Malfoy took a step forward. "Ginevra…"
She took a step back, shaking her head. She had seen his face and knew what it meant. He was scared for her. He cared about her. For some reason that terrified her more than anything else. She drew her wand and threw up a barrier around herself. "Don't get any closer. I don't know what you want, why you're here, but I don't care. You said I wasn't fighting. I was. That's the problem. I was fighting. I can't fight anymore. I can't do this alone. I was fighting to survive. You wanted me to fight to live. Well, I tried. I lost."
He tried to get closer, ignoring her words, and was surprised at how strong a barrier she could produce. "I was wrong, Ginevra. I demanded too much. I expected you to win a battle ten times harder than the one I've been losing my entire life. Instead of understanding more than anyone else, like I should have, I demanded more. I'm sorry."
She started crying and shook her head until she was dizzy. "No! It doesn't matter. You can't help me. No one can help me. It's over. I'm too lost."
He watched in horror as she produced a pocket knife and, with trembling hands, made three vertical cuts on her left wrist.
"I tried to kill the pain," she said. Her voice was so weak. He fought against the wall. "But it only brought more," she continued. She dropped the knife as she tried to grasp it in her left hand. Carefully picking it up, she cut her right wrist. "There," she indicated the blood running across the floor, "is your betrayal. There is my…crimson regret."
"No…" Draco screamed as he slammed himself against the barrier. "No…" he whimpered as he slid down it to sit on the floor across from her.
She looked at him, confused. "I'm dying," she said simply.
"Let me through, I can save you," he pleaded.
"Am I too lost to be saved?" she asked. "I'm dying. I'm bleeding. I can't scream anymore."
"Just let me through…"
"Do you remember me?" she asked.
He could tell she was growing weaker. Tears started streaming down his face. "Yes," was all he could say.
"I've been lost for so long." She laid down on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. After a second or two of silence, she asked, "Will I see you on the other side, or will you forget me?"
"I'll never forget you," he promised.
He watched her blood pool around her. She was beautiful. He slammed his fist against the invisible wall that kept him from her.
"My wounds cry for the grave," she whispered. She rolled her head to face him again. "Not the ones on my arm, but the ones in my soul. It cries for deliverance. Will I be denied?" She closed her eyes.
He slammed his fist against he barrier so quickly he barely caught himself as the force of his blow carried him to the floor. She was now to weak to maintain the wall.
He hurried to her side and stopped the bleeding as quickly as he could.