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.