Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world don't I own. squeals Ooh, that was fun! I'm now impersonating Yoda… and Yoda I own not either. laughs to herself stupidly Okay, yeah, I'll let you read the chapter now.

A/N: Please don't murder me for any grammatical errors in this chapter. I wanted to get the chapter out to you and didn't have time to get someone to read it over. So enjoy!

Chapter 6: The Meaning of Pain

Harry backed away and began walking away from the room holding prisoner his worst nightmare.

"Harry what…" Tonks began, but was cut off by Harry, who stormed off, trying to put as much distance between himself and Malfoy as he could.

"We're leaving. There's obviously been a mistake," he growled.

Tonks glared at him as she placed her hands on her hips. "Well, I'm afraid I'm going to have a bit of a harder time leaving him here then you seem to be having."

"Tonks, you just… I… no! We're leaving now!" He couldn't think. Visions of Hermione and Draco, kissing, flashed through his brain, visions of her leaving him. No, he couldn't risk it. He was doing the right thing… he was sure of it.

"Harry, think for a second," Tonks pleaded, walking away from the wall. "There's a man hanging from the ceiling in there… dying!" she added, for dramatic effect. "Are you, Harry Potter, the savior of the wizarding world, really going to let him die here?"

"So now I'm type cast, right? Now, because I've defeated Voldemort, I'm automatically the self-made hero?" Harry questioned.

"Well yes, actually," Tonks responded.

"No," Harry answered. "It's a… a trap or something. He… I mean, come on. We know for sure that Dark Magic surrounds this building, why can't it be a set up? I bet you anything Lucius set it up and you're playing right into his hand." But for all he said, Harry believed none of it.

"Harry, come on. You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm thinking fine," he snapped. Shoving his hand in his pocket, he pulled out his golden galleon and tapped it with his wand. Writing a single word in the air with the tip of his wand, he tapped the coin again.

Tonks glared at him while trying to mask her astonishment.

"Potter!" A voice drifted through the crack in the wall. Harry turned and looked toward the cursed building. "I'm really not into groveling so don't make me, but I am on rather a tight schedule."

"I highly doubt that," Harry retorted. "From the looks of it, it'll be a while before you'll be able to do anything."

"Harry!" Tonks tried again. "Listen to him, Merlin's beard what's gotten into you!"

"Yeah Potter. Going to leave a poor soul like me hanging from the ceiling?" Draco asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

"Harry, what's going on?" Harry turned around to see the Sabine sisters running toward him, their coins in their hands. "The coins burned saying retreat, what happened?"

"There's… been a mistake," Harry answered. Guilt had begun leaking into his conscience.

Tonks stared angrily at him, but said nothing. Instead, she folded her arms and refused to look at any of them, especially not the building behind her.

"Well, well, well," Draco said, amused and afraid that his final hope would soon be leaving him. "Potter turning to the dark side. I'd never have suspected it."

Harry ignored him. Opening his mouth to offer a better explanation to Lyra and Amanda, who were looking extremely confused, he heard Draco yell through the wall, once again.

"So what have Hermione and Ron been up to? I mean, obviously a gap has either already punctured your relationship with them or will soon because I doubt either of them would stoop this low."

Harry's blood was boiling. "You know, for a man who doesn't like to grovel, you're certainly very good at it," he retorted. Four figures were running toward him from either side of the building. "Let's go, guys. We have no business left here."

Tonks glanced helplessly once more toward the building, but followed a second later.

"Potter!" Draco felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He couldn't believe he, of all people, was about to do this. "I have a week."

Harry stopped.

"I… I made a bet. I, Lucius and I, we… we performed the Unbreakable Vow."

Harry refused to look at the building.

"I bet him I could escape in a month. I have less then a week left. If I don't get out in that time, I'm going to fall into a fairytale sleep. Fill in the blanks." Ice coiled around his words as they pummeled from his chapped lips.

Tonks looked at Harry, pleading silently with him.

"You should know better then to use that spell, Draco. It almost ruined you once before, it looks like this time you're luck's run out."

And he was gone. All eight of them disapperated in a flash, taking with them all hope Draco had managed to acquire.


Firewhisky burned hot and heavy as it smoldered down his throat. Harry looked up, his eyes slightly unfocused as they sought out the bartender.

"Another," he whispered. The man looked at him strangely, but nodded and busied himself with refilling the cup.

"Harry," Tonks scolded, bursting into the room. "This is madness. What are you DOING?"

"What doss it look like?" Harry asked, his words slurring as they tumbled out of his mouth. He raised his glass and inclined his head to her before dumping the shot down his throat once more. Gasping for air, he asked, "Wat one?"

"No, thank you, I'd prefer to hold my dignity." She sighed, her normally bubblegum pink hair now an eerily bright blond… Malfoy's blonde. "Why are you doing this, Harry?" she asked, taking the seat next to him and shoving the shot glass away from Harry's reach. "You're being ridiculous."

Harry sighed. Hermione's face invaded his mind, engulfing his thoughts. No longer did a warm smile accompany her welcoming face. For so long had he gazed and worried about her gaunt features, it now remained the only picture of her he seemed to possess in his mind. "I left him there," he articulated, miraculously, in perfect dialect.

"Yes, you did," Tonks, admitted, crossing her arms. "Not having second thoughts, now, are you?"

Harry glanced at her, his eyes slowly coming back into focus. "He… I had to."

"And why's that?" Tonks asked. "There's obviously more to this then sheer rebellion of your normal ways."

"He loves her. He still does… I can tell. And… and she still loves him," Harry tried, his thoughts spinning out of control in a jumbled mess.

"What?" Tonks asked, looking quizzically at Harry. "You mean, Draco? What are you talking about?"

Harry looked into Tonk's eyes. "Draco. And… and Hermione." He groaned, his head pounding against his skull. Reaching over Tonks for the glass, he signaled to the bartender once more.

Tonks looked at him incredulously. "So, let me get this straight. Draco and Hermione were… were a thing?" Harry nodded. "As in, together?" Harry glared at her, but nodded again. "As in, they liked being together and Hermione would rather have been with him then you… right?"

"Does this have a point? This lecture?" Harry croaked, downing the fresh liquid.

"No, just clarifying the impossible," Tonks responded. She paused, refusing to look at him. "So, if she loves him, why did she marry you?"

Harry put his face in his hands, groaning. "Because I asked her too."

"Harry," Tonks sighed, as if explaining something to a small child. "Marriage is a very important ordeal. You don't just say 'yes' because you feel like it. You have to mean it and have a reason for wanting to spend the rest of your life with that person."

"You don't get it. I'm just a default. She doesn't love me like she loved him. Look at her now! She refuses to live without him. I don't know who I'm trying to kid." He downed yet another shot of burning liquid. "I musht be mental," he muttered.

"Well, it would certainly seem that way," Tonks continued. "I… oh Harry, you always were abnormal." She sighed, turning away from him. "I can think of about three possibilities for why you're thinking this way; A) because you've had way to much to drink…" she stopped and looked at him. "Scratch that, that's a definite. You are definitely drunk." She continued. "B) You continue to harbor, after two years of marriage, insane amounts of jealousy which are usually discarded in primary school." Harry grunted at this, but allowed her to continue. "C) Your brain is malfunctioning and you are under the delusion that Hermione and Draco could be having an affair when 1. They hate each other and 2. Hermione's the biggest goodie-two shoes I've ever met." At this point, Harry opened his mouth to say something in response, but Tonks cut him off with a ringing, "And D)," he shut up; "You hate Draco and simply wish to kill him at whatever cost; even if it means making up huge lies to do so."

Harry simply stared at her in amazement, his eyes bloodshot from the firewhisky. "I'm going to say all of the above apply," Tonks concluded a moment later. Signaling to the bartender, she called, "pass me a shot of firewhisky," and downed the glass in a single gulp.

Harry, startled, watched her in amazement. Unfortunatley, this amazement did not last for longer then a second for a moment later, the door behind them banged open and in rushed Ronald Weasley; disheveled, exhausted, and scared beyond belief.

"Harry," he choked through his remaining breath. "It's… it's Hermione." Harry ceased all actions at once and swiveled around to look at him.

"I think… I think she's going crazy."


Draco refused to open his eyes. Ever since he had last heard Potter's voice, he had been keeping his eyes firmly shut, refusing to look out at the inevitable.

I am not imprisoned, he thought desperately. I have been rescued by the Golden Boy and his miserable cronies… I have NOT been left to die at the mercy of my father. The world has, under no circumstances, fallen off its normal orbit and caused the savior of our wizarding world to refuse to help someone. He paused a moment, straining to hear voices… noises… screams? Pleas for help? Something? I can't hear anything because I've been rescued and placed in a highly protected ward, safe and sound, in London. When I open my eyes, I will NOT be hanging from a ceiling; I will awaken to find presents surrounding me… well, Hermione anyway.

Silence echoed across the room at large.

Okay; one… he squinted his eyes shut as tight as they would go; two… he clenched his hands together, ignoring the fact that, despite his reluctance to believe he was not hanging from a ceiling, felt as though they had long been deprived of blood for this very reason; three… he opened his eyes.

"Damn you bloody Gryffindors!" Draco scowled under his breath, his face contorted in rage. "No matter how hard I try, I will NEVER understand you. One day you're the hero's of the earth, the next you have more Slytherin characteristics then me." Defeat beginning to make an appearance, Draco hung his head, clenching his eyes shut once more.

At least she's got friends, he thought wryly. Potter and the Weasel will take care of her. She's probably already forgotten me. Hell, she's probably already married and moving on.

But no matter how hard he tried to convince himself this was true, he couldn't bring himself to admit the latter. She… she couldn't just forget me, could she? Was I really that spontaneous? What am I saying, I'm supposed to be convincing myself I'm an unimportant aspect in her life! No one's going to miss me once I'm gone…

Damn! I'm turning into a bloody Hufflepuff!

0000

As the week passed, the clock in Draco's mind seemed to speed up, just as it does whenever something foreboding is about to happen. The threads of hope he had begun to acquire since the binding spell had snapped the minute Potter had stepped into the equation. Depression lapped into his life, consuming his being. The pain he felt in his once perfectly toned body meant nothing to him; nothing mattered anymore. There was simply no way he could escape from the building without outside help, and that help had fled upon first glance.

The simple fact of the matter remained that he had no one. No one cared about what happened to Draco Malfoy, the son of a Death Eater… not even the Death Eater in question.

Accepting this fate, his life seemed to stretch endlessly before him, all paths leading to the last day. For even though the binding of the curse wouldn't kill him, it would, as the words so carefully stated, place him in a sleep so sound, none but the one person truly able to peer into his "dead" soul would truly see him as he remained; alive.

And, as Draco reminded himself, what were his chances that that one person would ever find his corpse, care enough to truly look at it, and then kiss it to reawaken the soul within? Slim to none.

The fatal day finally arrived and with it, Lucius' presence in the room, one last time.

As the door closed with a thud behind him, Lucius' voice rang through the room. "I assume I need not explain why I'm here," he drawled. "Assuming you've figured out what day it is, you will know I am here to watch you as you draw you remaining breaths." He smiled; that cold, dreadful smile rarely seen accompanying his lips, but fitting his personality to the core.

And, second's later, Draco felt a sort of unease begin to spread throughout his body. The feeling started in his toes and stemmed from there… the feeling that his limbs were - there was no other way to put it – dying. Looking down at his hands, he watched as they turned an icy blue color, their flesh graying in defeat… echoing his heart within.

But, whatever illusions he had fallen into from this easy, painless way to "die" were quickly squelched by what happened next. Pain beyond belief shot through his body as he hung there, his hands tied to the ceiling, trembling in pain, his legs swinging back and forth below as wave after wave of electric shock coursed through his body. His head shook vehemently as sweat trickled down into his pale eyebrows. His heart felt like it had burst in two, shattering pieces of its torn remains everywhere; puncturing his lungs, his eyes, his liver… everything seemed to collapse from one picture forcing its way through his mind as he tried to remove his brain from the pain within…

Hermione.

Never had a plan backfire so contemptuously before him. Her face, sad and desolate, hung before him; her sad eyes alight with fire as she watched him suffering. Her voice echoed in his head as he hung there, trying to swallow a pain equivalent only to Potter's Sectumsempra curse back in his sixth year. You deserve this, you know. No one loves you and you're death will finally bring peace to my heart.

Rational thought refused to lodge in his brain as insane possibilities flashed before him. Biting off his head seemed a good idea, cutting off his arm seemed perfectly reasonable… anything to make this unbearable pain stop. His mouth, which had remained firmly clamped shut through the process, opened into a scream… the most disturbing scream he had ever bellowed in his entire life. The sound vibrated off the steel walls as he shook violently in the air, his body swinging back and forth. The blood that had trickled down his wrists before from the manacles now flowed down in a stream of color. Drops of blood had begun to squeeze themselves from the corners of his lips, staining his teeth a dark red as they flowed hungrily down his lips and over his chin. His eyes flew open in pain, their pupils fully dilated as a single drop of black blood trickled from the corner of his eyes, the white interior of his eyes stained red in the aftermath of the curse.

Sound began to fade as he hung there, desperate for an end to come… to relieve him of this anguish threatening to overtake him. Sight became obsolete. Touch… a being of yesteryear. The smells of his coppery blood as more drops spilled from his nose began to fade, and with it, the last voice he would hear… the voice he least wanted to hear as a laugh mingled dangerously with the words pulsing deep within.

"I told you, Draco… I told you you would pay."


Hermione screamed. Her voice burst through the curtains draped around her bed, burst through the walls enclosing her sanity, burst through his heart… his pain-ridden heart full of remorse, hatred, love, and sorrow.

Harry had, of course, finally managed to find his way back to Hermione's side.

The door to her room burst open with a bang as he hurtled through it, his feet pounding against the wood floor, his breath coming in short spurts.

"HERMIONE!" he screamed, his feet carrying him swiftly forward until his kneecaps collided hard with the frame of her bed. He swore as he doubled over slightly, both from the sight before him and the pain from his kneecaps. Backing away from the edge of the bed and leaning forward instead, his frame towered over her sleeping form. The blankets once lying peacefully across her fragile body had long since twisted themselves between her legs, sweat mingling with the sheets as they clung to her delicate form. Her hair had splayed out along the pillow, each strand soaked with sweat, her brow knitted in pain, pain at what she saw beneath those closed eyes.

"Hermione," he cried, softly this time, shaking her shoulders slightly. "It's a dream… it's just a dream. Come on now, love, wake up." She shook her head, her mind clearly buzzing as image after image erupted before her face.

"No," she muttered, "No you can't… don't!" Her voice rose in panic, cracking as she gave a strangled cry of fear.

"I need a healer in here!" Harry cried. "PLEASE!" Footsteps pounded along the corridors as Harry continued to breath nonsense in her ear, trying desperately to awaken her from her dream. "It's just a dream, it's okay. Come-on love, don't do this to me."

The door burst open once more as a Healer hurried into the room. "What happened?" she cried.

"I… I don't know," Harry responded, a look of pain etched across his face. "I was coming by to see her… I only just arrived. She… she was like this when I found her."

"Take it easy," the Healer said. "Just sit down, that's it," she soothed, Accioing a chair beneath his legs. "It's most likely just nightmares… that can happen after suffering from this type of PTSD… oh Merlin" she sighed. Reaching over her shoulder, a potion suddenly appeared in her hand and she quickly poured its contents down Hermione's throat.

"NOO!" she screamed. And, gasping for air, she awoke; body shaking, forehead ice-cold, and eyes alight with fire.

0000

A man stood before her, his head thrown back in a cruel, nauseating laugh, his sleek blond hair billowing out behind him. Stopping abruptly, he yelled, "Crucio!" and a body before him roared in agony.

"NO!" Hermione screamed. She ran toward him, her hands desperate to sooth his aching body, to calm his wound up nerves. But when she reached him, all she could touch was air. "No…" she whispered. "No, Draco… please!" She looked up at the man before her, his wand still pointed at the man writhing painfully across the ground. "Not like this."

The spell lifted and Draco lay, panting, on the ground before her. "You are going to die," hissed the cloaked figure, his hair still billowing from around his masked face. "You are going to die for the sins you have committed." He smirked, his face twisting evilly, the mask born across his face shadowing only his eyes from view. "Any last words, my precious flesh and blood?"

Draco spat, a mouthful of blood splattering across the ground and the hem of the other man's robes. "Go to hell," he croaked.

The man drew back, his robes twisting away from Draco in an attempt to save them from further torment. "Oh I've no doubt you will," the voice hissed.

The scene before Hermione seemed to slow, every movement accentuated as she looked on in horror. As the man raised his wand, Draco curled backward and the scene bathed itself in darkness illuminating, as if on a stage, the two bodies in view…

Draco, and Lucius.

"NO!" Hermione shouted once more. "No you can't… don't!" Tears leaked from her muddy brown eyes as they spilled onto the shaking form crouched at her feet. Looking up at the man before her, she watched as he raised his wand, still pointed directly at Draco's heart and uttered the only two words, which could end his suffering, and enrich hers in the cruelest way possible.

"AVADA KEDAVRA!" he bellowed. A jet of green light shot out of his wand and sailed straight through Hermione's body as she flew across his trembling form, trying desperately to block the spell, but to no avail. Draco's body went rigid for but a moment, and then fell back, plunging into the cold, death eaten ground.

"NOOO!" She screamed, tears flowing rapidly down her face as she watched the love of her life die beneath her, his forehead still knit in pain, as it would stay forever more.

"NO!" Hermione screamed, her voice echoing once more around the room. A face rose into sharp relief before her as her mind escaped the terrible dream plaguing her thoughts.

"Hermione," a voice whispered after a minute, her breathing now the only sound echoing around the room. She turned her head to gaze at Harry, sitting tensely upon the edge of his seat. His eyes, she realized, were alight with tears, though none seemed able to spill from his eyes.

"He's…" she swallowed hard, her mind still reeling from her dream. "He's really dead."

Never before had she been able to conjure, or allow herself to conjure, a picture of what may have happened the night the love of her life had been murdered.

Harry nodded once at her and felt his heart break as he told her this outright lie.

No, he was not dead… but he would be soon. And suddenly he realized, with a jolt of agony, that he wished it were not true. Seeing the look of sheer terror erupt upon her face as blinding realization paled before her, he knew he needed to do something…

And he needed to fast.


A/N: Whatcha think? Review and tell me your thoughts! I LOVE killing Draco, as you may have gathered from my story thus far. It's just so soothing, for some reason, and so much fun to write. evil grin

Much love for my wonderful readers and especially those who review,

PhoenixTearsCG