CW: Panic attack in the last scene; see end notes for summary of scene if you choose to skip it.
Ginny glared at Draco Malfoy from across the Great Hall over dinner, barely noticing her food. He was holding court with the Slytherins, laughing and joking with his friends without a care in the world. Blaise Zabini was to his right, a broad smile on his face as Malfoy told some joke. To his left, Gregory Goyle burst out laughing, smacking the table with his hand. Vincent Crabbe sat across from him, and though Ginny couldn't see his face, she thought he looked less amused than the others. Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and Daphne Greengrass were there too, laughing along. Pansy was clearly trying to get Malfoy's attention, but he didn't seem to notice her. After a while, she seemed to give up and started chatting with Nott instead.
Ginny stabbed her fork into her potatoes, barely listening to the chatter of her friends - something about their Transfiguration exam, from the sound of it. It had been three days since her conversation with Harry and Ron, and she had done her best to leave things alone. She was failing miserably at it.
She had turned the whole situation over in her mind so many times by this point that the details were starting to blur together. Dumbledore had said that Malfoy was wasting his time, according to Harry. But what did that mean? Did it mean that the threat wasn't a credible one? Maybe the Deathstick- it really needed a better name- had been destroyed at some point, so Dumbledore knew it wasn't a viable option. Or maybe it hadn't been real at all... a historical inaccuracy. She somehow doubted that You-Know-Who would make quite such a big mistake, but he wasn't all-knowing. Trying to get the prophecy from the Department of Mysteries had been a series of trial and error all last year, after all - maybe this was the same.
"Don't you agree, Ginny?" Ava asked as she took a bite of bread.
"Huh?" Ginny replied, shaking her head a bit. "Sorry, what did you say?"
"That we should get tickets!"
"Oh! Er...sorry, I really wasn't paying attention," she said with a blush. "Tickets for what?"
"The Weird Sisters, of course," Jessica said from Ava's other side. "They're playing in London at the end of June, right after term ends. Ava was saying we should all go together."
"Oh that would be amazing!" Ginny said, even though she knew her parents were unlikely to say yes. Weird Sisters tickets would be insanely expensive, especially for a London show. But it had been amazing to see them at Hogwarts two years ago...
"I probably won't be able to go," Kathleen said glumly. "My mum will say no."
"Mine too," Ginny said quickly, not wanting Kathleen to feel left out. "Too bad. It would be incredible to see them live at a real venue."
"Would your mum let you stay with me for that weekend?" Lydia asked Kathleen. "We'd drop you off at home afterward. My parents are super boring, your mum would love them."
Ginny's mind drifted away from the conversation as the Slytherin table burst out into a particularly loud peal of laughter. She glowered in their general direction. What was so funny, anyway?
Ginny watched Malfoy for a moment longer as he and Zabini cackled over something. Trying to reconcile this Malfoy with the one she had overheard in the library was jarring. Here, he looked like what he was - a teenage boy enjoying a meal with some friends. In the library he had sounded much older.
"-I bet I could enchant our shirts to look like their different album covers-"
"-and Kathleen, what if your mum did our hair beforehand? Would she feel better about it if she saw us off? I think that-"
Of course, these weren't the only two versions of Malfoy she had seen lately. There was this one, the popular Slytherin student with a gathering of loyal followers around him - Regular Malfoy. There was the one in the library, whom she had dubbed Death Eater Malfoy. Then there was... Other Malfoy. The one who had asked her to dance, the one who had spared her from having to dissect a million dead toads in detention. The one who had...tried to warn her?
It didn't make any sense. Why had he told her anything about a weapon in the first place? Being drunk wasn't an excuse. It had been too purposeful, like he had baited her into a position where he could tell her and then run away right after. If he hadn't told her, she never would have been in the library to overhear him to begin with, though there was no way for him to know that. Was he hoping Harry would start looking for this weapon? He would never have been able to tell Harry directly - there was too much history there. Maybe she had just been a convenient messenger?
"Hey," Kathleen said, nudging her under the table with her foot. "Are you ok? You seem really spacey."
Ginny shook her head, determined to put Malfoy and his many faces out of her mind. "Sorry. Just... thinking about the other day still."
Kathleen smiled sympathetically. "Any word from Harry?"
"No, but I should have known better than to expect anything," Ginny said before taking a bite of peas. "He's taking Professor Dumbledore at his word, for once."
"What about the elves?" Kathleen asked, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Anything?"
"Not that I've heard, no," Ginny said. Kathleen took a sip of pumpkin juice, looking pensive.
"You know," she said slowly, "we do have more to go off of than we did before. If we wanted to keep up our...investigation."
I look forward to hearing what you learn in your investigation, Auror Weasley.
"Our what?" Ginny asked, startled.
"Our investigation," Kathleen repeated. "You know...looking into things. What else would you call it?"
"Oh," Ginny said. "I don't know, I guess. Not that."
Kathleen raised an eyebrow at her, making Ginny flush. "Okay then. Our...research?"
"Research is fine."
Kathleen looked at her curiously for a moment longer before nodding. "Our research, then. I know Harry said to leave it alone, but what does poking around the library hurt? I would hate for us to give up now that we finally have a lead."
What does it hurt? A lot, apparently.
Ginny sighed. "You're right, as usual. I can't get it out of my head."
"Neither can I," Kathleen said.
The girls stood up to head back to their common room. Ginny hazarded a glance at the Slytherin table and, like clockwork, made eye contact with Malfoy. He smirked at her while he said something to Crabbe. She glared at him before turning resolutely around and walking out of the Great Hall.
"Worst case scenario," Kathleen said as she linked arms with Ginny, "is we don't find anything, and we're in the same point as we are now. If we do find something, either it's something Dumbledore already knows and it doesn't matter, or he doesn't know and we've saved the day. There's no downside."
And on the off chance that Malfoy DID intend for me to warn Harry...maybe this is the next best thing.
"Are you free tomorrow after Charms? We could go to the library then?"
"Definitely."
February gave way to March, and with it came the first true signs of spring. The Black Lake was a lake once again rather than a giant ice rink, and signs of wildlife stirring were everywhere. Ginny smiled as she made her way inside from Care of Magical Creatures, listening to the birds singing in the trees. The cool breeze carried the faintest scent of flowers, promising that fairer days were just around the corner.
"I love springtime," she said happily to Kathleen. "Everything is fresh and new and beautiful."
"Not me," Kathleen said with a sniffle. "My nose would be happy if I never came near a plant again."
Ginny laughed. "I told you to get some Pepperup Potion!"
"It only works on colds," Kathleen said, pulling out a handkerchief for her nose. "My allergies are out of luck."
"A horrible oversight that St. Mungo's must rectify immediately."
"Honestly, they would probably make a fortune," Kathleen said with a chuckle. "And not just from me!"
Ginny pulled off her scarf as they entered the castle, her mind already bouncing ahead to their destination.
"I think we've just about exhausted everything, but we should double check," she said, her feet routing an automatic course toward the library.
"Sounds good," Kathleen said, rubbing her nose with her handkerchief. "The last book I was using had an index, I'm going to check that against the books we've already looked at and see if we missed anything."
They hurried to the library, quieting their steps as they opened the doors in order to avoid Madam Pince's ire. The ancient hinges creaked, announcing their arrival. Madam Pince, however, was occupied scolding another student, a little first year who looked properly terrified of the woman.
"Let's stay well away from that," Ginny whispered, edging into the library and heading for her preferred study table. It was near a window, where the late afternoon sunlight was streaming in beautifully. She dropped her bookbag down in the seat next to her and pulled out her parchment in order to review her notes.
This search for information on the Deathstick had started to feel like a rather boring scavenger hunt, a race she was always just behind in. When she and Kathleen had first asked Madam Pince for any books on the Deathstick, the librarian had looked down her hooked nose at them suspiciously and told them all of the books had already been checked out. Knowing Malfoy must have had them, Ginny had been irate, with Kathleen quickly covering up her anger by explaining to Madam Pince that they needed the books for an assignment.
They had had to wait over a week for the first book to be returned, and they were slowly being returned one at a time - apparently as Malfoy worked through them. It was maddening, knowing that whatever they found out, he would have found first. Ginny had even started theorizing about how to break into the Slytherin common room and steal the books back, but luckily Kathleen had dissuaded her from that moment of impulsivity. As far as they could tell, Malfoy had no idea that anyone other than Blaise Zabini knew anything about the Deathstick, and it was in their best interest to keep it that way.
"Ok," she murmured to herself as Kathleen started flipping to the back of a book. "Where did I leave off?"
She had been able to confirm that the Deathstick was indeed the name of a famous wand, just as Malfoy had said, and while she wasn't sure it could be considered "unbeatable," it had certainly wreaked a fair amount of havoc. It had been owned by a wizard called Loxias in the eighteenth century, who - again, like Malfoy had said - had made so many enemies that over a dozen people had claimed to have been the one to kill him, including his own mother. This era also included a rise in anti-Muggleborn sentiment, and several of Loxias's attacks had targeted Muggleborns. Between the old-fashioned text and the age of the document, it was hard to tell what was truth and what was added to make a good story, but if the texts were to be believed, Loxias had killed over 400 Muggles in one particularly vicious attack in southern Scotland. Ginny couldn't quite imagine a 400 versus 1 battle, Muggles or not, but perhaps it was feats like this that had inspired the stories behind the wand.
Investigating the dozen possible murderers had taken more than two weeks, all for it to come to nothing. None of the people who claimed to have killed Loxias had gone on to do a lick of anything else interesting, before or since. Arcus and Livius were the only two to even be mentioned anywhere outside of Loxias, and that was only because one of them invented a Hair Growth Potion and the other donated a lot of money to St. Mungo's. Not exactly "unbeatable wand" worthy.
Having grown frustrated at that point, Ginny had decided to go backwards in history instead - had Loxias gotten the Deathstick from an Ollivander ancestor? As it turned out, he had actually stolen the wand. He had taken the Deathstick, previously called the "Eldrun Wand," from an equally horrible wizard named Barnabas Deverill. While Loxias's crimes had been primarily perpetrated against other humans, Deverill had used destructive magic against all kinds of creatures, from goblins to giants. One goblin village had been entirely massacred by Deverill, and multiple historians noted that it was only the quick thinking of the Wizengamot that had avoided an all-out war over the matter.
The wand certainly had a talent for murder, that was obvious. What was so special about it wasn't particularly clear, but given that two different wizards had wielded it to equally devastating results, Ginny was inclined to believe it was the wand rather than the wizard that was special. She was currently stumped on where Deverill had gotten the wand. The histories made no mention of it, so she supposed it must have been purchased from Ollivander's, as had been common in Britain for centuries. If she could somehow get to Diagon Alley, she could ask the living Ollivander about it, but she couldn't see any way to get there before the school year ended. Maybe an owl? But how would she explain this in an owl, particularly when the Ministry was monitoring correspondence?
"Hey, I think I found something," Kathleen said. Ginny had been so lost in thought that she hadn't noticed Kathleen leave the table, but she was in the process of sitting back down now.
"Oh yeah?" Ginny asked. "Something in that index you mentioned?"
"Yeah. I almost didn't find it at first. Look at this." She slid a dusty, ancient-looking tome across the table to Ginny. The title was written in Ancient Runes, but above it was the symbol of a wand shooting stars into the sky.
"I couldn't find it because the title isn't in English," Kathleen said. "But I'm almost certain this is it - can you translate the title to be sure?"
Ginny pulled out her Ancient Runes textbook and turned her parchment over to give her a new page to write on. The runes weren't Elder Futhark, which she had the most experience with, but instead appeared to be an Anglo-Saxon variant that Professor Babbling had only touched on a handful of times.
"It'll take me a minute," she told Kathleen as she started translating the first letter.
"Take your time," Kathleen said. "I'll keep reading."
Ten minutes later, Ginny had translated the title and double-checked the translation. She was gobsmacked.
"Feats of Glory: A True Account of Loxias and the Deathstick," she said. "Kathleen, I think this might be Loxias's journal! There's no author listed." She flipped open the book to look at the library's list of students who had checked this book out before, and was elated to find that Malfoy's name wasn't on it.
"Look!" she said, pointing to the list. "Malfoy didn't take Ancient Runes. I bet he passed right over this book."
"That's amazing, Ginny!" Kathleen said. "You know what that means, right? We might have a lead that he doesn't."
"That's exactly what it means," Ginny said happily. "Let me go check this book out."
"Here, let me do it," Kathleen said, sliding the book away from Ginny. "In case Malfoy does go looking for it at some point. We don't want your name connected to it when he knows you know about a weapon."
Ginny frowned. "Hmm. Fair point, I suppose. But I'm the one who has to translate it."
"You can hold onto it, we're just covering our tracks." Kathleen stood up, book in hand, and walked away toward Madam Pince's desk. Ginny watched for a moment before turning back to the parchment.
She couldn't believe her luck - Malfoy had checked out every book that even mentioned Loxias or the Deathstick and had held onto them for weeks, but he had managed to miss one. Finally, things might be turning around. Translating the book would take a long time, but hopefully the information she was looking for was near the beginning...
Draco laid in bed, focusing on his breathing. It was late, late enough that Goyle was snoring loudly away on the opposite side of the room. After six years, Draco thought he should be used to Goyle snoring by now, but it was just as irritating as it had been his first night at Hogwarts.
Soon enough I won't be sharing a dorm ever again, he thought, a dull ache in his stomach. Kathleen had given Ginny the book today; the last big part of his plan was in motion. There was no more scheming to be done, no more meetings to coordinate. He would need to alter some star charts when the time came, but the Room would help him with that, just as it had with the book.
Fabricating an entire historical text hadn't been easy, but luckily the Room had filled in most of the gaps. Draco had provided the Room with instructions for what the book should say, along with what language it should be written in, and the Room had done the rest. Its magic was truly remarkable - Potter hadn't used it to its fullest potential at all.
But then, when has Potter ever seen things for their true potential?
His mind drifted to Ginny, as it so often did this late at night. What could she be thinking? He knew that she was confused about his motives, had even tossed around the idea that he could be covertly trying to warn the Order. He snorted. Ginny would describe herself as pessimistic, but that was the most optimistic take he had ever heard. No, he was no aspiring member to Dumbledore's Army. It was sweet of her, really, to try to see the best in him - but she was mistaken. To side with the Order would be to side against the Malfoy family and every value he had ever been taught to hold dear. It was an impossibility.
"Are you awake?" Blaise whispered.
"Yes," Draco responded. "What are you still doing up?"
"Just thinking," Blaise said.
"About what?"
"How this is all going to play out."
That makes two of us.
"I'll take her memories of you once it's time. You don't need to worry."
"You're sure about letting her go afterward? She's a sweet little thing, would be a shame to waste."
Draco cringed. "Yes, I'm sure. Don't be gross."
"I didn't mean it like that, arsehole. But you can't lie - you've grown to like her over the past few months. She's sweet."
"Which is why I'm letting her go. She's a means to an end, that's it. She doesn't need to get mixed up with this permanently."
"Isn't that the goal though? For everyone to get mixed up with this permanently?"
Silence. Then, "I suppose so."
"Safer, really, to keep her under your thumb."
"I think I'm going to have my hands full as far as that's concerned."
Blaise laughed, loudly enough that Crabbe grunted in his sleep.
"I keep forgetting," Blaise said. "That will be entertaining to see."
"What do you mean, entertaining?" Draco snapped.
"Oh come off it. What are you hoping for? Oh thank you so much Malfoy for saving my life, what ever would I do without you?"
"Fuck off, Zabini."
More laughter, quieter this time.
"I just hope you know what you're doing."
"Exactly what you said. Saving her life."
"Don't think she'll see it that way."
"She doesn't have to. The outcome will be the same regardless of how she sees it."
"What if-"
"The Dark Lord keeps his promises, Zabini."
"Didn't you say that Snape-"
"That was Snape's fault for wasting his request on a stupid Mudblood," Draco said with a sneer. "My father told me all about it. Ridiculous. This is different."
"Right."
"If you don't want to help me anymore, just say so. I don't need your criticism."
"I didn't say anything of the sort. Just looking out for your best interests."
"You have a funny way of showing it."
Silence. It was quiet long enough that Draco was sure Blaise had fallen asleep, but then he spoke.
"I know I joke around a lot, but let me say this with complete sincerity: I am in your corner, Draco. I know we haven't always been close, but like I told you in the fall - I know you. Both the face you show the world and the one you have when you think no one's looking. So just know this: if there ever comes a time where you need help, or you're in trouble, I will do what I can to help you. Whether that's during this school year or beyond it, whatever may come."
Whatever may come. Draco's stomach tightened.
"Thanks, Blaise," he said, speaking aloud what he could only say in the dark. Come daylight, they would both act like this conversation had never happened. But they would remember.
Draco turned over in bed, turning his back to Blaise's bed, and let his mind wander to a cloudy day at the beach in Hampshire.
It wouldn't be long now.
Ginny sat cross-legged in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, her tongue poking out a bit in her concentration. This translation work was devilishly tricky. Some of the letters were faded, making it difficult to discern whether the rune listed was eh or mon or even daeg. She had to continuously remind herself that this was a different runic alphabet than she was used to, to not automatically assume that the letters meant the same thing in this dialect.
Harry sat in one of the armchairs near her, his Potions book open in front of him as he took notes. Ron and Hermione were in Hogsmeade for an off-site Apparition lesson, but Harry was too young to go.
Ginny scowled as she realized the word she was currently translating was Mudblood.
This book is vile. I hope I'm not wasting my time. There better be something here other than this stupid man going on and on about blood purity.
She sighed, putting her quill down in order to stretch her wrist. She had been working on the book for almost two weeks now and had yet to find anything useful. Maybe Malfoy hadn't checked this book out because he knew there was nothing important in it to begin with... But given the relative non-information she had gleaned from every other book she had read thus far, she thought that was unlikely. If Malfoy's only source of information was the books she had read, he was no better off now than he had been before he had cornered Zabini in the library.
She glanced sidelong at Harry as she stretched. His brow was furrowed as he worked, scribbling away on a sheet of parchment. Things were better between them, sort of. They could at least be in the same room together without wanting to run away immediately from awkwardness or embarrassment. Harry had done as she expected but not as she hoped in that he hadn't brought Malfoy up again after their breakfast conversation, but it didn't bother her as much as it might have a couple months ago. Lydia had been consoling Jessica after a heartbreaking break-up with Phillip and she had said something that had stuck with Ginny: when someone shows you who they are, believe them. Harry either could not or would not give Ginny what she wanted, and it didn't do her any good to wish it was different. She could either accept things as they were, or cut Harry out of her life. The thought of doing that was unbearable, so she had made a tenuous kind of peace with their current loose friendship. It wasn't what she wanted, but it would have to do.
"Hey, did I tell you I ran into Tonks earlier today?" Harry said, looking up from his parchment.
"No," Ginny said. "She was here?"
"Yeah, she was stationed in Hogsmeade but I guess she was up here to visit Dumbledore. She looks...different."
"Different how?"
"Sadder, I guess," Harry said. "Like all the color's gone out of her life."
Ginny frowned. She hadn't seen Tonks in ages, not since the summer. But even then, she had been different than she had been before the battle at the Department of Mysteries. Her hair had changed from its vibrant violet to a mousy brown, and her usual cheerful demeanor had been muted. Ginny had hoped that over time, Tonks would adjust, but it sounded like she was just as sad now as she had been right after the battle.
"I hope she isn't working too hard," Ginny said. "I know there's a war on, but I'm worried about her."
"Me too. You don't think she could have been...in love with Sirius, do you?"
Ginny blinked. "In love with Sirius?"
"Well, yeah. I mean after he died, she's really been struggling. And her Patronus did change to a big four-legged thing. It could have been a dog."
"Maybe," Ginny said. "I never thought about that. Aren't they cousins?"
"One generation off, but yeah," Harry said. "But that's not all that unusual among pure-bloods, is it?"
"Usually not quite that close, unless they're a blood supremacist," Ginny replied. "Both Mum and Dad have Black family ancestors, but not from the same lines."
"Hmm," Harry said noncommittally. "It's still possible."
"I suppose."
They worked in amicable silence for a little while before Ginny said, "Speaking of possibilities. What do you think the odds are that Ron will ask Hermione out soon?"
Harry laughed. "If it's up to Ron to take the initiative? Not likely. The only girl he's ever tried to make a move on is Fleur, and I think it traumatized him."
They shared a giggle.
"Yeah, I guess Lavender did all the work for him in that regard," Ginny said.
"Yep. And I got him his Yule Ball date with Padma."
"You should encourage him."
"You think so?"
"Yeah - Hermione's been waiting, but she won't wait forever. He's gonna be kicking himself if she starts dating someone else."
"Who else would she date?" Harry asked, mystified.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I don't know, Harry, I don't think she has her eye on anyone else at the moment. But she's brilliant, and pretty - Ron and McLaggen can't be the only blokes to have noticed."
Harry frowned like this was new information to him. "She wouldn't say yes to someone else, would she?"
"If she thinks Ron is a lost cause, she might!" Ginny said, and she suddenly felt like maybe they weren't talking about Ron and Hermione at all. The air grew thick with the tension of things left unspoken as she and Harry made eye contact. His eyes were warm, like a familiar sweater she wanted to sink into. Not at all like a certain other pair of eyes. No, those eyes were ones she could drown in.
"Should we...talk about things?" Harry said awkwardly, a faint blush rising to his cheeks.
"No," Ginny said, looking back down at her translation. "There's nothing to talk about that hasn't already been said."
"I told you I was sorry-"
"I know. I told you I forgive you. There's nothing more to be said."
They sat in much less companionable silence now. Ginny resolutely resumed work on her translation, directing all of her anger toward Loxias and his bigotry.
"Are you thinking about dating someone else?"
"No," Ginny snapped. "Not that that's any of your business, anyway."
"Because if you are, I'd just like a heads up-"
"I said no, Harry."
"Alright."
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Ginny said, "I meant what I said about Ron and Hermione. Talk to him, yeah?"
"Yeah, alright. I will."
Draco loosened his collar as he hurried out of the Room of Hidden Things, his hands shaking enough that he had trouble with the top button. His quick footsteps echoed loudly in the empty corridor, in time with his racing heart.
It's not working, it's not working, it's not working-
The Cabinet wasn't working. He had cleared most of the blockage, but moving the last bit was like trying to move a mountain. No matter how much energy he expended, the channel between the two pieces stayed resolutely closed.
It was nearly the end of April. Ginny would be finished translating Loxias's fake journal any day now, and the Cabinet had to be ready by then, because if it wasn't...
His breaths started coming faster now, quick gasps that didn't seem to let any air in at all. He needed water. He needed the sea.
He stopped walking and leaned his right arm up against the wall, resting his head on it, trying to calm down.
The waves crash ever on and on, but beneath, the sea is calm. But the sea wasn't calm. It was a roiling tempest, sucking him down and down and down deep below, where he would never get out, never-
He kicked the wall in frustration and instantly regretted it as his foot sang with pain. The mental image of the sea wasn't enough. He needed to hear it, to feel it, let it drown out his racing thoughts and traitorous, fearful heart.
I need water. Where can I get water?
Remembering that there was a boys' bathroom on the floor below, he turned for the stairs, his vision blurry as tears started to form.
Stop it! He grabbed his arm tightly, hoping the pain would refocus his attention, but all it did was increase the sense of too muchness that was suffocating him. He just needed everything to stop.
He took the steps two at a time, his chest squeezing so tightly that the thought crossed his mind that he might genuinely be dying. He imagined himself collapsing on the stairs, his eyes cold and unseeing like Trelawney's. Who would find him? Would anyone even care, or would they say good riddance to Death Eater scum like him?
He stumbled on the last step, spinning his arms a bit to catch himself, before turning toward the bathroom. Black spots filled his vision, making him dizzy. He needed the sea.
The bathroom was mercifully empty. He walked to one of the sinks and turned the faucet all the way on before gripping the edges of the sink, his shoulders shaking. His breathing was still shallow, his hands shaking against the porcelain, but he forced himself to focus on the sound of the water flowing.
This doesn't sound like the sea.
A sob escaping his throat, he turned on every sink along the wall until the sound of running water echoed loudly off the ceramic walls.
His chest was still too tight. He angrily ripped off his robe and unbuttoned the next three buttons of his shirt.
It's not working. Nothing's working. I'm going to die.
"Boy," came a girl's voice. "Why are you crying?"
He whipped his head around and saw the ghost of Moaning Myrtle floating in one of the cubicles. She was watching him with something like compassion, very unlike her usual demeanor. He opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. Instead, he let out a choking gasp, which echoed horribly off of the walls.
"Don't," Myrtle crooned. "Don't... tell me what's wrong... I can help you..."
"No one can help me," Draco gasped, unsure if he was talking to Myrtle or himself. His whole body was shaking now. "I can't do it... I can't... It won't work... and unless I do it soon... he says he'll kill me..."
Draco took a deep, shuddering breath, his eyes on the water flowing out of the faucet, before looking up into the grimy mirror.
His heart stopped. Harry Potter was standing a few feet behind him, staring.
You. You ruin EVERYTHING.
Draco wheeled around, drawing his wand. Potter pulled out his own just as Draco aimed a hex at him, missing him by inches. It shattered the lamp on the wall instead. Potter threw himself sideways, his face twisting as he cast a nonverbal spell, but Draco blocked it with his own nonverbal Protego. He raised his wand to cast another spell, his mind blank with panic and rage-
"No! No! Stop it!" squealed Moaning Myrtle, her voice echoing loudly around the tiled room. "Stop! STOP!"
Draco fired off his hex, ignoring Myrtle, but he missed again; there was a loud bang and the bin behind Potter exploded. Potter fired off another curse but he missed as well - it hit the wall behind Draco's ear and smashed the cistern beneath Moaning Myrtle, who screamed loudly; water poured everywhere and Potter slipped as Draco, overcome entirely at this point, cried, "Cruci-"
"SECTUMSEMPRA!" bellowed Potter from the floor, waving his arm wildly.
Blood spurted from Draco's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. The pain didn't hit him at first - he was more shocked than anything. He staggered backward, dizziness overtaking him, and he dully realized that he was probably going to die. He collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.
"No-" gasped Harry.
What do you mean no? It was always going to end this way. One or the other of us was always going to end up dead. Isn't this what you wanted, deep down?
The pain was here now, so intense and sharp that Draco's vision turned white for a moment. He had never felt anything like this before, never-
Slipping and staggering, Harry got to his feet and plunged toward Draco. Draco's hands reached to unbutton his bloody shirt, trying to see the damage. What the hell had Potter done to him?
"No- I didn't-"
Potter was on his knees now, scrambling uselessly next to Draco.
Of course Potter's stupid morals wouldn't allow him to relish in this victory, Draco thought, feeling himself slipping away from consciousness. But we both know how you'll feel later, don't we?
Ginny's face flashed in his mind, of her smiling at him in detention despite herself, and he grimaced. What would happen to her if he died? Would the Dark Lord kill her after he was done? Would he even be able to get the Hallows? What if-
"MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"
The door banged open behind Potter. Draco didn't have the energy to look up, but in an instant Potter was pushed roughly aside and Snape filled his vision. He knelt over Draco, drew his wand, and traced it over the deep wounds Potter's curse had made, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like song. The flow of blood seemed to ease; Snape wiped the residue from Draco's face in an uncharacteristically gentle movement and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting.
Am I dying? he thought.
Not today, came Snape's reply through his fragile Occlumency shields.
Snape performed his counter-curse for the third time, and then he half-lifted Draco into a standing position. His legs felt like jelly, and his head ached terribly.
"You need the hospital wing. There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take dittany immediately we might avoid even that... Come..."
He supported Draco across the bathroom, turning at the door to say in a voice of cold fury, "And you, Potter... You wait here for me."
Draco stumbled against Snape as they left the bathroom, too tired and in pain to be embarrassed. Snape's arm was surprisingly strong underneath him and Draco leaned on his solidness.
"It's not working," he murmured, his tongue thick in his mouth.
"Shh," Snape said. "Save your strength."
"I can't do it," he moaned. "I can't, I can't... they're going to die... Mother and Father and Gi-"
"They're not going to die," Snape said, his voice sharp but firm. "They're not going to die. Let Madam Pomfrey take care of you - you are going to be fine, Draco. A few days in the Hospital Wing and it will be like this never happened."
But it did. Not only the attack, but everything before. He was falling apart, and he wasn't sure he was going to be able to put himself back together.
"Oh good heavens, what happened?" came Madam Pomfrey's voice as Draco lost consciousness at last.
Author's Note: There are some time skips in this chapter, so I just wanted to make it clear what the timeframes are: First scene occurs at the very end of February. Second scene and third scene occur mid March. Fourth scene is in early April. Fifth scene is at the end of April. The fifth scene is an adaptation of Chapter 24: Sectumsempra from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.
As we keep going, for any scenes that I think could possibly be triggering for some folks, I'll add a content warning at the top and indicate which scene the content is in, and provide a summary of the scene in the end notes for anyone who decides to skip the scene.
Fifth scene: Draco has a panic attack over not being able to clear the blockage in the Vanishing Cabinet. He tries to rely on his Occlumency with the image of the sea but the panic attack is too intense and overtakes him. He goes into a bathroom, and we have the Sectumsempra scene that happened in the book. Snape saves him and takes him to the Hospital Wing, assuring him that he isn't dying and that things will be fine.