Why Should It Matter?

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I didn't have time to send it to my beta… so I hope that it doesn't have too many errors

I APOLOGIZE… for not update for so long. I've been extremely busy and just got time to finish this chapter. It was never supposed to be this long, but since I haven't updated in the longest time, I figured that I would post something big. With school coming, posts will be spaced out, but I'm hoping it is not going to be over a month like this one.

Chapter Fourteen: The Ups and Downs of Life

Unnatural feelings existed briefly before being voided by the constant fear that circulated throughout his body. His hands trembled with worry, unable to understand his carelessness. His secret was no longer a secret, which frightened him. He needed to get away, far away. Running to a darken corner of the dungeons, Draco threw himself down, only to be assaulted by those tainted words.

'The epitome of weakness. You're completely worthless. If you weren't my sole heir, I would kill you.' Those words rebounded madly, leaving little room for rational thinking.

Draco tried to shake those thoughts, but nothing could remove his father's hateful words. Those heartless words that he muttered on that night.

'Damnit, stop it! Stop thinking about that night!' Leaning against a stone wall, Draco deeply sighed. The only thing that he was remotely happy about was the fact the dungeons had a vast amount of hiding places. He needed isolation away from the watchful glares of Blaise.

He groaned inwardly, 'Blaise knows my secret. He knows I'm a cutter.' The blonde Slytherin realized only trouble would arise from that, especially since Blaisewas un-Slytherin to an extreme. He knew that a countless amount of lectures would be coming from his fellow house member, but nothing would stick.

Nothing would ever stop Draco, because he didn't want help. Help required concern and pity, and he was definitely undeserving of anything of that manner. He could only hope his well-placed façade would hold up against to the remainder of school. All Draco needed to do was hold his bitter grudge against Potter for imprisoning his father…

Draco laughed bitterly, sending chilling shivers along his spine. 'Hold a grudge against Potter because of Father, that's a splendid idea. And tomorrow, I'll announce my engagement to Granger!' He shook his head angrily, thinking of the mockery of the situation. To hold a grudge against anyone on his father's behalf was a preposterous idea. 'No point in protecting the honor of Lucius Malfoy, it's ruined already because I'm his heir. No point in holding resentment when the bastard escaped anyway.' The incessant bitterness was growing larger, blinding Draco with visions of that night.

---Flashback---

"You're a disgrace! Nothing will become of you!" Lucius said as he grabbed Draco by the neck, slamming the boy into a stone wall. Concealing a gasp, Draco closed his eyes, containing the pain that was now throbbing through his body. He didn't even know why Lucius was raving madly against him, it didn't make any sense.

"Father, I don't understand!" Draco shouted, only to get slammed against the wall again. This time, his head cracked up against it, making a sharp pain ricochet continually. Opening his eyes, his vision stayed blurred as he watched his father pull out. . ."

---End of Flashback---

"NO!" Draco screamed loudly, only to realize he actually screamed. Quickly getting up from his position, he decided that he needed to creep back to the common room before someone, if anyone, came to find the screamer. Walking with his body pressed against the wall, Draco made subtle movements, just in case someone was coming his way. Moving slowly for about five minutes, he finally came upon the Slytherin Common Room again. Murmuring the password, he entered to see Blaise sitting on one of the leather couches. Draco quickly moved to the dormitory entrance.

"Draco, stop!" Blaise hissed precariously. Draco turned around, looking quite stunned. That was definitely the only time he'd ever heard Blaise's voice sound like that. "You're going to tell me everything." He whispered once reaching Draco. Draco looked into Blaise's eyes, seeing only a painful sincerity reverberating through their dark blue cores.

"I don't want your damn concern. Stop bothering me." He sneered, nearly sounding like his usual self. Nearly.

"Tell me or Snape is going to find out." Blaise replied threateningly. Draco narrowed his eyes, evilly glaring at Blaise.

"Listen to me, Blaise. Stop meddling in things that you shouldn't be meddling with. Be a Slytherin and stop wondering and concerning yourself in areas that shouldn't matter."

"Draco, we've be friends for a long time, regardless if people knew that or not. I should be concerned especially since this is very dangerous. Do you have any idea what could happen to you?" Draco rolled eyes, knowing the sanctimonious lecture officially began.

But Draco wasn't going to stand around and have Blaise treat him like an immature little child. "Blaise, I'm well aware of what could possibly happen." It looked like Blaise was expecting more from his answer. Draco smirked knowing that Blaise was looking for gaining knowledge, but Draco would never succumb to that weakness.

"That's all you've got to say?" Blaise asked incredulously, eyes widened with shock. Draco nodded, before turning around without a second thought. Trudging up the stairs to the dormitory, Draco knew that the dark haired Slytherin wasn't following him. He also knew that Blaise wouldn't say anything to Snape about what was going on.

Blaise wasn't cunning enough to tattle on Draco, especially since the blonde Slytherin was possibly his only friend.

Draco sighed once he reached his bed, plopping down upon its cushiony surface. He felt lethargic, yearning for sleep.

Drawing curtains around his bed, Draco allowed himself to relax. That was something he rarely did. Tension was a lifestyle, especially for the young Malfoy who always needed to withhold his perfection, never faltering.

Unbuttoning his sleeves, he pulled them down, staring at the inflamed cuts of yesterday. He sighed, knowing that his cutting was the only thing he could control anymore. Being Draco Malfoy, he loved control. The sense of having a full controlling power over anything put him under a blissful state of ecstasy. With that known, there was just one thing certain.

Draco wasn't going to let anyone take the last thing he could control away.


The Gryffindor Common Room was quiet again. The only noise that could be heard was the faint crackling of the roasting firewood. The shy light that was emitted from the dying fire illuminated objects, creating shadows that danced playfully with every flicker of the flames. One sole person remained in the common room, thinking deeply about the night's events.

Contentment flared brilliantly, leaving her heart feeling light. The world seemed to be regaining more control every day. She was glad about this, especially since her best friend didn't deserve to suffer.

Holding Crookshanks in her arms, Hermione petted his ginger-colored fur. The week had been great; there wasn't any denial in that statement. All the pieces of the puzzle were flowing together and Hermione hoped that soon, the final picture would be complete.

Of course, the puzzle should be finished when Harry was all better mentally, but there was one other thing that would make everything perfect. Of course, that singular thing was selfish and very uncaring, but her desires needed to be filled. Hermione sighed erratically.

She realized that she was hopelessly in love with Harry.

Whatever she thought wouldn't help her escape those thoughts and feelings that flooded her system anytime Harry came into view. There were certain times when he was looking at her in which Hermione felt like she couldn't breathe.

However, for some unknown reason, Hermione experienced guilt for liking Harry. He seemed to be an unattainable goal that could never be accomplished, never to be reached. Harry Potter was the Golden Boy of the wizarding world, wanted by several girls because of who he was.

But Hermione wasn't like them; she liked Harry for who he was. For the kindhearted person he truly was.

'But I'll never have him.' She thought sadly, unable to sway her thoughts.

"What are you still up for?" A voice whispered, scaring Hermione nearly too death. She turned, body shaking lightly, to see Harry standing behind her.

"I wasn't tired, so I decided to bask in the silence of the common room."

Harry chuckled at her response before sitting down in the chair beside hers. "That sounded like something from a storybook."

Hermione smiled, disregarding the comment completely. "So, why aren't you sleeping yet?"

"I couldn't fall asleep. My attention kept drifting to the window. The moon, even though it's a mere sliver tonight, looked breathtaking." Harry murmured softly. "And there were other things buzzing around." He continued on, sounding like he was talking more to himself than to Hermione.

"Harry, earlier when we were talking with Remus, I noticed something." Harry raised an eyebrow, confused by where she was going. "When he mentioned Voldemort, you flinched, why?"

"No reason." Hermione knew he wasn't being truthful, but she wasn't going to press the matter. There wasn't any point in destroying their friendship over something that probably wasn't too serious. "Hermione, have you ever thought about what the world would be like if I died and Voldemort prevailed? Has it ever crossed your mind that I might not win the battle?" Hermione didn't know how to respond, feeling belittled by Harry's questions. "After all, Dumbledore and everyone else seem to believe that I will triumph. I doubt that they think of the alternative side of things. It doesn't appear like they even realize that I'm only sixteen. I must conquer over all evil because it's my destiny." He paused. "What if I can't destroy Voldemort, what if he's too strong?" After about fifteen minutes of silence, Hermione felt guilty. She knew she couldn't answer those questions.

"Hermione, I don't expect you to answer those questions. The only people that'll answer them are me and Voldemort." His voice stayed strong, but his eyes suggested otherwise. Harry was hiding something, but Hermione couldn't tell what. It seemed as though Voldemort had something to do with it.

"What made you think of that?" Hermione asked, turning her full attention Harry's way.

He turned his head, gazing into the extinguishing fire. "Everything we talked about earlier just made me start thinking. It's just that with all of the confidence bestowed within me, I'm not allowed to fail. And I don't just mean verse Voldemort, I mean with everything. I'm James Potter's son, so I need to excel in and love Quidditch. I'm Lily Potter's son, so I need to get decent marks in school. There's just way too much pressure to have everything perfect, that it makes me go insane. Sometimes, I just wish that everyone would allow me to be Harry, not Harry 'The-Boy-Who-Lived' Potter.

"For some reason, I feel like it's harder to live up to expectations of dead parents. After all, I've no idea what they would want me to. All I have is what others tell me, which makes me feel like I need to mirror my image. And if I don't, I would feel like I'm letting down my parents and destroying their legacy. I just don't know what to think anymore."

"Harry, your parents would want you to be yourself. Everything that you do should be because you want to, not because they did it." Hermione stopped, thinking of something else. "You don't need to prove yourself to anyone. No one should be able to tell you what you should be. Be yourself and if people don't like it, who cares. It's your life and you're supposed to choose your pathways, not everyone else."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad one person realizes that. Thanks Hermione." Hermione returned the smile, glad that Harry liked her disposition on everything he had told her. "Honestly, life would be one hundred times better if everyone understood me like you do." His eyes seemed to be glimmering brighter, giving him a greater liveliness. "Well, I'm really tired now. I'm going up to bed." Hermione nodded to him. "G'night!" Harry said before getting up.

"Good night, Harry." Hermione whispered, watching his retreating back go up the stairs to the dormitory. Sinking down into her chair, she smiled, letting a grander feeling of contentment wash over her body.

Everything would be alright in the end after all.


It was strange; especially since only moments ago life was wonderful. Everything seemed brighter, more forgiving.

But those were side effects of depression.

Emotions quickly changed, making things that once brought joy, tedious and bothersome. He didn't want to feel this way anymore. He didn't want the sudden ups and downs. He wanted to be stronger than he was, able to fight the urges to harm himself.

Staring at the blade, he looked at himself in the eyes, seeing the fear that was circulating through them. 'What's wrong with me? I was just fine a few moments ago and now. . .' Taking a deep breath, Harry pressed the shiny metal object against his flesh, feeling the coolness of his dagger.

'Oh the memories. . .' Harry sardonically thought, as the new cut stung with the oncoming of oxygen. The deep edges of the cut quickly became covered with blood as the sticky metallic liquid rose to the surface. A sudden rage formed, causing Harry to throw his dagger against his bed. He cursed himself for being incredibly stupid again.

'Why in the hell did I do that? I was perfectly fine and nothing was bothering me. Everything was absolutely peachy and I go screw up again. There was no reason to cut, so why did I?' Those thoughts swirled, leaving many questions open.

Lying down, he ignored the uncomfortable prickling in his scar. 'One inconvenience after another. There has to be more to this. There has to be answer to my problems.' He paused, looking down at his bleeding arm. The blood was slowing running down his arm, staining the sheets underneath him. Feeling aggravated, Harry plopped his head down upon his pillow. He needed an answer, something that would solve everything that was happening.

'But what?'


The morning sunshine was shining brilliantly through the dormitory. A pair of eyes opened to see foreign surroundings. The eyes shifted around madly, trying to figure out where she possibly could be. Anxiety rose in her chest, making her feel nauseous and uncomfortable. Slowly slipping from the bed, she walked out of the dorm, trying to understand everything. Walking down stairs, she found herself in a gigantic room. Several other people were milling in and out of the room.

"There you are." A voice said behind her. She turned around to see a girl with curly brown hair. The girl looked friendly, but she hadn't the slightest clue of who she was. Her eyes widened, knowing she was unsafe. The brunette stared at her oddly, sending curious glanced her way. "Is there something wrong?"

The redhead nodded, biting her trembling lip. "Who are you? Who am I? And where am I?"


Silence spread throughout the infirmary. Faces were streaked with tears and set in painful realizations. It felt unreal on several levels that words couldn't describe anything. An empty and angry void filled the hearts of those standing in the hospital wing, looking down at the young woman lying on the bed. Her fiery red hair lay skewed upon the pillow.

"It was advanced dark magic, only the strongest of wizards could have pulled something like this off." Dumbledore said, breaking the ear-splitting silence. "The spell has some similarities to the Imperious Curse, but not completely. When placed on someone the nature of that person is replaced with the personality of the person that placed the curse. The removal of the curse can take place at anytime without being near the person that the curse was upon. With removal, it causes all memories to slip away. If found in time, memories can be restored." He paused, not wanting to continue on, bringing Ginny's family and friends more agony. "In Ginny's case, recovery of her memories is very unlikely. Severus will still brew the potion and I'll still cast the countercurse, but there is little hope."

With that Mrs. Weasley let out a heart wrenching wail, burying her head in her husband's chest. Hermione and Harry stood next to Ron, who looked blank without emotion.

"Professor, can the curse be traced to caster?" Hermione asked purely from curiosity. Dumbledore turned to face Hermione.

"Unfortunately, that's an impossible task. Tracking this certain spell isn't likely because of its origin. The spell itself is mastered with a special guard that prevents the caster from being discovered." Dumbledore looked over at Mr. Weasley, who was still comforting his wife. He couldn't imagine what this was doing to them.

"Professor, would Ginny have known who attacked her?" Hermione sent Harry a strange glance, wondering where a question like that came from.

"No Harry, she wouldn't have. Another interesting twist of the curse comes at this point. The person who casts the curse must be thinking of the person they despise the most for it to work. Then when the curse is removed, the person under the spell then believes that the person most despised by the caster placed them under the spell. If Ginny would have come forward, she would have most likely mentioned that person, instead of the true caster."

Mr. Weasley seemed to have been paying close attention to the conversation. "Is the true caster ever mentioned instead of a falsified one?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment, unable to think of an answer.

"Of course that is possible." A sneering voice came from behind them. Severus Snape stood behind them all, watching the despair slowly spilling over the adults and students. "It's possible if the caster despises themselves the most. Headmaster, I need to speak to you about the potion immediately. I'll be in my office." Snape said before walking out of the infirmary.

"I need to see Severus, so if there aren't anymore questions, I shall be off." No one spoke up, so Dumbledore strolled out of the infirmary, leaving the five behind.

Hermione glanced over at Harry, trying to catch his attention. She really figured that they should leave the Weasleys alone. When he finally caught her glance, he nodded. They walked out without saying a word. Hermione looked over her shoulder before completely leaving the hospital wing. Ron was still standing by himself, looking down at the ground. She could only begin to wonder what was going through Ron's mind.

The two Gryffindors walked in silence back to the common room, unable to speak of what happened. Words simply couldn't describe how this was going affect everyone that cared about Ginny, especially if her memory was never recovered. Hermione didn't want to think about the most likely scenario because of how difficult everything will be for the Weasleys. All the years of loving and caring for someone wouldn't exist. Ginny wouldn't remember growing up, being a witch, or even who she and her family were.

Everything was strange, especially since Ginny hadn't really acted any differently over the summer. It's like she hid everything that she was actually feeling.

Once finally at the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry said the password and the two entered. The common room was completely deserted, which was a great thing. Hermione wasn't in the mood to converse with anyone. She plopped down on the couch, feeling really confused about everything, too confused to question anything else.

"I wonder why she never mentioned anything about losing her memory." Harry said, after pacing the length of the common room. "It doesn't make any sense. According to everything we know about the curse, she felt herself losing her memory the last few days." Hermione knew Harry wanted to talk about this situation, but she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"Harry, we will most likely never know what happened or why she didn't tell anyone. Why even bother questioning something that will never be answered?" Hermione was hurting more than she was letting on. Ginny was really her only girl friend. Without Ginny, there would only be Ron and Harry.

Harry looked at Hermione incredulously. "Is this coming from Hermione, the girl that's been telling me for the longest timeto never give up?"

"Harry, there's a slim chance that she'll ever recover. Were you even listening to Dumbledore or were you too engrossed in your own problems?" Harry glared at her angrily.

"That's right, Hermione. I was engrossed in my own problems. I was planning out my next self-mutilation session. Would you like to join me?" He said sarcastically, boring holes into her brown eyes.

Hermione frowned, realizing what she said and what Harry replied with. Tears started to slide down her cheeks as she dropped her head into her hands. Everything was spinning out of control at that moment. Within a few seconds, she felt a pair of arms wrap around her. She removed her hands to see Harry's face extremely close to hers.

"Harry, I'm so sorry." She whispered, feeling horrible about her previous comments. She looked into his eyes, realizing she had never seen them this close up before. They seemed to be sparkling with more life than ever before. They were so vivid, so perfect.

"Forget about it." He replied nonchalantly, staring back. Hermione felt herself leaning in closer, unable to control herself. She glanced down at his prefect pink lips, wanting to devour them. She hadn't realized that Harry was also leaning in.

And with that, their lips touched softly. A certain spark was felt by Hermione, who had never felt anything when kissing other guys before. His lips felt so incredibly smooth. As they pulled away, they stared into each other's eyes.

'What just happened?' Hermione asked herself, holding the eye contact with Harry. Without notice, Harry leaned back, capturing Hermione's lips again.

'It's everything I've ever wanted. So why do I feel so guilty now?'


Blinding pain formed quickly as the silver-grey eyes shot open. A pounding headache was the last thing he desired that morning. The night before was merely a blur, only coming in bits and pieces. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes slowly, feeling the rhythm of his pounding head.

He needed to figure out what was going to happen now that Blaise knew about his secret. Draco knew that he needed to prevent his fellow Slytherin from finding out the reasons. Somehow, he needed to convince Blaise that he didn't have a problem. And also convince him that he wasn't cutting himself any longer.

It would be tough, but the blonde was confident in his lying skills. Concealment charms would also prove beneficial to Draco, so he knew he needed to brush up on those.

Reopening his eyes, he forced himself to endure the throbbing pain that was now shooting down his neck. Opening his curtains, he looked out seeing that all the occupants of the sixth year Slytherin dormitory were already gone. He shrugged his shoulders, moving over to his trunk. He pulled out a cloak he had gotten last Christmas and grabbed his school bag. Walking to the Slytherin Common Room, very little noise was heard, which brought joy to the blonde Slytherin. He could only hope that Blaise wasn't in the common room.

"Oh Drakie!" He heard a shrill voice scream as he entered the common room. He sighed exaggeratedly. After hearing that, he would take Blaise over Pansy Parkinson any day. He thought his message on the train was loud and clear.

Apparently not.

"What do you want, Parkinson?" He growled, feeling violent pains in his head with every glance at her.

"You've been ignoring me all week and I figured that something was wrong with you. Are you okay?" She smiled, flipping her hair from her eyes.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Parkinson, I've been avoiding you because I hate you. You're the most annoying female I've ever met. And if you were the final woman on Earth, I'd become a homosexual." He turned and walked toward the portrait hole.

She strolled by right behind him and whispered. "I received an owl from your father. He told me to keep you in line or more punishments will be doled out. So treat me kinder or Lucius will know about everything." Draco stopped, clenching his fists. He mentally cursed the man he called Father. He turned around, glaring at Pansy who was evilly smirking.

"You can tell my 'Father' he can screw himself. He can punish me all he wants, but he'll never destroy me." Draco turned back around and walked out of the common room. He was happy to see Pansy wasn't following him. He went to his secret place in the dungeons to think. He knew he lied. His father had already destroyed him, but he couldn't let him have the satisfaction. Lucius Malfoy would never know that his punishments broke down Draco's emotions slowly.

Sitting down against the wall, he knew he was in trouble. Pansy wouldn't have any problem relaying those messages to his father. Even though he said he wouldn't mind stronger punishment, Draco knew that was the last thing he needed. But his life had been filled with harsh lessons, so Draco was used to being injured. Getting up from his spot, he began to walk back to the common room. Once he reached the portrait, he decided that he didn't want to go back there. He continued walking through the dungeons, hoping to see something would catch his eye.

Being unsuccessful, he walked toward the potions lab. Draco often liked spending weekend afternoons brewing potions for extra points or just for keeps. Snape let him do anything he desired, which was a great plus in being his favorite student.

Nearing the potions classroom, Draco heard Snape talking to someone. He stopped in front of the jarred door.

"Albus, you and I both know that Miss Weasley's memory will never be restored. Brewing this potion and casting the spell is only giving them false hopes."

"Severus, I know that everything seems hopeless, but this is the last hope that the Weasleys will ever have." Draco was interested in the conversation, especially the part where they were talking about that Weasley girl's memory being gone.

Snape sighed loudly, "Have you looked at this potion? It's highly complicated with several items that are nearly impossible to obtain. Even if Miss Weasley would have come forward, I don't think that her memory could have been spared." Draco heard a book slam shut.

"Temper, temper, Severus. You're our Potions Master; you're supposed to be able to brew any potion that's needed."

"I'm able to brew this potion, as well as others, but I see no point in giving them hope with this unpromising case." Draco peeked inside the classroom, hoping that he wouldn't be seen. Severus walked toward the potion supply cabinet. He opened the doors, looking around at all of its contents. It looked like Severus knew he had all of the ingredients.

"Just brew the potion and give them once last chance at having their daughter and sister back." Dumbledore said, before walking toward the door. Draco saw this and quickly moved away from the classroom door. He hid in a shadowy corner, hoping that the Headmaster wouldn't catch him nosing into other's business. Luckily, Dumbledore walked right by Draco, not even aware of his presence.

'So the Weasley girl lost her memory. I wonder how?' He thought, walking toward the library. His curiosity was definitely getting the better of him, but there wasn't any way he could find out.

Sighing, he entered the library, seeing Potter sitting at a lone table. A wry smirk donned his face, seeing the boy that he had more in common with than any other person. He and Potter were so much alike it hurt, but he would never admit that aloud. No, he needed to torture Potter about his weaknesses so they didn't seem as strong as his own. Walking toward Potter, he noticed he was reading a book on advance charms and curses.

"Planning on killing me before I can exploit your secret?" Draco asked sarcastically, throwing on the Malfoy façade for the hell of it. Potter looked up, his eyes ablaze with emotions that Draco didn't even recognize.

"Don't you have anything better to do than annoying me?" His voice sounded sharply sincere, which was odd. Potter was never sincere toward Draco, especially since they hated each other. "Why don't you go play footsies with Parkinson? Or vow your servitude to Voldemort?"

"But Potter annoying you is exciting, since I hate you. And especially since I know your weakness. So tell me Potter, how much does it take to push you to cutting yourself?" Before Draco knew it, he was on his back with Potter stepping on his chest with one foot. He couldn't breathe well and his vision was slightly blurred, but Draco knew what Potter was extremely irritated.

"You know nothing about it, Malfoy, so shut the hell up! I told you on the train, don't mess with me. Maybe you're too arrogant to understand that, but I meant every word. Pull something like this again and you'll suffer greatly." He removed his foot, grabbed his belongings, and walked out of the library.

Draco slowly pulled himself up, highly irate about how Potter had bested him again. But the anger quickly faded because Draco knew he deserved no better.

However, he didn't understand why he continued on being something he wasn't. The Slytherin knew everything was different with him, but he couldn't totally accept that fact. Some section of his being wanted to believe that everything was fine and dandy. Draco wanted to believe that his father was still exalted in his eyes.

His wishes were futile, knowing nothing could come from just hopeless thinking. Getting completely off of the floor, Draco started walking toward the library exit. Walking down the hallways, he sighed, noticing that they were pretty much empty. He let his guards down slightly, not being as alert as he should have been.

Without notice, Draco was grabbed from behind and pulled into a shadowy corner. He couldn't make out who his attacker was because of the hooded cloak the person was wearing. He was slammed against the wall.

"Let me go!" Draco shouted, only to be placed underneath a silencing charm. The person then placed a pinning curse upon Draco. The hooded figure started kneeing Draco in the stomach, making Draco feel completely nauseous. The abuse didn't stop there. Several punches were placed to Draco's face, making Draco squirm, wishing to break free. The young Malfoy wanted to collapse, just fall to the floor and pass out. But that didn't really seem probable at the moment.

Suddenly Draco saw a shiny object come from underneath the robes. He saw himself looking at a dagger that was shining tremendously in the darkened light. The person held the dagger to Draco's throat, making Draco squirm wildly again. His heart, lodged in his throat, was beating madly. He could barely breathe he was so scared that someone was going to kill him.

A hissing voice then stated, "You should really learn manners, Draco." Removing the dagger from his throat, he placed it a Draco right temple and drug it down the length of his face. The cold air stung the cut, making Draco think of his own cutting. Kneeing Draco a few more times, the mysterious person laughed maliciously, who seemed to be enjoying Draco's facial expressions and agony.

Draco could feel himself getting dizzier and faint. With one final blow to the head, Draco slipped into a dark oblivion, filled with nothing but the constant reminders of tragedy.


It was nearing curfew and Draco still hadn't returned to the Slytherin Common Room. Blaise was feeling apprehensive; Draco hadn't been at any of the meals that day. He couldn't understand where Draco could be, especially since he wasn't one to study in the library for hours or even converse with other the houses' members. There weren't many places that the young Malfoy could actually be. Getting up from his comfy chair, he grabbed his cloak and walked out of the portrait. He was very worried, especially since he knew about Draco's habits.

Deciding that he should walk to the library, he did so. He looked around the nearly deserted hallways very thoroughly, knowing that Draco could actually be standing or hiding anywhere he liked. After all, Draco contained no fear and didn't care if he got in trouble with teachers. That carelessness had caused many problems in his father's eyes, but Draco always managed to escape 'discipline teaching lessons' without too many injuries. The walk to the library was a great distance from the dungeons, so Blaise had a lot of ground to cover. Nearing close to the library, Blaise heard a whimper. He couldn't imagine who would be making such a noise. Listening intently, he moved closer to the source of noise. He walked to the dark corner and was sickened by the sight he saw next.

Draco was lying on the floor, battered and bleeding. He gasped, dropping to his knees, exploring Draco's injuries closer. Pulling out his wand, he chanted 'Lumos' to add more light to the immediate area. The blonde Slytherin groaned painfully with the addition of light.

"Draco, can you hear me?" Blaise asked, voice laden in worry. He looked at Draco's face, noticing both his eyes were blackened and bruised. "I'm going to get you some help." Blaise got up, but Draco grabbed his pant leg.

"No," he whispered anxiously, wincing slightly when he removed his arm from Blaise's pant leg. It almost sounded like Draco was scared of something, but Blaise didn't know what. "I'm fine." He murmured, less nervous than previously. Blaise nearly scoffed at Draco's ill-attempt at claiming to being fine. He looked down at Draco, seeing his clothing was marred, very out of place. His right cheek lay in a puddle of drying blood.

Blaise went back down, "We both know you're not fine. I doubt you can even open your eyes." The dark haired Slytherin replied calmly, lacking the sarcasm Draco would have used toward him.

"I'm fine, damnit, just leave me alone." Draco said, not moving at all. Blaise wasn't sure he could move or just hadn't provoked himself to do so.

One thing he knew was Draco hated charity or anyone showing concern toward him, so helping him would be a pain. "Draco, you can't continue lying in the hallway. You're going to get caught and given detention. Plus, if someone finds you like this, imagine the leverage Potter, the Weasel, and the Mudblood will have against you." Blaise was positive that having the Golden Trip find out about his current condition was enough to make Draco want help.

"Blaise, why in the hell should I care about what those Gryffindorks think? Why should it matter to them? Why should it matter to me? Nothing to that extreme is important, especially when other things are going on in life." Blaise stared at Draco oddly, never hearing his fellow Slytherin talk like that before. 'Maybe he got slugged in the head too hard.' Blaise tried to convince himself of that, but it seemed like even he knew something was drastically wrong with Draco. Draco opened his eyes slowly, hissing in pain.

"So, who tried to kill you?" His voice was lightened, but he slowly lost his demeanor when his blonde friend's face flashed with fear momentarily. The Slytherin decided he wasn't going to pursue that area quite yet. "So how do you plan on getting back to the common room?"

"I don't know and don't care." There was a quiver contained within his voice. Blaise knew Draco cared, but he'd never admit it.

"I hate doing this, but you left me no choice. Either I help you get back to the common room or I'll fetch Snape or Dumbledore. And then you'll wind up in the infirmary." Blaise's voice was rough, showing Draco he wasn't messing around. The two remained silent, while Draco contemplated the choices that were delivered.

"Fine." The dark-haired Slytherin knew Draco meant that he could help him. He helped Draco sit up, receiving dangerous looks from Draco, who looked to be biting his lip to conceal gasps and whimpers of pain. Blaise finally got a closer look at the gash on Draco's face. It looked like someone literally took a dagger or knife to Draco's face.

"Think you can stand?" Blaise questioned softly, only to receive a sneer from Draco.

(Draco's POV)

"I'm not incapable of walking, Blaise. Stopping being so damn concerned with everything about me." He muttered, using the wall to stand. He winced once reaching his feet, having his abdominal area feel like it was on fire. Starting to walk off, Draco blinked rapidly walking into the brighter light. His headache started to progress quickly from the exposure to the light. He could barely move without feeling stabbing pains shoot throughout his entire body.

'I'm not looking forward to seeing my injuries once I reach the dormitory. I'm not looking forward to the explanations that Blaise is going to be expecting. Hell, I'm not looking forward to facing anyone.' Draco closed his aching eyes, not caring if he ran into anything. He shuddered, having memories flood his vision. He knew he'd never escape everything; it would always haunt him relentlessly.

Reopening his swollen eyes, he noticed that Blaise was now walking beside him, holding the same sluggish pace. Draco could really tell his friend cared about what happened to him

That was hard for Draco to understand. He couldn't understand why anyone would show so much concern toward him, especially since he was such a prick, and so unworthy. But would he ever voice those thoughts? Hell no, he couldn't let himself be considered weakened by anything. They continued walking slowly to the Slytherin Common Room, not seeing anyone along the way. Once reaching the dungeons, Draco trembled mentally.

He was positive it was a Slytherin that had assaulted him earlier. The Slytherins were the only ones stupid enough to mess with Draco. Not that he could retaliate against them with his father calling the shots. The blonde would probably be torn to shreds or killed.

Reaching the common room, Blaise spoke the password. Draco entered first, immediately walking off to the dormitories. He received curious glances, stifled laughter, or sarcastic smirks. Sending them deadly glares, he continued onto the sixth years' dormitory, hoping that none of his roommates were there or were going to follow him.

Draco wanted to break, he wanted to collapse and forget everything that was happening. But he couldn't and he wouldn't. His stoical outlook prevented him from even wanting someone to care about him. It seemed like even Draco's mother, Narcissa, didn't really ever care for her son. Which, according to Blaise, was probably he tried to act tough and snide.

Making it up to the dormitory, Draco walked slowly over to his bed. He lay down, feeling the pain increase with the change of position. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes tightly, hoping the dull aching would soon surpass.

"Do you need anything?" Draco immediately recognized Blaise's voice. He should have known that his friend would follow him, it was highly obvious.

"I need for you to leave me alone." He mumbled. He honestly didn't understand why Blaise always bothered him, especially with how rude he was to him constantly.

Blaise scoffed, "If you think I'm leaving, you're outta you mind. Draco, you were just brutally attacked and can barely move. Let me help you."

"No." He said quietly, remaining completely still.

What happened next was something that Draco never expected. "WHY IN THE HELL ARE YOU SUCH A DAMN SUFFERABLE GIT? I'M TRYING TO HELP YOU AND YOU WON'T ACCEPT IT. CAN'T YOU SWALLOW YOUR DAMN PRIDE AND LET ME HELP YOU?" Draco's eyes shot open. He stared at Blaise with bemusement; he was extremely mild-mannered and never lost his temper. NEVER! Blaise's face was completely red from anger.

"Blaise, you'll never understand." Draco mumbled slowly, never talking his eyes off of Blaise.

"The reason that I don't understand anything is because you won't tell me anything. Draco, I don't understand why you always have to be so secretive and not let anyone care about you." His voice had leveled off, giving him his composure back.

Draco sighed and then winced because of the forced air. "I've gotten very far in my life without people helping me or caring about me. Why start something that involves showing feelings now? You're my friend and I understand you are genuinely concerned about my general welfare, but stop it! Don't worry about something that can't be controlled, it'll just drive you insane."

"The only one that's going insane is you. I don't care how much you won't admit it, but I know that you want help from someone. Deep down, I know that you want someone to hold you and tell you everything will be fine in the end. Just because your childhood was horrible doesn't mean that you can't overcome the hardships of it."

Taking a quivering breath, Draco let everything sink in. He wasn't too sure about actually wanting someone to care about him, but everything else made sense. "Blaise, please leave me alone. I'm begging you. My life is hard and too complicated without having someone constantly wanting to help me. If I need your help, I know where you are." It was an empty response because both boys knew that Draco would never ask for help. Blaise got up from his bed and walked away. Barely feeling conscious, Draco sat up.

The vicious pain once again shot throughout his body, but Draco needed to check out his injuries before even thinking about sleeping. Walking over to his trunk, he pulled out a pair of fresh black boxers and shirt. Slowly moving over to the bathroom, he felt himself tearing up. He commanded himself not to cry; crying was always for the weak. Even though, Draco found himself crying often, he didn't like to if he could control the urges. Walking into the bathroom, he performed a complicated locking spell upon the door. He didn't care if the fellow Slytherins in his year couldn't get in the bathroom. Walking in front of the mirror, he heard it shriek. He ignored everything the mirror was mumbling about him.

Draco looked clearly at his face. It looked like he had been hit with a bludger in the face. Both eyes were nearly swollen shut with deep purple coloring. His cheeks were also several swollen which was attributed to the pain he received from opening and closing his eyes. He looked at the long gash that was on his face. It still was bleeding lightly and looked rather disgusting with the edges cracking and inflamed.

Removing his shirt, Draco braced himself for the hideousness that was probably lying underneath the creased clothing. What he saw was nothing that he wasn't used to, but he hated looking each and every time. The chest was a dark shade of purple with blue swirled in odd places. Several ribs looked to be sticking out in odd angles. In all honesty, he expected everything that was wrong. Taking out his wand, he cast some healing spells upon himself, hoping that the swelling and bruising would reduce. Once satisfied with his overall appearance, Draco walked over to a shower stall, stripping the remainder of his clothing. He started the shower, before stepping in and relaxing underneath the water. It was a long day, a very long day. And it didn't seem like anything was going to get better for a long time.

A/N: Again, I'm sure for not updating for the longest time. Here are some answers to your questions and comments. Please review and tell me what you thought about this chapter! I'm really hoping to get some feedback on this one!!!!

tiki11- No you didn't miss anything. Blaise was mentioned in the first book only once. They only thing that we knew was that a Blaise Zabini was sorted into Slytherin. For many years now, all us Potter fanatics didn't know if it was female or male, so we used the character to our discretion. But JK announced that Blaise is a boy about a month or so ago. I don't think that I'm going to have Draco fighting for Hermione just isn't going to work -frowns- because he's already out of character.

Evil Pure Inicint Love- giggles I'm glad you thought it was sweet!!

Marisela- Thanks for your awesome comments, they make me all fuzzy and happy inside. My beta and I agreed that a Cutting!Draco would be a great idea (it was mainly her idea). And Blaise is the one that can be made into anything because the only thing we know about him is that he is male. But I wanted him to show concern someone has to care about Draco... (i guess). And the Ginny situation will only get worse.. (poor girl)

DJ- I understood everything, don't worry about it! Thanks for your complements!!!

Nataliaah- Are you sure that Draco is truly the one that is doing everything to Ginny???? (grins) You could be right or wrong, all depends (muahahahaha!!)

REALbluelightsaber- Yeah, Draco, Mr. Perfect has a harder life than everyone thinks. And I don't think that Harry is going to spill his feelings or thoughts yet.. there is still going to be cutting and dark stuff! I mean, here and there, he keeps telling Hermione things, but he's not going to do anything drastic yet.

doughgurl2008- Thanks!! LOL.. I think that I was the first line I wrote and built everything from there.. I needed it to be something like that.. just so everyone could get a taste of fluff before darker things happen!

TheGreatFox2000- Thanks for the complements. You are right, it's a sad story, but even the most depressing story needs a break here and there.... but even when H/Hr gets into a relationship, everyone must know it's not going to be cookies and cream. They both have habits that are going to bug each other.. and Harry's problems are going to effect everything GREATLY!

sweetfiregirl- Thanks!

coolone007-02- That is an interesting twist on the Ginny plot line.. and it might be true.. or not... But will Ginny's memory ever return.. NOW THAT IS A MYSTERY!! (muahaha!)..

Black Betty- Yeah, I was trying to figure out where to place the Ginny storyline and I thought this chapter was a great idea. Yeah, the super nice (prolly cute too... lol) Blaise weasled his way to finding out things.

yellowpages- I know, it was weird. Thanks, i think that hearing other people's POV beside Harry or Hermione broadens the storyline because Harry isn't the only one with problems. THANKS for the complements!!

LunaLovegood61- Thanks. Yeah, for know, Harry is happier!! Yeah, well Ginny is going to go through hell... so this is the least of her problems.

sadest one- thanks for your compliments!!

Duke-of-Argyle-Yup Draco cuts too... The H/Hr stuff got better here.. lol.. more is definitely to come..

A/N: Well, that is all I have for today… Review please and I shall be working on chapter 15!! Woot!