Risen- Drarry COMPLETE

Chapter 14

—Draco POV—

Seeing the pain and destruction that my actions were leaving in their wake shook me to my core. One last look at Potter, his eyes piercing into mine across the Great hall- eyes full of hatred- it made me tip. I couldn't keep doing this. If the Dark Lord wants me dead for my failure, I'm doing it by my own hand.

Now.

My chest tightened, I couldn't breathe. I shot up from the Slytherin table, violently tearing my gaze from Potter's, running.

Entering the first bathroom available, I went straight towards the sinks, feeling my weight collapse on me, needing balance before my legs gave out from wobbling so.

Suddenly I felt as though I was suffocating. I knew a panic attack when I saw it, but this, this was different. There was no escape this time. I either die from the Dark Lord's hands, or my own.

I hastily removed my robes and my jumper, throwing it to the ground violently. I still felt like I couldn't breathe. Breathe. Breathe. My tie came off right after. I heaved and trembled as I choked back the overwhelming urge to cry. Crying is weak. My lip quivered, my eyes stung. I'm sorry mother, father... My hands moved to turn on the sink faucet and soon my face was being splashed with water. Get a hold of yourself and do it before it's too late.

My hairs stood on end as I reached into my bag and took out the glass shard I'd kept in there- large, sharp, precise. Perfect.

I rolled up my sleeves, bringing my hand, firmly gripping the glass, to my left arm.

"Don't," Moaning Myrtle interrupted my actions, making me drop the shard into the sink, which was filling with water. I cursed under my breath in noticing the small bleeding marks on my hand from holding the glass so firmly. Fresh wave of tears tried and failed to penetrate my eyes. "Don't... tell me what's wrong... I can help you..." she whined. I kept my head down, not looking at her.

"No one can help me," I admitted with a dejected tone. My whole body was shaking as I struggled to keep myself steady, clenching either side of the small sink until my hands lost feeling. "I can't do it... I can't... it won't work..." I didn't want to kill him.

"And unless I do it soon... he says he'll kill me..." why I was sharing my sins with Moaning Myrtle was the last thing on my mind.

I finally sobbed. Choking each one back violently, unsuccessfully. The weight of my actions, of people's expectations- too much, too much. I was hurting people. I was endangering lives. I hated myself. 

I looked up, choosing to face myself one last time before picking up the shard again.

Potter was standing right there. I turned on my heels, heart hammering mercilessly and painfully against my chest. He can't know.

I drew my wand in panic. Nobody can know I am weak. I am not perfect.

There were sounds. Struggling. Lights. Explosions.

Before I knew it, pain, everywhere, blood, warmth. I shakily felt as various wounds opened themselves, slicing into me deeply

Thank you.

"No- I didn't-" Potter collapsed onto his knees, finding my hands with his, trying to apply pressure to the largest wound, across my abdomen. I gaped, feeling the blood fill my lungs. I meekly turned my head over to him, gasping, struggling. The villain dies thanks to the hero. His eyes were grief stricken. His face was that of shock-horror.

"Murder! Murder in the bathroom!" Myrtles screams were clouded over, muffled by the pronounced beating of my heart, and the water filling my ears.

"Please don't die-" Potter stared at me. I could feel him shaking as he made futile efforts towards stopping the blood. I smiled.

In an instant, everything changed. Before I knew it, I was crouching over Harry's lifeless body. He was dead- dying. We weren't school boys anymore, we were adults. I was horrified. He cried. "I had to do it, Draco."

I shot up from the bed heaving, feeling the dry sweat that coated my body and my heart which successfully lodged itself in my throat. I swallowed, wiping dried tears from my face. I turned to my side to see Harry sleeping soundly beside me. I gulped down a breath of relief, properly unnerved by my nightmare.

It seems my dream had left me with leftover tremors and a faint feeling of detachment, as I was barely aware of the cold bedsheets that I moved out of the way. I need a walk.

Apparently I was running on automatic, and my body knew what I needed more than my mind, because the next thing I was fully aware of was the harsh winter air biting at my lungs as I took in large, full, slow breaths, holding a glass of water in one hand, which I was drinking.

I allowed myself to fully regain my bearings as my mind escaped the abysmal darkness it had been pulled into while I slept. At that moment, I was only aware of the millions of stars against a deep blue, cloudless sky, the wind effortlessly pushing past the thin cloth of my sleeping shirt, giving me goosebumps, the comfortable silence that engulfed the neighborhood.

Soon it became clear that I'd had enough of the frosty air, and shut the window, feeling the leftover chill in the drawing room as my my feet carried me mindlessly towards the piano. I sat on the bench.

Shaking hands hovered over ebony and ivory, finding their proper positions. Eyes closed, then, a chord- dark, low, and dramatic. I felt the vibrations shoot across my fingertips, up my arms, bringing the hairs on my arms to stand as goosebumps formed.

Moving up the keyboard, in a progression. My hands gently lifted themselves. I opened my  eyes, drawing in a breath, finding a new place on the keyboard.

The next chord was much more... gentle. delicate. My eyes fluttered closed again as I continued. The white soft petals of a daisy against a dark, stormy sky. Love, and pain... dancing in harmony.

Focus, dedication. Passion. The feeling of being freed from the unbearable pressure of a mountain on your chest.

The euphonic mantra began to develop an alluring current beneath its melody. A breeze caused the daisy to sway every which way. Together the notes portrayed happiness and hope through it's enthralling, intensifying pulses.

A pause. The wind stopped, the flower stilled. Mind floating weightlessly in space. The pastel splashes of the universe painting an eternal canvas.

A warm, tender hand placed itself on my right one. I slowly floated away from my trance, back down to earth. I allowed myself to lean into Harry. I heaved in a breath.

"The music was beautiful." He whispered. After a moment I chuckled.

"Did I wake you?"

"Not really; I woke up on my own. I came down here out of curiosity." He said. I moved my hand to intertwine our fingers. "Why did you wake up?" he asked curiously.

I blinked, remaining silent for a bit longer than expected. "Memories." I murmured. Then, a little louder: "I guess this is what Dr Gilroy meant by channeling your emotions." I chuckled again. "I just... needed a release, and I've been trying to pick up piano for about two months now... it helps to have played organ, but they're still wildly different."

Harry released my hand. I felt his come up to the nape of my neck, then up into my hair. Harry turned and placed a kiss on my head. "You're changing the subject."

"Duly noted." I felt our silence twist. It was no longer comfortable. I was doing it again. A sigh escaped my lips. "It was... the bathroom... sixth year... I don't really talk about it." I admitted.

He didn't answer me right away, as if he was analyzing what I'd told him. "...that's alright," he eventually said. "Thank you for telling me... we don't have to discuss it if you don't want." His tone showed slight discomfort, but I let out a relieved breath either way. "I-I didn't... mean to..." He began.

"I know. I remember. It's okay now though."