Seriously I am taking work up again on this story. Thank you all for the replies and the patience.

Chapter 4: Lobe den Tag nicht vor dem Abend.

Draco hadn't slept so well in a long time. It was breakfast again and he was feeling better then ever. He could hardly believe, that it was only twenty four hours ago, that he had gone through the same motions, only this time the apparent death wishes were missing. The difference was his mood: grim and suicidal the day before, cheerful and happy today.

From time to time Draco stole secret glances to the Gryffindor table. He couldn't wait to see her again. His heart beating inside his chest was filled with warm honey, spreading through his veins, triggering fiery responses inside his guts. It didn't necessarily qualify as a good feeling. On one hand he longed to see her again, on the other, he still wanted her as far away from him as possible. She was still a Gryffindor. This was definitively confusing him … but what the hell, Draco thought, go figure.

He was day dreaming like this for quite some time, when suddenly he felt a searing pain in his wrists.

"Ah!" he exclaimed loud enough for the people in his near vicinity to turn around, searching for the source of trouble. He rolled up his sleeves and held his arms out in front of him so that the palms were facing the magically changing ceiling above him. He always had had very visible veins and often, when bored, looked at them, tracing the thin, blue lines from his elbows up to his wrists. But now there was definitively something wrong. The blood vessels had doubled their breadth and were bulging out of his skin just a little bit. The rhythm had slowed down considerably. Draco would usually ignore all of these signs, if not for the agony that followed every one of the belated beats.

He took out his wand and passed it lightly over his forearm. The yellow light which had been pulsing at the tip of his wand, tracing his inflated blood vessels, he now turned on an empty piece of parchment.

"Analysa"

The yellow light formed a big spot on the white parchment and intensified for a second, blinding the owner of the wand temporarily. Draco blinked a few times trying to remove the imprints that had formed inside his eyelids. Then he took up the parchment to find two words scribbled down in a very neat handwriting:

"Not good"

…that was all.

Usually there would be the name of some disease or sickness, sometimes even that of a curse with the whole explanation, the symptoms and the possible cures written down. It was a real bad sign, if his analyzing spell couldn't figure out what was wrong with him. He probably will have to tell that absolutely incompetent nurse down in the hospital wing about this.

This didn't make him feel any better. On the contrary: it made him feel even worse. He would have liked to tell his mother about this abnormality. And he would have, if the situation had occurred last year. But now, with his father gone, his mother concentrated all of her attention on him. Her only living relative…

Thinking of his mother's poor condition, once one of the strongest and most beautiful witches of their society, made Draco want to throw up. His thoughts were automatically redirected to Potter. Never had he felt so much anger and hatred for that asshole then now. It was incredible how much pain and destruction one single person was able to spawn in his up till now perfect life.

Again the pain in his wrists set in, startling him out of his reverie. He looked around and noticed that everybody was getting up, ready to go to their respective classes. His eyes flickered briefly over to the Gryffindor table. She still hadn't come. Was she ill? Was she ok? Or was it plain embarrassment that was holding her away from breakfast?

"Hey Draco! Are you coming or what? We have double potions now."

Blaise Zabini was standing behind Draco's chair, looking over his shoulder to get a look at whatever was keeping his classmate rooted to his chair. Draco quickly hid the parchment with his diagnosis under the schoolbooks he had taken out earlier.

Blaise was definitively the rare person, with whom Draco could exchange a few words, without experiencing the sudden urge to hit him with something very hard. So that qualified him to be Draco's best friend. He was intelligent and understood the fine art of manipulating everybody in his vicinity. Plus he had lost his father on the same night Draco had lost his. This subconsciously brought them even closer. The same heavy burden was placed on his shoulders, literally overnight, of carrying a famous and powerful family name.

Blaise had a little brother, still too young to be at Hogwarts and Draco did envy him for that, being an only child. But then, not only was Blaise's father killed on that faithful night, but his mother had committed suicide somewhere in the following week.

The actual date was still a bit unclear. Their mother used to lock herself into her room for weeks and so nobody was disturbed when she didn't show up for a week after her husband's death. The servants had even made bets on how long she would stay locked in that time.

Eventually the smell became so bad, that Blaise broke into his mother's room, curious about what could reek so badly. He found her lying on her bed, as beautiful as ever. The only sign of death was the already dried blood stains on her pale blue sheets. Blaise had stepped closer and lifted the sheets from the supposedly sleeping form. He rolled the sheets down to her waist. Everything looked normal, except for the fact that the usual breathing motions were missing. Rolling the sheets even further down, Blaise exposed the rest of his mother's torso. The long gashes along her lower arms were the only sign of self inflicted violence. Blood that had been gushing out of the wounds had dried already, caking all over her own body.

Blaise had taken out his wand and had closed up the ugly gashes marking his mother's body. With another flick of his wand he cleaned up the mess. He rummaged around the cold body and finally found what he was looking for. A delicate knife, with a nearly paper-thin blade lay next to her right hand. The sheath was lying on the nightstand. The knife was an heirloom his grandfather brought from Japan as a present for his daughter. When it was sheathed, it looked just like a black, polished piece of bamboo. He picked it up, hid it in his breast pocket and only then did he alarm the staff. He told his little brother that their mother had fallen asleep forever. His brother understood and started crying.

The funeral was beautiful. Noticeable was the fact that the funeral party consisted only of women and adolescents. All the men, or what was left of them, had been laid to rest only a few days beforehand.

Draco knew so much, because Blaise had confided in him after the funeral. They had known each other all their lives. And even if they didn't tell each other everything, a deep trust was still holding them together.

Just as they were about to leave for class, an owl swooped down low, dropping a roll of parchment onto Draco's head. Thankfully Blaise caught the missive before it could land on the dirty floor. He opened it and quickly skimmed it. With an amused expression Blaise handed Draco the letter. The blond boy took it and shot his classmate a shriveling gaze. The letter was written in an elaborate handwriting, which reminded Draco of a cheap Hallwart card.

"Dear Mr. Malfoy,

you may well be aware, that leaving a class before the official end is classified as breaking of the school rules. Your Advanced DaDA teacher was not able to pass you this information for obvious reasons. The staff has decided to punish you and two of your classmates: Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger. Due to personal problems between you and Mr. Potter, we will not put you together in one detention. But you will be serving detention with Ms. Granger. Maybe you will be able to sort out your problems, when forced to work together. Your detention will take place in the DaDA classroom at 6.00 pm.

Best wishes,

Hogwarts staff."

Draco groaned "This just can't be happening. I'm never gonna be able to finish my homework."

"And not to forget, we have double Potions now, so that mans, we will get an essay to write 'till next lesson." Blaise obviously thought that this was extremely amusing. The only thing keeping him from laughing out loud, was Draco's expression. It was more than clear, that Draco was ready to kill anybody or anything. Blaise knew that Daco was the best duelist at Hogwarts and didn't want to take him on, now or ever.

"Come on. Let's go!" snapped Draco, readying himself to face this totally unpromising day.