Chapter 3: Pathetic
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is NOT mine.
Warning: Suicide scene (In Draco's POV)
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Draco
I played with the knife in my hands, watching as it glided gracefully over my thumb, watching as a thin trail of red seeped out after it. Would it not be funny if Draco Malfoy, the great, rich and wonderful pureblooded wizard, killed himself with muggle means? I chuckled dryly to myself, ignoring the stinging in my finger. Now if I could only have enough courage to follow through with it. But, bloody Slytherin that I was, I could not seem to do it.
I flung the bloodied knife away from me in anger, choking down tears of desperation. I couldn't do it. I couldn't not do it.
The door opened and someone stepped in, narrowly avoiding the flying knife.
Blaise looked at me, shock written all over his face.
"What?" I drawled lazily. "Too chicken to face a bloody knife?"
Blaise ran over to me and shook my shoulders, hard. "Damn, Draco, what the hell were you thinking!?"
"That hurts, mate. Let me go." I said, feeling a bit light-headed. "I'm tired."
Too tired to live. I thought inwardly. Too tired to try fixing things when all I know how to do anymore is destroying. Too tired to attend any more darned funerals of people I killed, knowing that it was my fault. My fault. My fault.
I heard Blaise shouting at me distantly from somewhere above me. "Draco! Come on, mate, I'm losing you! Episkey! Tergeo! Damn it, Draco!" He shook me harder, but I could barely hear him now. "I'm taking you to St. Mungo's."
I tried to tell him it was fine. I was fine. It was only a scratch. But my tongue had somehow lost its power of speech. I looked down, confused.
And I belatedly realized that I had slit my own wrist accidentally. That, and that I was sitting in a pool of my own blood.
And then everything disappeared. Peace. I thought. Peace at last.
Harry
I hurried off, praying that Ginny wouldn't see the unwilling blush creeping up my cheeks.
To be honest, I had liked Ginny for a long time. She was the smartest, strongest, bravest and most beautiful girl I had ever met. But I knew she would never like me. She had dated a lot of boys before, and what could I offer her that they couldn't?
I may be the Boy Who Lived, and I may have lots of fangirls, but every time one of them flirted with me, I could not bring myself to flirt back, or even to enjoy it. Because none of them were Ginny.
I know, I sound like the most terrible lovesick puppy the world has ever seen, but what can I say? Unrequited love hurts.
Ginny caught up to me. "Hey, where do you reckon Hermione will be?"
I immediately felt guilty for completely forgetting about our mission to find one of our best friends.
"She's probably in her room." I said uncomfortably.
"Hm..." Ginny mumbled noncommittally.
Suddenly, she grabbed onto my arm. My heart skipped a beat.
"Gin?" I asked, my voice hoarse.
"Ssh... Did you hear that?"
"What?" I said.
"She's in the living room."
Ginny let go of me and walked off. My heart stuttered again.
Boy, I had it bad.
Ginny
Why was Harry being so weird around me? Arghh...Boys are so confusing.
I was on the verge of tearing my hair out, really.
That was until I heard something from the living room.
I walked in.
And found Hermione sitting on the sofa, her brown eyes staring straight at me.
A/N: Thanks for reading :) Like and Comment, por favor? ;P
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