A/N: I'm really really really sorry for the extremely long wait but I've had writers block and this chapter was kind of hard for me to write. By the next chapter we've sort of reached a halfway point with the plot. So let me know what you think! This chapter is depressing, in my opinion. So here's your warning.

Thank you to: Jade2099, Pseudoephedrine, tfobmv18, Plagued Dark Thoughts and Kabij for reviewing. Without you guys I really wouldn't have the will to write at all.

Chapter 20: Faithful Failures

Draco:

It was something very different. Rather, I could not hold onto conscious thought. It scared me. I could not keep myself safe in such a method. The light would burn me. I knew it would... it always had.

When I awoke, the light scarring me, I found myself surrounded by soft skin. Soft skin and fingers gently stroking my neck. I would have panicked, I should have panicked, when I felt that there was a leg around my waist, restraining me to the bed. When I caught sight of what it was, who it was actually, I relaxed as much as I was able to. It was the angel that kept the bad dreams away. She had come to visit me! Or perhaps I was still asleep?

"You're awake," the angel said to me, smiling. The angel had talked to me, just now, yes? This could not be a dream then, no. No, of course not. It was odd. Had she come to say goodbye? Yes, that had to be it. She had come to say goodbye to me.

She stroked the side of my face, gently. Tenderly. When she leaned down to bring her face close to mine, I panicked afresh. This could not happen. This could never happen. A memory flashed before my eyes. One of a pretty blonde girl in a dingy, dirty cell, leaning towards me just like the angel was leaning towards me now.

Heartbreak, lies and a flash of green light before I was met with lifeless, cold eyes and an evil cackle. No, this angel could not touch me. I was not pure enough. I would kill.

Maim.

When I pulled away and scrambled off the bed we had been on, much to the beauty's shock, I landed right on my arse. The floor was hard. It was cold. She got up and looked at me with concern shining in her eyes but that only made my panic grow. She would come after me, I knew it. She couldn't. It wasn't a good option. I would not be safe. She would not be safe!

"Draco? What's wrong?" she asked me. Was she talking to me? Surely, that was my name... Oh, yes. The angel knew my name. How could I hide from her if she knew my name? I flinched when she made to come closer, when she made to get off of the bed. The angel was hurt by my actions, I could tell. But better this than to be a dead, lifeless corpse.

I remembered again. It hadn't just been one corpse. It had been dozens... villages of them! Yes, yes. I remembered. They would not have let me forget. They would haunt me. They would tell me their names and cling to my clothes and beg... And then they would bleed.

They would all die and I would always be pulled back to move onto the next crowd.

I ran from the room without looking back.

When the sun had set, I made my way back to the cursed house. I stood on the porch, the innocent looking porch, and wished I could get the haunting pain over with so the blessed blankness would come back to me. It couldn't be far away now, could it? I could be empty again. I was a little empty already, in fact. Not all good things were gone.

Still, I stood there, unable to move. I knew the eyes were watching every breath I took, every shiver that crawled up my spine. They were all watching me, I knew they were. They always would. Always have been. They were probably still screaming. They were probably in pain... I just was not able to hear it.

Can screams possibly be silent?

Yes... yes, I suppose they could be.

The door opened of its own violation so I knew the eyes had seen me and acknowledged my cowardly, filthy presence. It was time to pay my dues so that they would let me be empty of consciousness. I entered and made my way to the confines of my own chambers as silently as I could.

No one came. No one followed me.

I hadn't expected anyone to, after all.

I gently made my way under the bed, making sure not to make any noise lest I disturb the peace. Or attract any unwanted people to witness such a sacred ceremony. When I stared at the underside of this bed that was no doubt mine, I realized it must have been a while since I'd been here. Perhaps they were mad at me.

When the howling chants of "Stupid, stupid, useless! Broken, worthless..." began, I knew that they had always been mad at me. It broke me just a little bit and just a little bit more empty bliss followed. It was relieving. I waited for them to yell louder and slowly... so slowly, they eventually did.

This is exactly what I was. Nothing like the angel. Nothing like any of those innocents that had died before me. Nothing like the little boy that had hidden behind me from the men in black cloaks and masks. Had he died because his blood was not red enough? Was my blood red enough? I remembered the little muggles and their insides being extracted by magic. They had seemed just as red to me.

So much blood.

I prayed for the voices to scream louder this time, maybe they'd have me go deaf and I would not have to see the screaming spectacles ever again. But I knew it was only until next time. I knew I was just as evil as the men in cloaks. I knew I deserved to be in the spot of the scared little boy.

The dead little boy.

He had had silver eyes and chocolate hair. And now he had nothing. I shivered and felt the blood pulse in my veins just a little faster. Good. Faster was good. Soon, the voices themselves went away, happy to have tortured me. I could not remember them at this point. I did not even know my own name. I simply knew that in order to exist, I would have to breathe.

And so that is what I did.

I breathed.

Hermione:

I cried so much in secret these days that I had to rush to replace tissue boxes before anyone found out. It was a strange thing to worry about though, people finding out. Who would care that Hermione Granger cried rivers? Or buckets, more accurately. No one can actually cry a river. Perhaps I would. Perhaps I could set a new world record.

But I was afraid of anyone finding out. I didn't want anyone to know that I was so weak. Not Dobby, not Draco's associates, not my very few friends, and definitely not Draco. I wasn't sure he'd notice something like that, anyways. I put up a brave front regardless, for everyone but more simply just for Draco, hoping that maybe this would help him get back to me.

It was my fault after all that he was like this. I had done this to him out of my selfish need to worm my way into his life.

I hated myself more than I could bear these days.

And yet, I managed. Every day I would wake and search for Draco, first thing. Sometimes I would find him, sometimes I wouldn't. Either way, it was clear that he didn't want me around. I probably repulsed him, and I deserved it too. The way he would behave when I was around only confirmed this fact.

He stopped coming to my apartment, even though he'd practically been living there for a year. It was as if he wasn't even aware that it existed. He refused to acknowledge me and still I tried. Probably because I felt guilty that it was because of me that he was so utterly blank again. Maybe I just wanted to take care of him, help him get back onto his feet before I left him to his own devices.

I tried.

Most days he would behave as blankly as I'd found him that first time in Central Park. It was on these days that I had to follow him around and make sure that he didn't hurt himself in his haze. Some days he would be slightly aware and tortured just because he was still breathing and conscious. On those days I would not be allowed near him or even in his house. Dobby would show me out politely, even though I'd done the worst I could to his "master".

On those days I'd go home and cry myself into a fitful sleep.

/

"Draco?"

No answer, but that was not so unusual. He lay beneath his extravagant bed in his extravagant room. A room that was in his very beautiful, very empty and cold house. His eyes were red and was staring blankly at the underside of his bed. My breath caught. Would he turn me away today?

I didn't say anything. That was a sort of rule these days: Don't talk, just don't even think about opening your mouth, please. He didn't flinch though, as I slid in beside him and his breathing remained the same even rate. This was a good sign. It meant he wouldn't have a bitch fit or an allergic reaction to my very presence.

"Have you eaten anything?" I asked him, flinching at the sound of my own quiet, hoarse voice. I don't know why I still tried or why I still bothered talking to the unresponsive blond. Two weeks into it and I still couldn't abide by the rules.

I knew my voice only irritated the fuck out of him but I just couldn't stop. I was lost. Without him my world had fallen apart. I was going to crack soon. There wasn't much more I could take of this... soon, I'd just point my sad little wand to my head and mutter the words that would end this. It wasn't as if anyone really wanted me around anyways. My world was completely broken as it was.

And because of me, his world had broken too. "I'm sorry," I whispered to him.

Long moments passed before he finally acknowledged my presence.

"Can I go now?" he asked me. The dreaded question that always came and one that I had to answer, as I had learned, or he would break further.

"Yes, Draco. You can go."

Draco:

My world was a haze of despair on bad days. Most days it was just worrisome trudging. I could make it if I played it safe. I was playing it safe, so I definitely would make it out of here. I could manage. No one would find me. I had respite, yes. I had no emotions and that was safe.

Otherwise, the memories would come back to haunt me and that would hurt. No, I had no emotions. It couldn't possibly hurt if I had emotions, could it? But it would. Incessantly. Constantly.

It was a world of agony and all I wished for was apathy.

I had apathy, though, and my angel was still around. I saw her daily. I saw her flitting back and forth. She would stay, I had a feeling. So it would be safe. Memories couldn't plague me if it was safe. Not with the angel around, right? But sometimes, she left and that was when the pain would start.

I really needed to learn the lessons.

"Itty bitty Draco, don't you know? There isn't any love for the broken."

A/N: So what did you think? I know it's a little shorter than my usual. Drop a line! And if you lot know any good fanfics to read, drop a suggestion.

Unsigned Reviews:

Kabij: I'm glad you enjoyed it! I like being a little evil to my characters once in a while. :)