Song Used : : " Understanding " by Evanescence
Author`s Note : : Well, ahaha . . . this took me a few days to write, but I`m finally done. Not really that great of a fic, but an AMV inspired me to write this ! Searching " KrazyMarry Understanding " on you tube would probably give you the video ; it's nine minutes long. A very, very good AMV, you should check it out ~ Mm, I recommend watching it before reading this fic-- and maybe listening to the song while reading this. Gives it the vibe, ya know ? Anywho, if you do manage to read it all the way through, thank you for reading ~ ! Oh and also ; underlined dialogue are lines that were spoken in the AMV.
Disclaimer : : I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own the video / lines that KrazyMarry made.
Warning Before Reading : : Major angst ; suicide - - character`s death. Slightly OOC. A few curse words here and there. Constant change of third person point of views.
- - -
" You hold the answers deep within your own mind. Consciously, you've forgotten it. That's the way the human mind works. Whenever something is too unpleasant, too shameful for us to entertain, we reject it. We erase it from our memories, but the imprint is always there. "
"Potter!"
With the brief, sudden pounding of his chest and his strong will to fight against the quenching of his stomach, Harry turned. A familiar sight filled his gaze. A sight that made his mouth dry. He swallowed-- hard. " What do you want, Malfoy ? " he asked, trying to sound as casual and bitter as he could.
His eyes dawned down on the image of the Slytherin`s trademark smirk. "I can`t believe it!" the blonde exclaimed, acting surprised. "You`re in love with me?" The crowd around the Slytherin Prince fell over with laughter.
Harry stared, frozen stiff in his sitting position. His breath, which he seemed to regain slightly during the small moment of time, hitched and stopped flowing through. His heart pounded harder, seeming to want to burst out of his chest. His hand quivered, his eyes down casting from the face of the opposing male.
"******** you, Malfoy!" He heard Ron spat. During the words, he felt a hand grasp his shoulder and turn him away from the Slytherin table, where laughs still irrupted loudly.
" Can't wash it all away . . . "
His hands clamped together, nails digging into his palm flesh. His teeth grinded against each other, tightening the pain that immediately washed over him from the sounds of the taunt.
"Just ignore him, Harry," he heard Hermione whisper forcefully under her breath.
He couldn`t. His heart clenched, squeezing, his breath caught once more.
"Yeah, mate. Forget the bloody git. He`s not worth your time."
" Can't wish it all away . . . "
No, he can not forget the git. He tried before, many times before, but he couldn`t. Malfoy was there, sticking to his mind as if he was glued there. Everything came with the thought. The smirk, the words, the dreaded taunts . . . Harry wished they would all disappear, that Malfoy would leave him alone, but he wouldn`t.
" Can't hope it all away . . . "
Harry stood, irrupting the whispering conversation that flowed back and forth between his two best of friends. They ceased in talking and gazed up at him. Before giving them a chance to utter a word, he stepped out of the seating area and quickly walked from the Great Hall, his head dropped low.
Behind him, he could hear a voice among the rest of laughs and exclamations-- "Where are you going, Potter? I haven`t gotten my kiss yet!"
" Can't cry it all away . . . "
His gaze blurred, water filling his eyes. He couldn`t hold them back. They spilled without mercy, running down his cheek before dripping towards the ground. Both of his clenched hands tightened more. He sped up his walking, making it throughout the weaving students with luck that no one stopped him.
Moments later, he found himself in front of the picture frame that contained an empty background.
With no other choice, Harry curled himself into a ball and rested against the nearest wall, his head buried in between his knees, his hands hanging around his legs that were brought up to his chest.
" The pain that grips you, the fear that binds you releases life in me in our mutual shame we idolize . . . "
Draco Malfoy . . . how did the bloke even find out ? The only people he spoke the situation with was Hermione and Ron. They couldn`t have . . . they wouldn`t . . . someone must have overheard.
"Dammit!"
Ripping off his rounded glasses, Harry flung them across the hall, not caring much if they were to be broken by someone`s foot. He could care less about his sights now.
His heart burned, clenching more. The pain was unbelievable . . . worse than Voldemort`s touch . . . far much worse than what he suffered from before.
"Harry!"
He heard sets of running footsteps coming into a halt beside him. He dared not look up to show his weakened side.
"Harry, oh, Harry!" the voice frantically cried and he felt himself being embraced by warm arms.
His head lifted slightly, looking through the curls of Hermione`s hair, watching a sadden Ron.
"Come on, Harry, let`s get you into the common room-- oh, where is she?!"
"I`ll be right back," he heard Ron whisper before the racket of footsteps fading sounded.
"Shh, Harry." Hermione folded herself next to him, rocking him in her arms, giving carefully chosen words that meant absolutely nothing to him. ( "It`ll be alright." "Forget him." "He`s a git." "We`ll always be there for you, Harry." )
"No," he droned, looking up at the fuzzed image of the ceiling. "I can`t get him out of my mind!"
This time, she said nothing but continued to rock him.
Unknowning time ticked by, but finally, Ron returned. By now, the tears that dripped from Harry`s eyes dried and no longer escaped.
"Oh dear. What`s wrong?" The woman at the portrait was back.
"Doesn`t pertain to you. Finger Knits," Ron responded.
The frame swung open, allowing the three Gryffindors to scramble inside.
Hermione managed to help him into a couch, where he laid, head tilted back so his views could be settled on the ceiling instead of his friends.
"Merlin, I hate that git!"
"I hate him too, Ron. He knows that Harry is in love with him, and he makes fun of him ! I just wish he would leave Harry alone for once! Especially since--"
"Guys," Harry turned his attention back on his friends, sliding out to the end of the chair, "I-- I think I`m going to get some rest . . ."
Hermione and Ron did not respond as he thought they would. They simply nodded in approval.
Standing from the couch, he edged towards the dorms. "Th . . . Thanks, Ron, Hermione," he replied hesitantly before scrambling up to his four - poster bed.
He shut out all the noise that bothered with him and tattered with his thoughts.
He shouldn`t have said anything. Even though Hermione and Ron were his best friends . . . he risked the chance of getting the information over heard . . . and overheard it was.
He couldn`t stand it. Every sickening emotion. Every occuring thought. Every breath taken.
His hands tackled the pillow he slept on, grabbing it with much force, straining for his anger to be relieved. Tears threatened his gaze once more. He did not bother to stop them now. They flowed out onto his pillow, wetting it. His eyes closed in attempt to pause the salty rain in its tracks. It didn`t stop.
Harry laid still, listening to the pattering raindrops that drummed at the windows.
He loved him. Even through every cracks of taunts and embarrassment, he loved him. He couldn`t let go. He held the other by a string. Now, he was at the string`s end. He desperately clung, trying to hold on tighter. In the end, the string lost grip and broke in half. He could feel it. It snapped recently . . . Recently when he was confronted with the subject that Malfoy knew of his feelings.
Oh, why was his sights still blurry . . . ?
- - -
" To blind them from the truth that finds a way from who we are. Please don't be afraid when the darkness fades away. "
"Nice job, Malfoy!" A few Slytherins that passed, whom examined what had happened earlier, patted the prefect on the shoulder. While as Gryffindors and fellow people on the opposing side gave him nasty glares and comments such as "Stop joking with him, Malfoy!" Draco just sneered at them, perhaps retorting back a comment before ignoring them completely.
"Malfoy, Malfoy! See what I got here." A plump first year Slytherin clobbered up to the prefect, holding out what seemed to be glasses.
Draco quirked and eyebrow and took the pair, examining it closely. Harry Potter`s. "Where did you get this?" he questioned huskily, silver eyes flickering from the item to the first year. "Near the opening of Gryffindor`s dorms, sir," the other replied. Draco`s almost awed expression broke into a smirk. "Very good, Rudel. Twenty points for Slytherin." The plump Slytherin returned the smug look and scurried off.
Gazing to his left and right, Draco slid the eyeglasses into the pocket of his robes.
Along with the rest of the uprising Slytherins, Draco returned towards their common room. Instead of the crowd usually dispersing at the inner opening for their beds, they lingered around the seating around, making Draco the center of attention.
"Really, I had no idea Potter was gay!"
Draco rested himself in a seat, propping his feet up on the coffee table, a smirk riding his lips. "He never told anyone," he lifted an eyebrow and wriggled it in the direction of Pansy Parkinson, who stood across the room from him, arms folded across her chest, leaning back against the wall with an equally Slytherin - like smirk plastered on her lips. "Until now."
The common room broke into laughter.
"Clearly, we thought he was head over heels for the Weasley!" A fifth year Slytherin exclaimed.
"Which one?" A sixth year, across the floor, shouted back.
This brought the common room into a container full of laughter once more.
"Didn`t he kiss Chang from Ravenclaw a couple of years back?"
"Yeah, but I suppose that was a cover up for his sexuality now!"
Draco nearly jolted from his chair, which this course of action made attention turn towards him. The moment he realized that he did that, he settled back into the chair and waved the thought off. "Feh. He must`ve snogged Diggory in the maze. No wonder Diggory came out dead!"
The two single lines snagged the thought of Draco`s sudden jolting away and turned the room upside down, all chatters being on the subject of Harry bloody Potter snogging Cedric Diggory in the maze. They forgot much of that Draco was there and that he was supposed to be the center of attention, not Potter and Diggory.
And yet, he felt an odd pang in his heart. A jerk whenever the name of Potter came up with "Chang" or "Diggory" tailing behind it.
He fingered the edges of the sleeves of his Slytherin robes, his eyes pressed deep within the black fabric, frowning. What was the odd feeling ? Even through the snogging joke he made a few moments back, somewhere-- an emotion showed itself-- an emotion that hated the thought of Harry Potter snogging others . . .
He felt a hand squeezing his shoulder, distracting him from his thoughts. "What," he spat.
The hand retracted immediately. "You seem down, suddenly, Draco. Something wrong?"
Draco snorted at the words. "Never mind you, Pansy." He kept his gaze down at the hem of his robes.
The hand found its way back to his body, this time laying on his knee cap. "You can tell me anything, Draco."
He gazed up, meeting the stiff eyes of the female Slytherin. "Mind your own business, Pansy," he seethed, knocking her hand away and standing up. This apparently caused attraction to the scenery. Conversations ceased at once as they all turned to the pair.
"Draco . . ."
"Shut up, Pansy! Stop blabbing and prying into what`s not your business!"
She looked as if she were to cry. "I . . . I was only trying to--"
"Stop trying, you ruthless--"
"You like him, don`t you?" She was in tears.
" The dawn will break the silence. "
Draco iced at the question, eyes burned through the feminine body that stood not too far.
"Do you ?!" she demanded.
The common room was completely silent, every gaze settled on him, awaiting an answer.
His mouth opened, having words choked up at the back of his throat to sputter at the other as a response. Nothing came out when he tried to retort the words. He immediately clamped his mouth shut and returned to glaring at the female.
Pansy sniffed, raising a sleeve of her robes to wipe away her fallen tears. "You . . . You do like him, don`t you, Draco? That`s why you keep teasing him. That`s why . . ."
"Shut up!" he bellowed, unplanned. Jumping from his seat, Draco could care less that he knocked over the coffee table.
She looked taken a back. "You endlessly tease Potter so that he would push you away-- so he could touch you, isn`t it Draco?! Is that true?"
"NO! Of course not!"
"Then, why are you raising your voice?! Why are you angry?! Tell me, Draco! Tell us!" she gestured at the peering eyes of the fellow Slytherin members.
"Why would I have feelings for that git? I`m straight," his gaze fixed into a glare, "you should know that the best, Parkinson. Now stop sticking your nose in my business," he leered closer, narrowing his eyes at the feminine prefect. Then, within a breath, he snorted, turned, and stalked off towards his four - poster bed.
Of course he was straight. There was no turning point in which he would make himself fond of the Boy Who Lived. Especially the Boy Who Lived.
" Screaming in our hearts. "
He slammed the door closed, a sign in which told others that he did not want to be bothered. Turning towards his bed, Draco found a comfortable spot on the edge and sat, his right hand running to his chest, clutching his robes in the spot where his heart hid behind.
What was the odd clenching of his heart back when Diggory and Chang`s names were mentioned in relationship with the bloody Potter ? The last time he checked, he did not have heart problems. Then, what was the cause ?
- - -
" My love for you still grows. This I do for you before I try to fight the truth my final time. "
The next morning, Harry awoke. It finally dawned upon his that he flung his glasses across the hall yesterday. It wasn`t there that morning. Thanks to Hermione, who casted a short spell on his eyes to make his sights clearer, he was able to see-- but not before she started to scold him. ( "Really, you should take care of--" Ron managed to cut her off there. )
Harry tailed the other two, his eyes focused on the ground rather than ahead. His thoughts still whirled about what happened yesterday. The single, fleeting thought still continued to force his heart to race faster and faster--
"Hey, hey, there`s Potter!" A student shouted.
Harry immediately wanted to duck and cover himself from the crowd. Luckily for him, Ron and Hermione loitered around his area.
"Ignore them, Harry," Ron grumbled, taking Harry`s shoulder and spinning him to look in the direction of the Great Hall rather than the group of crowding Slytherins in the background.
"Let me handle this," Harry muttered, turning around to face the laughter.
"No, Harry. Let`s go," Hermione urged.
Harry tilted his head in her direction. "No, I`m settling this, Hermione. You two can go on." Without further word, he stepped away from the two and took a few paces towards the grouping.
Malfoy was at the lead, looking perfectly stunning as always-- Harry shook the thought from his mind and stepped forward. The Slytherin Prince appeared to stop as well, a smug look on his face. "We need to talk, Malfoy." A simple request-- plain as day, and yet dry as a desert. Harry tried to keep his face straight while saying this. He ignored the fact that Hermione was probably glaring into his back for him to not do this and to come back to her and Ron-- as well as his pounding heart at the single, breath - taking sight of the blonde.
Malfoy smirked. "About what, dear?" The Slytherin followers bellowed with laughter.
Harry could have sworn his heart had fluttered-- even though he knew that the git was simply joking . . . "That`s enough, Malfoy," he responded, keeping his gaze locked firm.
The opposing male trotted closer, looking amused than ever. "What`s wrong, Potter? Can you wait until tonight to talk, or can you not live without telling me now? Well, in that case, why are you still here?" An uproar of shrill giggles followed the words.
Harry watched as a hand extended and grasped his chin. Seconds later, a face drew near. "Of course! I`ve forgotten that I was your first love!" The hand jerked away along with the face.
Harry bit his bottom lip, flushing slightly, not wanting to say anything that would possibly offend-- wait, he wanted to offend the other-- to ward Malfoy off so he would stop bugging him for the truth. He didn`t have the heart to do so, though.
"Shall I give you flowers, darling?"
That did it.
Reacting on his emotions alone, Harry did not hesitate to take a step forward and shove the Slytherin prefect into the crowd that tailed behind him. "Shut up, Malfoy! You will never understand it, you idiot."
A hand wrapped itself around his forearm. Hermione pulled him away, leading him off. Harry, almost unwilling, turned and headed the direction the hand was taking him. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Hermione turn back and said "scum" loathingly before escorting them both into the Great Hall.
Ron sat behind untouched food. Harry sat down on his left while Hermione took his other side. They didn`t speak, nor for the first time, touched their food.
" We're supposed to try and be real. And I feel alone, and we're not together. And that is real. "
Why did it hurt ? So much . . . ? Not only was his heart burning-- aching for an answer, yearning for the touch of the one he was suffering silently for . . .
Ron and Hermione seemed to be suffering too.
His sights blurred again.
"Harry, oh, Harry!" Hermione whispered, wrapping her arms around him once more. Ron patted his shoulder. "Hang on there, mate."
Even with their embraces, Harry couldn`t feel them properly. It was as if they were just mere images of those he wished to be there for him. He felt empty. He felt alone. This was his reality. Only in his fantasies did Draco Malfoy ever cared and laugh with him. Only in his fantasies.
- - -
" Can't wash it all away. Can't wish it all away. Can't cry it all away. Can't scratch it all away "
"Professor!" Clutching a piece of parchment in his hand, Harry scrambled up to the feminine teacher. "Professor McGonagall!"
"What is it, Potter?"
"Would it . . . would it be possible that you can withdraw me from Hogwarts?"
"Withdraw you?" The professor appeared shocked. "Is there a reason why?"
"It`s-- It`s just a feeling . . ."
"Harry, I don`t know why you want to withdraw yourself from Hogwarts, but it will probably have to wait. Perhaps later." With that, she scurried off, leaving Harry half - turned in the direction she headed.
With a sigh, he awkwardly headed back towards Ron and Hermione whom stood from a distance, observing.
"What did she say?" Ron questioned.
Harry heaved a sigh and shoved the piece of parchment into his pockets. "She said . . . she said ' perhaps later '."
Hermione bounded up and embraced him again. "I`m so sorry, Harry," she cried, digging her head into his shoulder, "I`m so sorry . . ."
Ron wrapped his arms around him as well, placing his head down on Harry`s shoulder. "Sorry, mate."
Harry dipped his head down as well, droplets of salty liquid forming in his eyes and dripping into the fallen snow.
- - -
" Lying beside you, listening to you breathe. The life that flows inside of you burns inside of me. "
Harry laid awake, gazing at the curtains of his four - poster. The sound of snorts echoed around him, telling him that those within the room were asleep. His gaze fixed on the clock that read for the time of six.
Six in the morning. He was awake all night. Thinking . . . thinking about him. Every thought that tingled him about Draco Malfoy made his heart flutter. It was strange . . . how one man could make him into a bundle of tearing and suffering. How one man can force him to become the way he was. How one man can have so much affect and impact on him . . . How one man can simply tear him apart with simple, intriguing words.
His hands gripped into clenched fists once more.
He hated it. Hated the feeling. He couldn`t take it anymore.
Flinging off his blankets, Harry stepped onto the cold floors. Kneeling down next to where he stuffed his invisibility cloak, he was more than hesitant to cover himself with it. The touch of the silky fabric melted under his touch-- sending odd shivers down his spine.
He moved, nonetheless. Escaping from the snoring students and the Gryffindor`s dorms itself, Harry ushered silently out of the school`s doors.
His toes immediately froze at the single touch of the snow that littered the ground. He ignored it and forced himself forward. The cold was nothing to suffer from. It did not even hurt him, unlike words spoken . . . true words spoken. Gratefully, ungratefully-- Draco Malfoy was only teasing him. He was just taunting . . . not serious. Malfoy was blind. He could not truly see the affection-- the fleeting thought of how he felt ? Of course not. He was Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy`s eternal enemy.
But he always thought . . . maybe there was a light in the Slytherin`s heart. Somewhere deep inside the icy glaciers-- just somewhere, there would be a warm fire. A soft spot . . .
He was wrong. Draco Malfoy did not have a light. His heart was completely iced over. He did not care about those around him. He did not care for anything. The only thing he cared is being on top-- the first, the best.
He did not care for Harry at all. Harry bloody Potter.
Harry crawled onto a rather large rock and sat down. His arms embraced his drawn up legs once more.
He wanted to crack the Slytherin Prince open . . . to find out the git`s true self. It appeared to him that the only true self of Draco Malfoy is the one he sees everyday.
Then why-- why was he still trying so hard ?
" Hold and speak to me of love without a sound. Tell me you will live through this and I will die for you. "
It was just Draco Malfoy. The idiot. The git. The-- the one he fell for.
Harry lowered his chin to his knees, eyes emitted to the snow on the rock he sat on.
Why couldn`t the idiot understand his feelings ? Had he no mind ? No human heart to love . . . ? Harry wanted to kick something-- Malfoy in particular.
' Why ? ' was the question.
"Dammit," Harry muttered under his breath, feeling the tears sting his eyes once more.
Why did he even care ? It was Draco Malfoy he was thinking about-- why the bloody git of all people ? The one he loathed for years on was the one . . . he subsequently fallen for.
Why ?
Why Draco Malfoy of all people ?
Tears pelted onto the pearl white snow, melting in.
Why did he care ?
Why . . . ?
"Hermione, no!"
Harry did not bother to move nor remove his invisibility cloak. He heard footsteps draw near-- then stop abruptly. Something grabbed the middle of his cloak, pulling it over his head, uncovering him.
Harry caught sight of Hermione, looking rather worried-- and Ron not too far back, appearing gray as well.
"Harry . . ." she placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "Harry, why are you crying?"
Harry grinded his teeth together, his hands clenching. "It was a big mistake," he grumbled.. "I hate myself for this . . . but it doesn`t stop! I - I can`t even look at him in the eye anymore!" His head raised slightly to face his best friend. "I feel embarrassed, Hermione!"
She didn`t speak, but resorted to hugging him again, joined also by Ron. "You still have us, mate," Ron spoke. Harry closed his eyes and attempted to relax-- but the feeling could not and would not go away . . . No matter how much he wanted to wave them off-- they would not budge. They were there to stay.
"I can`t . . . I can`t do this anymore, Hermione . . . Ron . . . I just . . . can`t."
"Times are tough . . . you`ll get through this, mate."
If only what Ron spoke was true. Only Harry knew the truth . . . he wouldn`t be able to get through it. The imprint would always be there . . .
- - -
" Cast me not away, say you'll be with me for I know I cannot bear it all alone. "
His breath came in short huffs. His hand shook from writing on the piece of parchment. They also shook violently as he placed it down on the coffee table.
Picking up his invisibility cloak, he hurried out of the dorms, flinging the cloak over his body.
The hallways were empty-- as it should be, considering the time was three in the morning. The place was dark-- not an ounce of light flickered.
He hurried through, ignoring the fact that he just whisked by Mrs. Norris and probably have her on his tail at the moment.
He dared not look back-- looking back would only make him regret the decision he was going to make.
After few moments of scrambling down a blank hall, he approached his destination-- the Room of Requirements.
Hastily, he did not waste time to evaporate himself into the clear room. His eyes fluttered close, imaging what he needed-- his eyes flickered open, revealing a rather cozy bedroom.
A single bed was placed at the center of the floor, a coffee table beside it with a single mug.
Almost hesitantly, Harry paced over, dragging off his invisibility cloak and letting it slither to the ground in the process.
His fingers wrapped around the handle of the cup, bringing it off the table.
He swiftly clobbered onto the bed and sat. Emerald eyes dawned upon the dark brown colored substance that the mug held.
He drew out a slow breath, in attempt to calm his heart beat. "This is the only way to end my pain," he muttered to himself, lifting the cup to his lips. "I won`t regret it . . ." His lips parted slightly, allowing the liquid to drain itself from the container into his mouth and down his throat.
His lungs immediately drowned in what felt like icy waters. His body became stiff. His eyes rolled back into their sockets. He fell onto the bed, the mug rolling from his grasp and tumbling off the bed to crash upon the ground.
Slowly, ever so slowly, he summoned the small ounce of energy left to close his eyelids.
He knew this was the proper way to go . . . only this could relieve him from the pain he suffered from. Only this . . .
" You're not alone, honey. Never . . . Never. "
It was the only thing he could resort to ; not Hermione nor Ron could help him. If he were to blame, it would be the Slytherin Ice Prince`s fault . . . And yet . . . he still loved Draco Malfoy.
- - -
" It just won't fade away. No, no, no, no. "
"Hermione ! Hermione!" A voice shouted, hushed, as the door of the girl`s side flew open.
"Ron, what is it? It`s seven in the morning! The students are still asleep," Hermione snapped in response, glaring from her four - poster bed. "Besides, what are you doing in the girl`s dormitories?"
"Harry . . . Harry-- he - he`s not in bed," Ron puffed, "I - I couldn`t find him anywhere, Hermione. He`s gone off again."
"No, no, no," she muttered to herself, scrambling from bed and slipping into her slippers. "Let`s go." She gave a curt nod and followed him out. It did not matter now that they were both in pajamas-- they needed to find their best friend`s location. That was more important.
"Wait, Hermione, what`s that?"
The two paused in their tracks. Hermione gazed in the direction Ron had pointed her out to. Without word, she headed over and picked up the stray piece of parchment. She strangled out a gasp at the familiar writing of two words-- ' I`m sorry. '
With that, she threw herself into Ron`s arms, not caring for a thing that someone might appear seconds later. Tears streamed from her eyes. "Ron . . . Harry . . . Harry . . . he must have ran away--"
The door of the Gryffindor`s house flung open, revealing no one other than Professor McGonagall.
Hermione lifted her head and drew away from Ron`s embrace immediately. Raising her sleeve, she cleared the tears away. "Is . . . Is there a problem, Professor?"
"I believe so. Follow me."
Almost reluctantly, the pair followed.
None of them spoke as the professor lead them through familiar corridors-- until they crossed paths with the Room of Requirements.
"What . . ." Hermione began, but tailed the teacher in at once she had beckoned, Ron trailing up quickly behind her.
In the room, a few teachers scattered in a circle around something.
"Clear," Professor McGonagall commanded ; the other professors revolved themselves from the circle. Appearing from the shuffles of feet that scrambled away, Hermione saw-- Ron saw-- a body . . . a lifeless, unmoving body.
"Oh, Harry!" Hermione screamed, rushing to his side, Ron right behind her.
"We found him only an hour ago," Professor McGonagall spoke in a slight hoarse voice, "we searched for a pulse . . . but we couldn`t find one."
The tears would not stop, Hermione laid her head on the chest of her best friend, trying to not believe what the professor had said. There wasn`t a heartbeat.
She felt Ron`s arms embrace her, a hand patting her mid - back. She did not wave them off as she usually did to public display of affection.
"We`re truly sorry," another professor spoke up.
Hermione could care less. She sobbed, clutching the shirt that was worn by Harry during this event. Her tears dwelled and wetted the clothing . . . she could care less of that as well.
- - -
" It just won't fade away. No, no, no, no. "
She was in fury. Of all things Harry-- Harry could have came to her, even if it were in the middle of the night ! She-- he-- why did he-- ?
Her hands clutched her wand as she stormed off from many hours of sitting in the common room, thinking. Ron stayed behind and mourned with the rest of those whom knew Harry well. The news was out as quick as a flash-- everyone in the Gryffindor House knew.
Her eyes flashed angrily as she glanced around. It wasn`t before she pinpointed her target-- Malfoy.
Hurrying across the hall, Hermione did not hesitate to point her wand at the neck of the Slytherin male. "I will never forget you. You . . . You killed him !" she jabbed her wand at his neck.
Malfoy squirmed, looking terrified as he was being threatened by Hermione Granger. "I don`t know what you`re talking about!" he wheezed.
She glared at him, but nonetheless lowered her wand slowly until it reached her side. For a moment, she turned, wanting to run away, but instead, another idea pounded her thoughts-- an action she had performed years back--
Clutching her hand into a fist, she reverted her steps and punched the male in the face again. "Don`t say you don`t have anything to do with it!" she screamed, tears falling from her eyes again-- she couldn`t hold them back. They spilled without mercy.
Turning away, she fled-- through the corridors, swishing past students without a single pause to say ' excuse me '-- she couldn`t care for that now. All she needed . . . all she wanted was to get back to her four - poster-- to Ron . . .
- - -
" Can't wash it all away, can't wish it all away, can't cry it all away, can't scratch it all away. "
"I can`t believe Potter committed suicide," Draco sneered, tilting his own chin up slightly.
Crabbe nodded slightly. Goyle snorted.
With a huff, Draco turned and headed back towards the Slytherin dormitories, his two followers tailing behind him. The common room was quiet when they arrived ; a few Slytherins loitered around, appearing to be snickering about the new gossip that Harry bloody Potter committed suicide.
Draco ignored them and took a seat by the fireplace, his silver hues grazing over the licking flames.
What was the bloody idiot thinking . . . ? Committing suicide ? Over what ? He never did understand how Potter felt. Potter was different than most others he`ve met. Not many people stood up to him, Draco Malfoy . . . Potter had the courage to do so . . .
And now he was gone.
What was this emotion he`s now feeling . . . ? It felt as if he was torn in half. His heart ached for some odd reason. Why . . . ?
"Draco, baby, what`s wrong?"
At first, he thought he imagined the voice. A few moments later, he realized that it was Pansy`s voice. He cleared his throat. "Nothing . . . nothing. Mind your own business, Pansy."
"You know, you`ve been distant lately." She sat down across from him. "But mostly today . . . have you heard ? Harry Potter committed suicide!"
He noted that she was rather happy, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she spoke of the news. Draco glared. "Shut up, Pansy," he snapped. Scrambling to his feet, without casting a sneer back, he pushed his way through to his four - poster bed, slamming the door behind him so that no one else could disturb his thoughts.
He neared his bed and kicked the side of it, not caring for that it was property of Hogwarts.
His hands clutched his the side of his robes, his teeth grinding together.
What was this feeling that he felt ? Why was he reacting as this when it was only Harry Potter that committed suicide ? Why did he even care ?
His hand caressed something-- an object.
Half - conscious of what it was, Draco reached into his robe pockets, taking out what appeared to be eyeglasses . . . eyeglasses of Harry Potter. He never gave them back to him . . . he forgotten to the other day.
- - -
" But the imprint is always there. Nothing is ever really forgotten. "
"Today, we stand here in honor of one of our bravest students," Professor McGonagall spoke.
Students from the whole school-- even from other schools-- gathered in a circle upon one single grave, next to it-- a case, opened. Most cried on each other`s shoulders, few of the stronger ones stood in silence and watched solemnly. Draco Malfoy was one of those who stood without shedding a tear.
"Harry Potter."
The name was spoken.
Draco felt the familiar plunge of his heart, but he did not faze in his stance.
"We found him in the Room of Requirements at four in the morning. He did not have his wand. We assumed he had committed suicide for multiple of reasons we do not know of . . ."
Draco felt the Professor`s eyes settle on him, but he dare not look. Instead, he dropped his gaze at the tombstone which emitted the carved words of ' Harry James Potter, July 31, 1980 - December 24, 1997, Our Savior, May You Rest In Peace '.
"But we gather here today to honor and mourn for once yet another terrible death of one of our greatest wizards of time. Please bow your heads."
At once, a wave of heads bowed.
"May you rest in peace, Harry Potter."
Heads uplifted.
Professor McGonagall stepped aside, allowing a line of students that were close to Harry Potter, and she chose it by whom Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley picked, to speak a few words.
Hermione Granger herself was first in line.
Dressed in the appropriate and yet familiar periwinkle dress, she stepped forward, a folded cloak in her hands. Draco knew from the looks of her, that she had been crying-- but at this time, she dried them.
He watched as she stepped up to the grave and placed the cloak on the mounted dirt.
" Because I`m dying too. "
"Harry . . . Harry, I remembered the first time we met. I didn`t think much of you . . . but-- but now, you`re my best friend . . . you, Ron, and I share a bond. The bond still holds, Harry. We miss you. I miss you. Why . . ." she broke into tears. A redhead trotted up to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. The Weasley.
Ron started to speak. "You know that we would be there for you . . . why did you do it . . . ?" he heaved a sighed and hugged the girl closer. "We`ll miss you mate . . . you bring us joy even at the saddest of times . . . we`ll never forget what you`ve done for us." With that, the pair gave a final gaze at their best friend`s body before being moved off from the grave site, Hermione sobbing into the man`s shoulder.
" Because I`m dying too. "
Another Weasley-- Ginny-- the Weaslette, approached. Her eyes stained red from crying. She knelt down next to the grave, placing down what appeared to be a rose. "Harry . . . we haven`t spoken that much, I understand. You`ve been busy, but . . ." Tears streamed down her face, Draco couldn`t help but feel sorry for the girl as well as the other two from before. "Harry, I just-- I just-- I`m sorry! I`m sorry that we couldn`t have the relationship you had in mind-- I`m sorry . . ." She drew up and ran away.
" Because I`m dying too. "
Another pair strolled up. Dean and Seamus. In their hands were a quill and a long rolled up piece of parchment.
In reality, Draco would have quirked his eyebrow and sneered at the odd gifts, but at the time, he did not have the heart to.
"Rest in peace, mate," they both said in unison, placing the writing utensils down. "We`ll miss you," Dean grumbled and warded off, Seamus tailing close behind.
A group of graduated students appeared next. A petite female, a part - veela if he remembered correctly-- Fleur Delacour ; hooked to her arms-- Bill Weasley. George Weasley, alongside Angelina Johnson tailed next. Percy Weasley with the company of Oliver Wood brought up the end of the group. Fleur took a step ahead and laid a bouquet of white roses next to the single red one that the Weaslette placed down.
"Thank you for saving my sister, Harry," she whispered. "A wonderful friend, though we haven`t spoken much," Bill Weasley commented, moving aside with Fleur to make room for the others.
"Fred and I`ll miss you. Well, Fred couldn`t really make it here, but ahaha . . ." he warded off. "Great member of the Quidditch team, Harry Potter . . . without you, we couldn`t have won." Angelina commented and was dragged aside so that the final two could stroll up.
"A good student . . . and a excellent friend," Percy bit out. "Excellent Quidditch player indeed . . . we`ll all miss you, Harry." Oliver finished.
" Because I`m dying too. "
As the final group removed themselves from the spotlight, a familiar raven - haired female trotted up. Her eyes were rather red and puffed from crying as well. Behind her, a familiar dazed blonde female whisked by, placing down what appears to be a book. "Harry Potter . . ." she, Luna Lovegood, said dreamily. ". . . Who to know that I will see this day . . ." She turned to Cho Chang, who couldn`t say anything, and lead her off from the scenery.
A plug boy appeared next-- Neville Longbottom. Placing down a Remembrall, he spoke the mere words of "May you rest in peace, Harry" and left rather quickly-- to cry, Draco assumed.
Next, Hagrid, rather tall and still scrunchy, took up the line, blowing his nose into a tissue. He placed down the wand that once belonged to Harry Potter, before beginning to speak. "Harry . . . Harry, you were such a great friend. A great, excellent companion. I can`t believe you . . . you . . ." He broke down. A few moments later, Professor McGonagall arrived and escorted him out.
The crowd remained silent.
After what felt like eternity, the professor spoke once more. "Is there anyone else that wishes to leave a . . . departing message?"
A few offered their hands in the air.
Without thought, or much word, Draco found his feet and strolled up, away from the crowd. The hands that mingled in the air immediately fell down.
He dare not face the Professor, to see her reactions, but from the sound of silence, he knew he was permitted.
Instead of walking to the grave and placing down his ' gift ' as the other did from before, Draco paced towards the coffin and peered down.
Harry Potter appeared to be peacefully sleeping-- though he was not moving.
" Because I`m dying too. "
Barely, Draco moved his lips to speak. "Potter, you forgot this." Drawing out the glasses from his suit - pants pocket, he carefully slipped them properly onto the calm face. He exhaled and continued speaking. "You`re a bloody git, Potter. Who can understand you? You didn`t tell me. You made me find out on my own . . ." He stared at the smooth, beautiful face. "You don`t deserve to know now . . . but . . ." Tears clogged his sights, though he forced it back. "What good would it be if I were to tell you now? You can`t hear me . . ."
He gripped the edge of the coffin, gulping down the lump that formed in his throat. "Harry Potter . . . our savior," Draco chuckled lightly. "And to see that our savior has committed suicide . . . you`re really a git, Potter." The grin that graced his lips for the time being dispersed. "You`re unbelievable . . ." Consciously, he reached out a hand and swept the locks that covered the scar on the forehead. "Sometimes you surprise me . . . no, you always surprise me." A light sigh escaped from his mouth. "It wouldn`t really matter now . . . not at all. But . . . I want to thank you . . . for all that you did."
His eyes fluttered close, inhaling sharply in order to obtain his cool appearance once more. Moments later, he regained his sights. "May you rest in peace, Potter." Without much thought, he dipped his head down in order to place a small peck on the forehead of the boy who . . . committed suicide.
- - -
"What`s wrong, Draco?" Pansy. Again.
She reached out a hand and squeezed his shoulder.
Draco did not budge.
"He`s gone, Draco. You won`t see him again . . . try to cheer up. It`s been a week, for Merlin`s sake, Draco! Why are you still mourning?"
Draco tilted his head up slightly, watching the flickering fire of the fireplace in the common room. In a whispered voice, he answered, "because I`m dying too . . ."
