I'm a horrible person who has been trying to do eighty million things at once. Including trying to update both of my stories. Unfortunately, school takes up quite a bit of my time. A large section of my family is coming in tonight and tomorrow, so things will be very hectic. This is my last bit of free time before total chaos. I figured I'd put it to good use. Hope you like the chapter!

Chapter 20

Questioning

Draco's POV

I didn't sleep after I stormed up the stairs. I felt like shit. I knew I was all the things Hermione had accused me of. And more. Some of the things I had done knowing the pain they caused. I shuddered. I knew I had been a cold, heartless bastard on every occasion I could have been. I had acted like my father, mostly to gain his approval. But somewhere deep inside me I knew I liked it. I had threatened Hermione downstairs, even if I didn't specifically state it. I didn't deserve her friendship, or anyone's for that matter. I had been building walls, alienating myself from everyone for years. Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were the only people left in this world who thought they actually liked me. Blaise was a completely different story. She was always the wild card. She was a little like me. Her father expected her to become one of the few female Death Eaters. She didn't want to become one anymore than I did. But she could be as cold as I am. My heart had become ice, hers had become a glacier.

But what did that matter? Our lives were pre-ordained. I almost envied Potter and his ability to do whatever he wanted. Weasley was the same way. Even as purebloods, their destinies were theirs to choose, to shape. Mine was already cut out and waiting for me. I hated it, and hated myself for actually wanting to follow it at one point. I used to believe everything my father told me about muggleborns and muggles in general. Mudbloods are, were the scum of the earth and didn't deserve to live. They should all be removed from the earth. And I had believed him. With every fiber of my being. I was the perfect Death Eater in training. Then I had come to Hogwarts. And by fourth year I was beginning to see that he was wrong. Granger, a muggleborn, was a genius. She beat me at everything, except Potions, and that was because Snape knew he would suffer worse if I didn't do better than  "some mudblood whore" as my father so eloquently put it. And I hated myself for it. I knew I had been becoming my father. Then I had talked to Snape. He had set me straight. In fifth year, she came to the Yule ball. I think every guy there had stared. And she was on the arm of the pompous Bulgarian. I had been jealous. Of Krum! That thought disgusted me.

But I didn't want to care. Never wanted to care. But I did. And I couldn't explain why. And the worst part was that I had tried to change. And I had gone back on all of that tonight. I had failed myself. I didn't deserve to live. The world would probably be a better place without me. I pulled a small knife out of my bedside table. The handle was carved into a silver edged dragon with emerald eyes. And it was sharp. I gently ran it along the top of my arm. The blood beaded up quickly but thinly. It shone darkly against my pale skin. I slid it across the top of my hand, a little deeper this time. The pain was minimal, but it felt good. So good. I turned my arm over, the underside pale and blank. Pushing a little harder, I ran the blade from wrist to elbow. The blood welled up quickly, and it burnt this time. The blood flowed dark and red. I switched hands, dripping onto the carpet. I slid the blade up the other arm, adding pressure to cut deep. I could feel the blood flowing down my arm, and it dripped warmly onto my legs. Then someone knocked on my door and eased it open.

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Hermione's POV

After heading upstairs, I couldn't sleep. Malfoy was weighing heavily on my mind. I felt horrible for saying those things to him, even if they had been true. But I was tired of backing down, always trying to stop the fights. It wasn't right, but I had done it. There was no way to take the words back now. But I still felt badly. Usually everything I said to Malfoy was true and completely warranted, but I had gone overboard this time. I knew he was trying to change. I was watching it happening. He wasn't the same boy we had met on the train in first year. None of us were those same people. Everyone was growing up, becoming the person who would be graduating at the end of next year. But Malfoy wasn't his father anymore than I was my mother. No one was an identical copy of their parents. Maybe in looks, but definitely not in personality. I knew that, but I had still called him his father. Called him Voldemort. If he had hurt me, it would have been understandable.

But the fact that he hadn't. The most he had done was hold me against the wall, but had never actually touched me. All my bruises were from falling down the stairs. I felt terrible. I knew I had to apologize, but wasn't sure if I should wait til morning. He was probably still fuming at me. I turned off my light and tried to fall asleep, but couldn't. With a deep sigh, I pulled myself up and limped for my door.

I hesitated outside his door, unsure I if I should knock or not. Then my hand rose of its own accord, and the other went for the handle. I eased his door open.

"Malfoy? Are you in here?" the room was dark, but my eyes were adjusted. He was sitting on his bed, looking up at me, but the moonlight falling on his arms looked funny. "Malfoy? Are you alright?"

"Granger? What are you doing here?"

"I-I came to say I was sorry. I didn't mean to say those things earlier."

"Wha-?"

"I'm sorry, Malfoy." He was silent for a minute, and I stepped closer, and screamed. His arms were covered in blood. "Draco! What are you doing?"

"I- I'm not sure." His voice was soft, and sounded a little weak. Blood loss, I had to stop the flow. I pulled his sheet up and ripped a piece off of it and wrapped it tightly around his upper arm, then the other one.

"Malfoy, we have to go to the infirmary, now." He didn't move, just stared forward, swaying slightly. "Draco, please come on. Please." He looked at me.

"Why are you here? Just go back to your room, Granger. I'll be alright." I slapped him across the face, hard. He glared at me. "What the hell was that for?"

"To knock some sense into you head. Now come on!" I tugged at him until he stood. He was still bleeding heavily. I threw his arm around my shoulders and drug him for the stairs. "Please, Draco." He moved a bit more willingly, but it still took us almost ten minutes to get to the infirmary. He kept moving slower and slower. And he leaned heavily on me. Stepping inside the door, I started yelling. "MADAME POMFREY! MADAME POMFREY! I need you NOW!" she came out of her office, hair everywhere, robes flapping.

"Miss Granger! What is your-" she stopped when she saw me. "Oh Merlin." She levitated him over to the bed. "How?"

"I'm not sure. Please." She turned her attention to him, muttering under her breath. After a tense half hour, she stepped back.

"He'll be alright." I nodded and promptly threw up.

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Hmmmm, I have to say that was an interesting chapter. I didn't know Draco was going to be suicidal. He's always surprising me. Anyway, I lost my very long thank you list, but I want to say THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed. It means soo much to me. Reviews keep me going, and remind me to update. *Hint hint* Thank you to everyone for reading!

~K~