Chapter 3 -First attempt

Several weeks passed and slowly the twittering gossip revolving the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin bathroom duel began to subside. The only evidence of that night were the white curse lines crisscrossing Draco's face and chest. They were thread-thin and not all that noticeable if you weren't looking closely. They didn't bother Draco half as much as he'd expected them to.

Pansy wouldn't admit it aloud, but Draco could tell she didn't mind them either. They added a new curiosity to his features as if he were some kind of war veteran.

Draco observed his subtly scarred reflection in the mirror, tilting his face back and forth so the little lines caught the light.

The sun hadn't yet risen and it would be another few hours before breakfast started in the Great Hall, but Draco was already groomed and dressed. He fully intended to devote this extra time to the Room of Requirement. Despite his little "Suicide Plan," Draco still felt compelled to keep plodding along with the Vanishing Cabinet.

Who knew when he would get a chance to goad Potter into accidentally murdering him, and if The Dark Lord called on him at a moment's notice, he needed to be prepared. It had to look as if he were still moving towards his target. Slow progress was better than no progress at all, as far as he was concerned.

Draco straightened the collar of his button-up one last time before turning away from the mirror. He exited the Slytherin common room quietly and made his way to the seventh floor.

He, unfortunately, had discovered a new tactic to try on the cabinet while browsing Spellman's Syllybary. A set of binding runes existed that, if carved and charmed properly, might just stabilize the cabinets' connection. How he had managed such genius with minimal effort, he had no idea. It was the most forward progress he'd made in weeks and he was hardly even trying.

Draco arrived at the blank space of wall and paced back and forth impatiently until the familiar door appeared.

He let himself in, stomach churning with nerves.

He now had two hourglasses going: one for the cabinet, and the other for his death. The pressure from them both was staggering. His class work was really starting to suffer now that he'd split himself between the stress of them both. He was stretched far too thin, and despite all the time he'd spent working on his suicide mission, Draco only had several half-thought out ideas on how Potter might accidentally maim him, and none of them were really to his liking. Should he have Potter drown him in the lake, or should he coordinate some sort of fatal Quidditch accident? Or maybe the Astronomy Tower was a good setting for a murder, after all. If he were to lure Potter into dueling him up there, it would be easy to stage a fall. At least his death would be rather quick. Painless, even, if he was lucky.

Draco frowned as he came upon the menacing black cabinet. Damn his rune discovery. He hoped it wouldn't work. He still had so much more suicide planning to finish.

None the less, Draco grudgingly set to work. He unlatched the cabinet doors and fanned them open before kneeling carefully down inside. He used his wand to inscribe the memorized runes, hand held steady to ensure each mark was perfectly precise. He was sweating by the time he had finished the 3 inch line of script. It didn't look like much, but it could be everything.

Draco rocked back onto his heels and reached for the apple he'd brought with him from yesterday's lunch. He juggled it absently for a moment before setting it down in the Vanishing Cabinet and closing the doors.

Please don't work. Draco prayed, as he leaned his forehead against the cool wood and muttered the incantation he'd practiced.

A little whoosh told him the apple had been sent to its brother cabinet.

Draco pulled the doors back open to confirm. As he'd expected, the apple was gone. He carefully closed the cabinet once more, hands starting to shake.

Shit. His suspicions had been correct. The runes had stabilized the connection, otherwise, the apple wouldn't have vanished so quickly. It had gone much more swiftly than any other object he'd managed to disappear-

He startled as a whoosh and a thump sounded from within the cabinet.

He stared at the doors with wide eyes, frightened, very frightened to find what had returned to him.

When he finally worked up the courage, he clicked the latches open and cautiously peered inside.

The apple sat there, shiny and pristine, perfectly unharmed aside from the crisp bite that had been taken from it. Someone had found the apple and sent it back. Perhaps Borgin had received it, or Yaxley, or maybe Fenrir Grayback.

Draco could feel the color draining from his face.

The cabinet was nearly mended, which was bad enough to begin with, but it was much worse than that.

Whoever was waiting in Knockturn alley knew it too.

"Harry, where were you today after Herbology?" Hermione asked as she Ron and Harry made their way down from the common room to the Great Hall for supper. They were rather late to eat, some of the last stragglers hoping they hadn't missed the main course.

"Err-" Harry said awkwardly, shoving his invisibility cloak deeper into his robe. The Marauder's map was also tucked safely into his pants pocket, just a blank piece of parchment if anyone picked it up now.

"I hope you weren't doing what I think you were doing,"

Harry tried to pretend he hadn't heard her, but Hermione grasped his arm and pulled him to a stop.

Ron groaned and turned to them. "Not now, Hermione. I'm starving!"

But she ignored him and gave Harry a searching look, hand still gripped around his forearm. "I hope you weren't sneaking off after Malfoy again,"

"No! Well, I...you know," Harry said lamely, studying his feet with sudden intent.

"You were, weren't you!" Her eye's widened and she gave his arm a squeeze. "Harry, you've got to leave it alone. You're only going to get yourself into more trouble! Remember what Dumbledore told you. He said it's not your concer-"

"But Hermione, he's back at it again!" Harry burst out with. He had to hastily lower his voice as several Ravenclaws gave him curious looks as they passed, "He's been disappearing into the Room of Requirement all week. I thought he'd given it up after what happened, but now he's in there more than ever! Whatever he's up to is dangerous. He's already cursed Katie Bell -don't look at me like that, I'm sure it was him! If Dumbledore's not going to take it seriously, then it's up to me to stop him from hurting anyone else,"

"Harry, you're being unreasonable! You're obsessed! Ron, tell him,"

Ron shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably, "Yeah, well...she's sort of right, isn't she mate? Even McGonagall said Malfoy couldn't have cursed Katie. He was serving detention at the time, remember? Plus, don't you think it would be kind of unlikely for You-Know-Who to enlist Malfoy's help on anything important? He's only 16 and You-Know-Who's got loads of Death Eaters to do his bidding. Why would he pick Malfoy?"

"You're forgetting Malfoy's the same age as us, and we've faced and beaten Voldemort more times than any other wizards out there. I don't think age is something he discriminates against," Harry growled, ignoring Ron's exaggerated flinch as he said Voldemort's name. Harry removed his arm from Hermione's hand and brusquely began striding on in the direction of the Great Hall.

"Look, I've told you both exactly what I overheard Malfoy saying that night. If you two don't believe me, or - or don't want to help find out what's going on, that's fine by me!" He said heatedly. Ron and Hermione exchanged a nervous look.

"Harry, we believe you, it's just I don't think it's your responsibility -"

Harry turned on his heel to face her, his temper flaring, "Defeating Voldemort my first year wasn't my responsibility, nor was fighting the basilisk my second year, but good thing I did, yeah? Or would you have preferred I hadn't done any of those things? We all probably would be dead by now and wouldn't need to be having this conversation,"

Hermione looked scandalized. "Harry, that's not what I meant. But..but don't you remember when the Chamber of Secrets was open? You thought Malfoy was behind the attacks then too, but he wasn't. What if you're mistaken again?"

Harry screwed his face up and shook his head adamantly. "No. This time's different. I have evidence-"

Ron suddenly grabbed them both by the sleeve, interrupting their argument by pulling them to a stop.

"Oy, look. Speak of the devil," Ron nodded over towards the far stairs leading down from the seventh floor. A slender figure in formfitting pants and a white uniform top was currently descending towards them.

"Malfoy," Harry growled. The Slytherin hadn't yet noticed he was not the only one in the corridor. His gray eyes were trained on the floor and he wore a troubled expression, lips pressed firmly together into a worried line. His silver-blonde hair was not slicked neatly per his usual fashion. The locks were mussed and feathery around his face as if he'd run his hands through his hair too many times.

Harry frowned as Malfoy drew closer.

To put it bluntly, Malfoy looked unwell.

He was even thinner than he'd been a few weeks ago, jawline sharp and cut beneath deeply hollowed cheeks. His face was paler than ever, nearly the same color as his button-up, and he had purple bruises beneath his eyes as if he hadn't slept properly in ages. The pompous superior attitude he usually wore like a cloak was gone. He looked ragged and lonely without either Crabbe or Goyle flanking him.

A pit was settling back into Harry's stomach as he watched the other boy. It wasn't anger or dislike, despite the heat he'd been feeling only moments earlier.

Harry again was feeling worried for Malfoy. It was an instinctual emotion and didn't make a lick of sense. He should feel happy that Malfoy looked this terrible considering it likely meant whatever he was up to was going badly. He should feel relieved!

But he didn't.

He couldn't stop thinking about Malfoy sobbing over the grimy sink, tears rushing down his face. "If I don't do it soon, he says he'll kill my mother and father...and then he says he'll kill me..."

Harry swallowed and tried to push the odd, far too civil, thoughts from his mind.

It wasn't until Malfoy was within 10 paces of them that he finally realized their presence. Harry found himself stiffening as Malfoy's fretting expression was artfully replaced by a scowl, his spine straightening and chin tilting up to compose himself.

"What are you doing here?" Malfoy spat. The Slytherin had grown taller over the last year, Harry realized. He was now level with Ron's gangly form and had Harry by at least half a head. "Been tailing me again, Potter? Don't tell me you've enlisted the Weasel and Know-it-all's help now?"

"We've as much right to be in the hall as you, and don't call her that, you slimy git!" Ron snarled, wand emerging from his pocket.

Malfoy gave Ron a disdainful glare as if he was something very unpleasant, but made no move to take out his own wand. "You're right Weasley. Probably shouldn't anger Potter here. He might try to murder me again,"

Malfoy's words were like a punch to Harry's gut. The blonde knew it too, judging by his satisfied smirk. Suddenly the thread-like scars across Malfoy's visible skin became more obvious to Harry. They made neat X's across the right half of his face, and a few disappeared beneath the fabric of his shirt.

"That was an accident, Malfoy. Harry didn't know what that spell did-" Hermione said.

"-but don't think you didn't deserve what you got," Ron followed with fiercely.

Malfoy's eyes flashed dangerously at Ron, but he still made no move to withdraw his wand. "Such violent words for a Gryffindor. And here I thought you were supposed to be Dumbledore's little angels,"

"Dumbledore's Army, Malfoy. Get it right. You're not so tough when you're daddy's locked up in Azkaban, are you," Ron goaded.

Harry watched pain flicker across the blonde's face, but it was skillfully masked by a hateful expression. It was clear Ron had hit a tender spot. Malfoy's cheeks filled with a hint of color and suddenly he seemed to tremble with anger, finally provoked into pulling the wand from his back pocket. He pointed it directly at Ron's throat, clutching the hilt with pale thin fingers.

"My father wouldn't be in prison if not for you three," He said venomously.

"Oh no! Don't," Hermione said shrilly as Harry stepped up beside Ron, his wand brandished as well. Harry was relieved to find that his odd sense of concern was suppressed, a swell of anger returning to him at the mention of Lucius Malfoy. It dredged up too many bad feelings about The Department of Mysteries and losing Sirius. This was why he hated Malfoy. Yes, this felt right.

"Your father deserves every minute he spends in Azkaban. He's a foul git who's been working for Voldemort," Harry said. Malfoy flinched even more badly than Ron as he said the name, "Your father and every other Death Eater should be locked up for good,"

"Is that so, Potter," Malfoy's wand lowered from Ron's throat slightly. A calculating expression suddenly crossed the Slytherin's face and his eyes flicked up to the ceiling. Harry and Ron both followed his gaze but it must have been a distraction.

With a non-verbal command, Malfoy's wand erupted with a red-colored spell which hit Ron in the gut, sending him skidding across the floor in an undignified rumple of robes, wand flying about 15 feet into the air and landing with a clatter on the opposite side of the hall. Hermione squealed and hurried after him.

"Ron!" Harry shouted. The redhead was tangled in the knot his robes had become and cursing more colorfully than a sailor, but looked overall unharmed. Harry breathed a quick sigh of relief and turned back to the Slytherin, "That was a dirty trick, Malfoy! You fight like a coward!"

Malfoy's wand was aimed at Harry's chest as he walked in a smooth predatory arc. "Fighting two on one is what's cowardly, you bint. If you want to duel, Potter, face me all on your own,"

"Expelliarmus!" Harry answered, hurling a disarming spell at the Slytherin. Malfoy dodged it with prudent efficiency, his eyes flicking distractedly around the room and then back up to the ceiling. His face had gone a dusky sallow color as if he might suddenly get ill.

If he'd looked unwell before, he looked like downright dragon shit at this point. It was unsettling to see Malfoy look so unkempt. Unhinged, almost.

Harry chanced one more glance upward to try and figure out what the hell Malfoy was looking at. There was a painted mural of the stars and an enormous shimmering chandelier above them, but nothing else. Harry trained his focus back on his adversary just as Malfoy fired a spell in his direction but it was poorly aimed and missed him by about a mile.

Harry retaliated with a leg locking curse, but it was deflected by a neat shield charm. Malfoy had finally focused iron-gray eyes on Harry, his expression suddenly much more intense.

"You think you're so special, Potter. So fucking noble," Malfoy's aim was much better this time. A stinging spell hit Harry in the right shoulder, making his entire arm go numb. His fingers felt so fat and clumsy, he nearly dropped his wand. He fumbled it to his left hand and threw another spell at Malfoy but it was knocked away like a wad of paper.

"Perfect. Fucking. Potter," Malfoy accented each word with a cleverly directed spell. None of them were actually causing damage, but each time they stuck, it was as if he'd been jabbed with an uncomfortable zap of electricity.

"The Chosen One," Malfoy said in a mocking voice. "The weight of the world is resting upon your heroic shoulder's, isn't it, Potter? Must be so heavy,"

Harry took a few stumbling steps sideways and managed to dodge one of the stinging spells. A small victory. When the hell had Malfoy become so good a dueling?

"You and your Golden trio think you've got such a tough life -" Malfoy had advanced on him, coming so close that if Harry wanted to he could drop his wand and punch the other boy, but he'd become wholeheartedly distracted. With Malfoy so near, Harry could see his face properly. It was then he realized the blonde in front of him was verging on tears. He looked terrified for some reason.

"-But you don't know how good you've got it," Malfoy spat quietly so only Harry could hear him.

"Harry! Stop it! Just walk away!" Hermione was yelling as she helped Ron up off the floor.

"Jinx his stocks off, Harry!" Ron shouted.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Harry tried. He suddenly wanted this fight to be over as much as Hermione. There was something wrong with the interaction. Why the hell was Malfoy crying?

To his dismay, Malfoy leaped aside, putting space between them, his eyes flying up to the damn ceiling again. Harry took his chance.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, but his arm suddenly had a mind of its own, angling upward to aim in a completely different direction. It was as if he'd been confounded. His spell missed so badly, it flew several arm spans over Malfoy's head, striking the breastplate of a suit of armor and ricocheting wildly. With what must have been the worst luck in the world, the rogue spell shot upwards and collided directly with the stock of the chandelier.

There was a horrible crack as the metal holding the fixture snapped.

"HARRY!" Hermione's scream pierced his ears but he was frozen in place, he was standing directly beneath the chandelier, watching it give way.

He was going to be crushed to death, he realized in horror, and yet he couldn't seem to move.

There was a flash of white blonde in his periphery. He looked forward just in time to see that it was Malfoy pelting at him. The Slytherin dropped his shoulder like a muggle rugby player and tackled Harry backward. All the wind was knocked out of him as he was barreled unceremoniously off his feet. No sooner had he hit the floor, did the entire hall rock with a ground shattering CRASH.

Harry had to shield his face as splintering glass and crystal rained over him. He could hear Hermione's terrified shriek and Ron's surprised shout behind him.

It took a moment for the dust to finally settle. Harry carefully let his arm down when it did. Tinkling glass slid off his robes and crunched beneath him as he moved.

He looked over his shoulder to see Ron sort of clutching Hermione as if he'd been shielding her. They both seemed uninjured but remained motionless, looking at the fallen chandelier with expressions of mute horror.

Harry swallowed shakily and propped himself up to peer at the damage.

His stomach did a violent flip as he realized why Ron and Hermione looked so horrified.

It was Malfoy.

The Slytherin lay sprawled on his back several feet before him, pinned beneath the great gold plated chandelier. It was crushing down upon his chest and the rest of his body was hidden beneath the twisted metal. A puddle of blood was already blossoming out around him.

Harry gaped at his rival wordlessly as if his brain couldn't quite fathom what had happened. He'd been trying to end the dual without any injuries. He'd been purposefully choosing spells not to harm!

But Malfoy was far from unharmed.

The Slytherin's eyes were still open, trained up at the starry night mural which now had a great number of cracks running through it where the fixture had broken loose. His mouth was open slightly and he was sort of twitching like a fish out of water trying to breathe air with gills.

It was the sectumsempra incident all over again.

"No, no -" Harry scrabbled frantically towards Malfoy on hands and knees, cutting his palms on bits of broken glass as he went. Malfoy's face was littered with little cuts and there was blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. He looked up at Harry silently, slate eyes meeting green.

Malfoy looked...passive. Serene almost. A shiver went down Harry's spine as he realized it was the same look he'd seen on Malfoy's face several weeks ago.

Why did he look so numb?

"H-help me get this off him!" Harry stuttered after too long a pause. He reeled back and pointed a shaking wand at the twisted metal, "W-wingardium Leviosa!"

The chandelier groaned a bit and tried to pick itself up, but it must have weighed a ton.

"Wingardium Leviosa," He heard Hermione say behind him. The chandelier groaned some more and started to lift a few more inches. Malfoy gave an involuntary rasp and more blood spilled from his mouth as the weight shifted.

"Wingardium Leviosa," Ron said, red freckles stark against his white face. With great effort, the chandelier finally levitated into the air, sending more shards of glass and crystal skittering across the corridor.

Even with all three of them working together, the chandelier only lifted itself a few feet above the ground. It wouldn't stay air-born for long.

While maintaining his part of the levitation spell, Harry darted forward and gripped Malfoy beneath the armpits, dragging him from the wreckage. No sooner had he gotten Malfoy clear did the chandelier collapse back down with another ear-splitting crash.

There was a stir of commotion from below. They weren't far from the Great Hall, so undoubtedly the students and teachers had heard the ruckus.

Panting, Harry looked down at Malfoy, unsure of what to do next. Panic was welling up inside him. If he didn't do something soon, Malfoy was going to die. He was sure of it. He tried to wrack his brain for a healing spell, anything, but he couldn't think of a single one, and even if he could, Harry would have had no clue where to start. It didn't seem there was an inch of Malfoy that had been unscathed. Both of his legs were broken and there were multiple blunt puncture wounds through his abdomen. There was so much blood, it was hard to tell where all of it was coming from.

The blonde was trying to draw breath now that the weight had been lifted from his chest but his ribcage had been crushed badly and frothy red foam was bubbling from the wounds, turning his white shirt scarlet. The calm expression he'd been wearing was gone. He was grimacing painfully and choking on the blood in the back of his throat.

It was gruesome. Absolutely terrible.

"PEEVES! If you're behind this, I shall call the headmaster! Peeves!" Professor McGonagall shouted as she hurried into sight, clutching her robes up away from her ankles as she jogged towards them. Severus Snape was following not far behind the transfiguration teacher, looking livid and greasy as ever.

"You three? What are you... " Professor McGonagall trailed off abruptly as she spotted Harry crouching over Malfoy, who was mangled and shuddering in a pool of his own blood.

"Draco," Snape swooped forward, his bat-like robes billowing past McGonagall who was temporarily rooted in shock. He shoved Harry away as he knelt down beside the Slytherin. His black wand appeared from his sleeve and he began sweeping it over Draco's torso, muttering incantations so quickly, Harry could not distinguish where one word ended and another began.

The bleeding seemed to halt in its tracks but Malfoy was turning blue with incipient asphyxiation, his breaths coming in irregular, agonal gasps. It looked like Malfoy had fallen mercifully unconscious, eyes finally closed and face slack.

"Mr. Potter," He found himself being moved more gently by Professor McGonagall as she settled down on Malfoy's other side. "Run and tell Madame Pomfrey what's happened. We'll be bringing Mr. Malfoy to her in critical condition shortly. Now go, all three of you!" She dismissed them briskly before falling in synch with Snape's rattling chants, waving her own wand over Malfoy as well. There was a series of sickening snaps as Malfoy's ribs were forcibly reshaped to relieve the pressure.

"Harry," Hermione squeaked as she and Ron hoisted him to his feet. Harry's legs felt like jelly and he couldn't tear his eyes from Malfoy's blood-stained face.

"Potter," Snape growled so menacingly it broke Harry from his trance. His eyes were burning with such anger, Harry felt a jolt of fear run through him.

With one last glance at Malfoy's prone form, he turned on his heel and sprinted towards the hospital wing, Hermione and Ron in tow.

Ayoo thank you for the reviews/follows/favorites. Deepest apologies for any grammar/spelling issues I have missed!