls played tricks on him, moving closer and curving around his weak form. The last four pages of the chapter seemed to fall away to his feet and his hand color merged with the pages.
It was a dead feeling, but he was still so awake. The feeling was almost his momentary consciousness throughout each and every day. As captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, he was appointing their top beater to oversee practices while he went to the library. Nobody dared to point out that he should take a break from the labor that tortured him. His meals were constantly cut short when he thought of another point he could make in this paper or an interesting detail that would add to that fact.
Draco was brilliant; there was no doubt about that. He just seemed brilliantly stupid for doing all of it to himself. So in that moment of realization, Draco didn't think a damn thing. Everything went pitch black, and it was miraculously comforting. He fell limply to the cold, stone floor. Sleep would have his soul for now.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Draco was found the next morning by Professor Snape checking through the dorms. The professor levitated the slumbering boy to the hospital wing where he was given a proper draught of an energy restraint, sleeping potion, and left him to sleep off the death.
Madame Pomfrey determined it would require four doses with wake- breaks in between to recover the youth. For something to do, Snape left a book he had found in the Head's trunk and some parchment beside Draco's bed. Each time he woke up he felt immensely better, but the feeling never lasted long. Draco tried to read the first few pages of the book that had appeared at his side, 'Aspire to Nothing', but he could never concentrate or completely comprehend the words.
Sleep was a wonderful thing, he realized. A rare and precious gift in his schedule, yet he remembered it as a necessity in his former years. The past obviously didn't count anymore. He had responsibilities now, to everyone. Madame Pomfrey tried to convince him other wise yet push him at the same time.
"Mr. Malfoy, you cannot keep this technique. There are more important things. Even Miss Granger settles for average to keep her happiness above such!" she explained.
Draco snorted. "And I'm supposed to follow the Head Girl's example!"
"Well, she is the Head Girl for a reason."
"I'm Head Boy for a reason!" Draco yelled. "I'm the one that works the hardest, and I'll be the one who gets the farthest in life, and I'll be the one with the best life because of it!" He immediately lay down on the bed again and tried to force himself to sleep. He wouldn't dare acknowledge the truth in the nurse's words.
Madame Pomfrey sighed, hoping that someday, Malfoy would know what he had said was exactly what would be true except for the exact opposite; he would be of high position with zero happiness.
Draco fell back asleep in a matter of minutes. He usually didn't have dreams, and the few that he did have, he never remembered them. Most of the time, his dreams would portray some of the most beautiful scenes in the world, sometimes he would see his perfect life after graduation, and sometimes the dreams were black with a woman's soothing song ringing through every bit of his mind.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The melody was so loud in his ears; it seemed to fill the whole castle wing. Hauntingly magnificent, the waltz of worldly adoration floated wispfully in the depths of his brain.
Draco never wanted it to end. His heart would fill with a thick, rich love for the peace and float to the clouds of serenity. He only wished it could go on.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Draco woke slowly, but not unwillingly. Every breath he inhaled was refreshing, as if his lungs were filled with heaven. The moment his eyelids lifted, sunlight, bold and brilliant, pierced his dream-blank head.
Draco caste his gaze down towards the other end of the room. At the corner of his bed, twiddling her thumbs and looking around nervously, was none other than the Head Girl. She looked as if she'd done something wrong.
"Why on earth are you here?" Draco mumbled. Hermione jumped in her chair, letting out a small squeal in shock.
"Hey, Malfoy," she finally said, walking over to the side of the bed, "how are you doing, besides scaring the bloody hell out of people?"
Draco squinted in question. "Fine. I'm fine."
"Good." Hermione just looked at him, not knowing what else to say.
There was an uncomfortable silence. Draco was used to being uncomfortable and just stared straight up at Hermione's almost twitching face.
"So," Draco began, "why are you here again?"
"I just," she began in reply, but she suddenly became frustrated with herself. She pulled the chair she had been sitting in under her again. "Look, Malfoy. I know how you got yourself in here and." Hermione paused. She looked up at Draco leaning on his elbows. "And if you need any help, ever, I can-"
"I don't need help, Hermione." Draco sat straight up and stared at the other wall. Calling her by her first name would make her listen and know he was serious. He kept staring for at least a minute. Now that he tried, he couldn't remember his dream, or did he have a dream?
"I suppose I have a lot of work to catch up on."
Hermione stood up.
"And I guess I've put us behind on all the planning."
"Actually, now that you mention it, I was wondering if the idea of a carnival would blow over well with you."
Draco turned to Hermione.
"Of course, you wouldn't have to do a thing; I'll plan everything for it."
"What's a carnival?"
For a moment Hermione was stunned. Then she remembered who she was speaking with; Draco knew nothing about Muggle activities.
"A carnival is," Hermione started, "a sort of festival Muggles have with games and food and."
Draco face froze. He didn't look very excited, much less convinced of the idea.
"They're real fun." Hermione tried, "I promise."
"Sounds like it." Draco smirked.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I wish I could go have some fun right now instead of make-up homework and badgering of 'worried students'. Merlin, I even wish I could be a carefree, little Muggle with a girlfriend and free-time.
It must be afternoon; the sun's pretty low. Some fresh air will do me some good.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
As Draco got up from the hospital bed, Hermione walked to the foot of it to intercept him.
"Where are you going?" Now that she stood right in front of the tall blond, she wasn't so confident she could make him rest. "You should rest some more and-"
"I'm going on a walk, Granger. You mind?"
Hermione looked down while Draco sauntered over to the door.
"But."
"If you want to come."
Silence. Draco wondered if he'd really just said that. Hermione wondered the same. Draco turned back around to face her.
He could only say one thing. "Well?"
Hermione all of the sudden looked uncomfortable, like she had done something wrong again.
"Sure," she said weakly, "I guess it couldn't hurt." She looked up, and then added, "Too much."
Draco smirked and walked out the door.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This could go a couple of ways. There could be a really awkward, irritating silence OR she could blab on and on about school and planning events OR I could end up ravaging the poor girl under the sunset. I don't really care for any of the choices.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Draco could hear Hermione jogging behind to catch up with him. For the duration of the walk through the halls of Hogwarts, they listened to their footsteps' echo off the stone.
Finally, they were outside. The wind was getting colder with the coming of dusk and winter. Hermione folded her arms across her chest and wished she had her cloak, but Draco knew the chill was no worse than that in his own home.
The silence followed, but it was not in the least awkward. The two watched the sunset as if the other was not there. They watched as deep blue gained ground slowly, fighting off the last defense of day. Yellow vanished first, then orange, pink, and as the last band of purple was about to fade into the distant horizon, Draco felt as though he should interrupt the quite.
"So tell me more about this carnival."
Hermione seemed eager to explain what she could. "Well, like I said before, there are games, which we could adapt to be more wizard like, there are these booths which have various things at them, and there are food stands, of course. I don't really know what else to say; you'd have to see it, I guess."
"Fair enough. When will we have it?" Draco asked.
"I guess we could do it before Christmas, or around Valentine's Day, or in the spring," answered Hermione, stopping to face Draco.
"Why Valentine's Day?"
"Because couples always have fun at the Muggle ones!" Hermione started to chew at her nails. It was good he was asking questions; it helped her straighten out her own logic on the subject.
"What do the people who aren't part of a couple do?" Draco wanted to know what he would have to do in this situation.
"They can hang out with their friends or something."
"Hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle? I don't think so," Draco mumbled under his breath. Hermione heard him.
"Fine; we'll have it some other time then! Before Christmas, perhaps?"
Draco sighed. "No good; Hogsmeade trip."
"Right." Hermione groaned in frustration.
"Spring then?" Draco encouraged.
"It'll have to be."
More silence. Hermione put her hands by her sides, nibbling her lower lip.
"So," she tried to begin.
"How much work did I miss?" Draco interrupted.
"Is that all you ever think about?" Hermione snapped.
"You do more than I do, Granger, so why do you care?"
"I don't, but at the same time I do."
Draco looked at her. "What are you talking about?"
"I'll help you if you want."
"Bloody hell, woman," Draco spat, "I don't need your help. I already told you that. Now just tell me how much dammed work I have to make up!"
"None."
Draco stopped. "What?"
"The teachers, all of them, said you wouldn't have to make up any of the missed assignments." Draco was turning to walk back to the castle.
"They know you can do the work," Hermione continued after him, "They know we can only do so much."
Draco kept walking, staring straight ahead. He didn't want sympathy or a break because of weakness, and he definitely didn't want less because he couldn't do more. How pathetic would the world think him?
He turned and stopped, breathing in to keep himself calm. "Hermione just let me finish my last year."
She stopped.
"Please."
"What's doing this to you, Mal.?" She still couldn't bring herself to call him by his name. She took a step forward. "I mean Draco."
He turned back around. This walking was causing more stress than it was getting rid of. He wanted out now. He started off towards the castle, storming through the dying grass.
"You can't be making yourself do it, Draco."
He kept walking.
"What is it? Who is it? Is it your father, Draco? Is that who it is?" Hermione had to yell so he could hear her. She heard a faint 'goodnight' as Draco disappeared into the darkness.
"Urgh!" she grunted in frustration, hurling a feather she'd been carrying to the ground. It caught in the air and lightly wafted to the grass. She kicked at the dirt.
"Damn him."