Suicide Part 1

A/N: This was swimming around in my head for quite awhile. I eventually woke up at 4 am one morning and wrote it done. Hopefully I’ve done the plot justice.

 

Many thanks must go to my lovely betas: Aisha and Nivi, especially for their moral support.

 

This is Pre-HBP, although it might contain some elements of it.

 

 

Suicide Part 1

 

The Great Hall was filled with its usual noise and clatter, the atmosphere relaxed and carefree. The exams were over, Gryffindor was winning the House Cup and Hermione was rumoured to become the Head Girl. Life for Ronald Weasley, 6th year prefect had never been better. He whispered something to Hermione Granger, who had accepted his undivided affection, causing her to blush and swat him on the arm, scolding him for being ‘indecent’ in public.

 

As Ron laughed and turned to speak to Harry about Quidditch, he caught sight of his arch-nemesis, Draco Malfoy, who was sitting on the other side of the Hall. Oddly enough, this time he wasn’t glaring at him but rather sneering.

 

Ron tried to shake off a small sense of unease; it was just Malfoy being Malfoy again. He tried to listen to Harry as he continued to talk about Quidditch.

 

Draco Malfoy smirked, surrounded by his peers at the Slytherin table, before returning to pick at his dinner. He had seen the unease in the Weasel’s eyes and revelled in his talent to make people feel uncomfortable.

 

He looked up again, only to see Professor Bill Weasley, the newest in a long line of Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers, frowning at him. He quickly looked down at his plate again. It was one thing to goad the Weasel, another thing to provoke a Professor, especially after what he walked in on last month.

 

Suddenly the doors of the Great Hall burst open allowing Professor Snape to hasten past the oak doors and directly up to the staff table. His face was an indifferent mask, but his jittery and almost running steps belied his tension.

 

Draco watched with a detached interest as the Potions Professor whispered hurriedly in the Headmaster’s ear. Everyone who was watching fell into a surprised silence as something akin to panic crossed the Headmaster’s face.

 

Professor Dumbledore stood abruptly, indicating to Professor McGonagall and Professor Weasley to follow him, before turning and rushing out of the Great Hall.

 

Harry Potter who was watching all this with dreaded apprehension, stood as if to follow the teachers, but McGonagall gave him a sharp, piercing look and said, “This does not concern you, Mr. Potter.”

She then gave Ron, who had stood up to follow his friend an unreadable look before continuing along.

 

Their abrupt departure sent the more notorious gossipers into action but slowly everyone settled down, as if sensing that something ominous was occurring.

 

When Draco saw ‘that slimy git Potter’ being reprimanded in front of the whole school, he had only allowed himself a small smirk, even though he was jumping for joy inside.

 

Draco frowned down at his plate, as if recalling an unpleasant memory. He contemplated in silence, ignoring his housemates gossiping, about what might have happened to send Dumbledore into panic mode. Surely nothing to do with You-Know-Who?

 

The Professors had returned, all of them wearing grim looks. Professor Weasley’s eyes were redrimmed and puffy from crying.

 

All the students were equally surprised to see Professor Snape looking shattered. What could have been so devastating as to have made the normally emotionless potions master unhappy? And was that a red nose?

 

The teachers slowly made their way towards the staff table, all of them taking a seat except Professor Dumbledore, who was standing with a sombre look on his face.

 

“I’m afraid I have some tragic news to deliver to you all,” he began, and then paused, as if he was choosing his words carefully. He started again.

 

“Many a tragedy has befallen Hogwarts since the day of its foundation, but it is a sad day indeed, when a person attempts to take their own life. Never before has a student tried to commit suicide inside the walls of this school, and I am devastated to inform that one of your peers have indeed gone down this tragic path.” He paused again, allowing the shocking news to register. The whole hall was ablaze, everyone sat in stupefied silence, with only one question on their minds: WHO?

 

Ron Weasley looked up at his brother’s blotchy face, ignoring Hermione’s dismayed gasp, and was slightly mystified as to why Bill would be reacting in such a way. Sure, he was a teacher and would probably have had contact with the student, but such an extreme effect was not – unless…

A sense of overwhelming dread filled him, as he glanced down the Gryffindor table, desperately searching for the one face that was not present.

 

“Oh no, oh Gods NO!” he thought frantically, looking back up to the devastated face of his brother. A part of his anxious mind registered the fact that Dumbledore was talking again.

 

“I am truly sorry to inform you that one among your peers has taken such a drastic step.” The Headmaster looked around at the shocked faces and decided to take the plunge.

 

“The body of Ginevra Molly Weasley was found this afternoon-” he was interrupted by the sound of shattering glass, followed by heartbroken sobs as a figure ran out of the Hall.

 

Professor Snape and Professor Weasley were up on their feet and giving chase even before they fully registered who it was: Draco Malfoy.

 

 

His sobs came in short rasps, his lungs desperately wheezing for air even as he rubbed furiously at his eyes, willing the tears to just go away.

 

He ran, gasping for breath, his shocked mind still in the process of denial. The teachers were wrong, they must have been. If he could just get her, he might still be able to save her. They couldn’t be sure she was dead; she couldn’t be, not with the key that hung around her neck.

 

He raced up the stairs, not even pausing when the stairway began to shift, jumping over thew idening gap between the top of the stairs and the landing. His feet followed a path well known, even though his mind was still numb with shock.

 

In his haste, he didn’t notice the two sets of running footsteps, desperately chasing after him.

 

 

 

“Merlin, he’s fast!” gasped Bill, leaning against the banister of the stairs, waiting for the stairway to swing around to the correct level again. Snape just sneered, which was surprising considering the situation.

 

“Do you have any idea where he is going?” Bill asked, pushing himself up on his feet again, as the landing came into view.

 

“I’ve got a fair idea,” Snape drawled, as they took off again, Snape leading this time. Their quarry was nowhere to be seen, but they followed with confidence, finally coming to a stop in front of Myrtle’s bathroom. Inside they could here the heart-wrenching sobs of the Slytherin Prefect.

 

The two professors looked at each other, one confused, the other’s eyes full of pity.

 

“By Gods, how did he know -?” Bill started whispering, before cutting himself off, noticing that Snape had already starting walking inside.

 

The sight that greeted them was ghastly, and even though Bill had seen it before, he let out a horrified gasp.

 

Snape stood dumbfounded in the middle of the girl’s bathroom entrance. There, crouching in the middle of the pool of blood belonging to Ginevra Weasley was the weeping form of young Malfoy. Poor Myrtle’s ghost was floating near the grieving boy, wringing her hands in panic.

 

Malfoy must have heard them come in, because the next coherent words out of his mouth were a question.

 

“Where is her body?”

 

 

Thanks again to my wonderful betas. I will probably continue, reviews or not, but feedback is always appreciated.

Suicide Part 2

“Where is her body?”

He could feel their shock filled eyes boring into his back, their minds working hurriedly to form an answer that would satisfy him in his unstable state.

He resisted the temptation to turn around and look at them. He wouldn’t, couldn’t allow them to see him in this state of weakness. They had already seen too much. He sucked in his breath, willing the tears to stop falling.

It was Bill who finally answered; with another question. A typical Weasley, he thought with a sneer.

“What are you doing here Malfoy?” Bill asked more harshly than he intended. He winced at the sharp look Snape gave him.

Yes, what indeed was he doing here, Draco thought almost idly as he finally got hold of his emotions. What the hell was he doing here, kneeling in the girl’s bathroom, drenched in Ginny’s blood? For that matter, why in the world was he crying, when he knew she wasn’t dead, knew logically, that she couldn’t die? Not with the key that hung around her neck.

His answer to Professor Weasley’s question was to stand up suddenly, slightly swaying on his feet. He turned around, the blank expression on his face masking his true emotions. He asked again, this time his voice icy and demanding.

“Where is the damn body?!”

Bill tried to suppress the thought that arose unbidden; he wasn’t facing a student anymore but a dangerous, slightly unhinged man. The Malfoy that now stood in front of him reminded him of his father, Lucius, the hardened criminal, heavily guarded at Azkaban.

“Why do you ask Mr. Malfoy?” Snape asked quietly, almost soothingly, as if he was talking to someone who was just a little hysterical, instead of the too calm figure of Draco Malfoy.

“Was there a necklace, anything, any type of jewellery hanging on her neck?” Draco asked in desperation, frustrated at the two men. Why weren’t they just answering his question?

As Snape opened his mouth to answer, Myrtle, who had been floating there, completely forgotten, said something.

“You mean this shiny thing?”

As Draco spun around and advanced towards the dark corner under the sinks indicated by Myrtle, he dimly heard her continue in her whiny voice.

“She took it off, right before she slit her wrists. She had stood there staring at it for such a long time that I wondered if she was ever going to go through with-”

A sharp piercing cry interrupted Myrtle’s gruesome recount of Ginny’s death. It had come from Draco, who had sunk to his knees, cradling the unknown object in his arms.

Astonished, at the sudden transformation from dangerous creature to boy, Bill silently walked towards the child, mentally reproaching himself for being over-dramatic.

Snape was faster. He reached down to touch the boy’s shoulder, only to freeze as he spoke again.

“She was haunted you know. By Tom Riddle. Ever since the Department of Mysteries incident, he used to haunt her, send her images, like he did with Potter. That’s why she used to come down to the potions lab,” Draco said in an odd voice, sounding distant to his own ears. He breathed in deeply, to stop himself talking as well as to keep the tears at bay.


Bill waited with baited breath, dreading yet also hoping the Slytherin would continue. When the silence stretched on and it became clear Draco wasn’t going to say anymore, Snape reached down and laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Come,” Snape, said gently, “You’re in shock. Let’s get you to the Hospital Wing”. He waited for Malfoy to rise, before leading him out of the blood filled girls bathroom, the hand still resting on his shoulder. It was surprisingly easy, considering this was the same disagreeable child that he taught in class.

Bill risked a glance at the young man’s face, and then wished he hadn’t. There was a blank look in the Slytherin’s eyes, as if he wasn’t really there. To distract himself from the hollow gaze and thinking about how his sister had the same look on her face when the found her lying on the stone floor of the bathroom surrounded her own blood, he looked down at the object lying in Malfoy’s hand.

It was a plain silver chain, nothing too spectacular or eye catching until one looked at the pendant. It was slim, a twisting piece of silver gold and emerald, and bore a striking resemblance to the Slytherin crest. With one significant difference. Instead of a snake or basilisk, this crest had a tree-like figure with what seemed like a blue-green trunk on it. The locket appeared to be alive, twisting and morphing, constantly changing and giving off a dazzling array of colours.

Bills vast knowledge of charmed items and other artefacts didn’t give him any sort of idea as to where this necklace could come from. Even if it was hidden away within the Malfoy lands, surely it would have been mentioned? Because to have a pendant made of living metal, metal that had raw magic and power of its own, was very rare indeed. And Bill had a niggling thought in the back of his mind that he had seen the tree-symbol somewhere before, relating to something very important. He glanced back up at Malfoy’s blank face, only to see an amused look on Snape’s face.

Cursing inwardly at the fact that he had been caught staring openly, Bill cleared his throat and turned his to focus on the corridor they were walking in, trying to ignore the smirk on Snape’s lips.
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When Draco awoke, it was to a sun filled room, the light blaring through the open window. Funny, when did I ever sleep with the curtains open?

Suddenly, he sat up, the horrible events of last night returning to his mind. The hope that it was just a nightmare did not last too long in his practical mind.

“Oh Gods!” he groaned, covering his face with his hands, wishing he were asleep again. There, at least, the image of a happy, laughing and alive Ginny might greet him.

A movement in the corner of his eye, alerted him to the fact that he might not be alone. He spun around, the sheets around his legs hampering his movement. No, it was just fluttering of a curtain, white and simple that hung around a bed, shielding it from the rest of the room. But why-?

He slowly got out of bed. Could it be? No, they wouldn’t leave a body just lying here would they?

Half dreading what he might find hidden behind the curtain, he cautiously walked over the bed. Heart in his mouth, he reached up to move the curtain aside.

He briefly glimpsed ruby red hair spread over pillows before a loud voice interrupted him.

“Mr. Malfoy! What are you doing over there?” Madam Promfrey demanded her voice particularly loud in the quiet of the Hospital Wing.

He jerked back from the enclosed bed, his heart thudding against his chest, sighing quietly in disappointment yet also very relieved. He didn’t think he could stand to see her cold, pale body against the crisp white sheets of the hospital bed. To know that the hand he was reaching out for would be cold and lifeless.

He walked over to where Madam Promfrey was standing, wondering distantly why he was feeling so calm about everything. Maybe I am still in shock? He sighed and allowed the nurse to hastily check him for any sign of an injury. When it was clear there wasn’t anything physically wrong with him, she sniffed disdainfully and said that if he was well enough to walk around, he might as well go back to his room.

The school nurse had always treated him scornfully, maybe because he was more often than not the cause of the injuries sustained by the students who came to the hospital wing.

As he donned his robes, which were lying on the chair beside the bed Really, when had he taken that off?, he suddenly remembered the necklace he had picked up from the bathroom floor the night before.

He frowned, reaching down to pat the hidden pocket in his robes. Yes, it was still there, though he didn’t remember putting it there. He resisted the urge to take it out and hold it, for though its feel would comfort him, he would forever remember how it looked against Ginny’s pale, freckled skin when she had first worn it.

He clenched his jaw, determined not to break down again in front of anyone else, he had done enough damage to his image.

Then he realised the absurdity of his last thought. Ginny was dead and he was worried about his image? Suddenly feeling he needed to hold on to something, or stiff drink, he exited the Hospital Wing.
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So, how did I go? I personally think I royally sucked and made Draco too indifferent but my betas have assured me that I’m just imagining things. Feedback would be lovely, but I have to warn you, the next chapter won’t be coming out as fast.