A Dagger Named Draco

Part 3:

The next day, I woke up sore all over and extremely happy. I was keen to see Ron's face and hoping to hear a happy, "Good Morning!" Perhaps, he would be in the mood for a quick one before Potions. I rolled over, sure that he would still be there.

He was not, though. There was a crumpled piece of paper I seemed to have laid on during the night.

I recognized Ron's untidy scrawl immediately. It read:

Harry,

I would rather die than to not love you, but after thinking about Malfoy and Percy and my family, I figured that there is no other way. So I choose to follow my brother. Know that I loved you until my last breath, for any longer would not be fair to you nor I, nor my family, nor anyone else (though I know Dumbledore found it greatly amusing). Do not bother coming after me, because I will be long gone when you find me. Please tell my mother that I could not choose, and that were she to force me, I would die of sadness. Either way, this was the outcome. I love you,

-Ron

I folded the note neatly, refusing to believe its contents. Ron was playing some kind of sick joke. I knew it. Ron would not do what he was insinuating he was going to do--kill himself. He could not. He simply must not, for my sake, especially after our reconciliation last night.

I got out of bed quickly and looked around for some faces that might know what was going on. The dorm was deserted, so I bolted down the stairs with the note in hand, pulling on a shirt and pants. I saw Hermione at the bottom of the stair, holding her hand over her mouth, tears streaming soundlessly down her face. She was speechless. My eyes widened with horror as she led me into the common room. There was a small pool of blood a few steps from the portrait, and a path of little droplets were branching from it.

"Did you follow it?" I asked Hermione frantically, grabbing her hand. "Please tell me that it's not him."

"I didn't follow it," she said quietly, "but someone else did,"

"Who?" I asked, but Hermione just pointed in the direction of the portrait. I walked out and opened the door only to find the absolute last person I wanted to see in the entire world.

"What the hell are you doing around here, Malfoy?" I spat at him.

"I've come to tell you that Ron is trying to kill himself," he said calmly, "with a knife he stole from me."

I immediately shoved him up against the wall, causing him to shriek in surprise, along with Hermione. My teeth were gritted and fists clenched around his shoulders. "Malfoy, if you don't tell me where he is, I swear to you that I will kill you right here, with my bare hands."

After the initial shock of being completely taken by surprise, his eyes went back to normal, and he spoke coolly, though not sneeringly, "You know the place where he is well, Potter, and if you aren't nice to me, I will not tell you anything else, so unless you mean to handle me that harshly in a different way, please get your hands off of me."

I let go of him, reluctantly, feeling no sort of love or even lust for him, but still, I did not completely hate him. "Where is he, then?"

"Exactly where we were last night," he said through the corner of his lips, trying not to let Hermione overhear, "up in the old Tower."

"And you said he was trying to kill himself?" I asked.

"Yes," he said in a nonchalant fashion. "He was, you know, all hacking at his wrists and stuff, crying bloody murder, carving a few simple runes into his arms and whatnot. Naked, too. I am not surprised you went for a guy like him, Potter. You do not have bad taste, after all. I never would have thought of Weasley like-"

SMACK! Not for the first time in her life, Hermione slapped Malfoy full on in the face. "You sadistic pig!" she screamed. "I swear, if Harry didn't make me promise not to kill you...."

"Come on, Hermione!" I said, ending her rant and grabbing her hand. "We need to find Ron, and fast!" We began to run, following the trail of Ron's blood. Draco apparently followed us, because when we got to the door of the Tower, he was right beside me.

"Draco, get out of here," I said. "Do you really think you are helping by coming along?"

"Yes, I really do think I am," he said snottily. "He has the door locked 10 different times."

"Anyone can unlock a door, Malfoy," said Hermione smartly, pulling out her wand.

"Not if the locks are of dark origin, Princess Know-It-All," he said, mocking her tone of voice. "When Ron locked this door, he activated the spell I put on it last night. A good girl like you wouldn't know the spell."

Hermione stayed silent and scowling as Draco showed her up, muttering an incantation of some sort, and as the last lock unlatched, I bolted into that room without even looking. The moment I saw my poor friend's mangled body, my strength immediately dwindled. I dragged myself as fast as I could over to his side, kneeling in a pool of his own blood.

"Ron?" I called. "Ron, you have to answer! Come on!" I shook him frantically, and he let out a yowl of pain.

"Thank goodness!" I said. "You're still here. You are still hanging on!"

"Damn it," he said with a smile, "I can't seem to do anything right these days."

"Don't joke like that," I told him. "We're going to get you out of here, get you to St. Mungo's, and then you'll be back like nothing ever happened."

"Harry, that's the problem right there," said Ron, coughing up a glut of blood. "It already happened. Draco and you... Percy... my family finding out... about it all... Harry, we could not go on, and really, I meant what I said. I c-c-can't not love you, but I can't leave my family, and they are ready to disown me... cause of you and me, you know, being together and all... If I can't have you, and I can't have my family, then what else can I have. I cannot choose between that, Harry. Cannot t do it."

"But your family will learn, with time!" I said loudly. "I know it is not what they are used to, but they will accept it. Percy... well, he was troubled. He had been troubled for a long time, and Draco and I... we were just a fluke!"

"No, you weren't," said Ron, to my disbelief. "You two need to stick together. You'll be happier, and so will he, if you love him as you would've loved me." At this, Ron retched blood once again. His eyes began to flutter shut.

"I don't care about that, Ron," I pleaded. "Oh, God, Ron, hang on! I mean it! Do it for me, the one you used to know as a best friend. Or Hermione... do it for her, if you won't for me! She cares so much about you."

"She'll understand," he said very slowly, "i-i-if she cares like you say she does." His eyes began to close.

"No!" I whispered. Now, I was at a loss of what to do. Blood was flowing from him every which way. I tore off strips of my shirt to try and help the blood clot, but he groaned each time I tried to wrap them around one of the wounds. I could not bear to hear him lament his pain like that.

"Please, if you let me go, I'll be better," he said, weakly smiling, "and you will be someday, too. We'll all be together again, so don't worry."

I didn't know what to say. "I...I love you." Yes, that seemed the only right thing I could possibly say.

"I know you do, and I love you," he said, blood flowing out of the corners of his mouth. "K-k-kept my word. I will love you until I die. Oh, and give this back to Draco." His other hand feebly fumbled around with a dagger, made of silver, no doubt. "See, I called him Draco. Isn't that nice?"

I nodded my head, taking the dagger away from him, realizing he was losing it. I noticed that with the amount of blood about the room, there was no way human, or even wizard, that I could save him, at this point. I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He smiled very, very weakly.

"Oh, Harry!" he exclaimed suddenly. "Percy was right! The letter... it is coming home! Just like coming home..."

And as his eyes closed, his expression became very peaceful, and that subtle smile stayed on his face. He let out his last breath and was no more. I felt his hand go limp, and then, I placed it atop his sunken stomach.

As I got up, my pants soaking with his blood, I turned to see if Hermione and Draco had left yet. They had not, and Hermione was, surprisingly, clinging to Draco, sobbing silently. Draco looked as if he were in very awkward position, indeed. I took out the knife in front of him and examined it. Inscribed on the blade was his name, 'Draco', in the tiniest of tiny letters.

"This is yours, I guess," I said, handing him the blade. He, who was still holding poor Hermione, took it from me, wiped it, and pocketed it in his robes.

"Thanks," he said. It sounded really weird, a thank you coming from Malfoy. All the same, he did it. He then pulled Hermione off of him. "Why don't you go with Harry, now?"

Hermione nodded and went over to me with her head bowed. "Thank you for tolerating me."

Draco acknowledged her thanks, but did not respond with words. "Harry..." he said with a sigh.

"What?" I said sharply. I didn't mean to sound so short but couldn't really help it.

"You are going to blame me for this, right?" he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

My mind was elsewhere, however--most likely mingling with my poor Ron's soul, somewhere in the vicinity between here and purgatory. What he said did not hit me until seconds later, when he repeated himself.

"So, are you?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"Going to blame me?" he said softly. I would almost say his voice was gentle but knew better, since it was Draco.

"No, of course not," I said quickly. "That would be stupid, since the blame lies solely with me... or Percy... or his mum... or society..."

"I guess that we should to talk sometime. You have to understand that this will not be easy, if this ever works out. My father still thinks I'm on his side."

"That sometime we talk will have to be later," I said, half holding-half carrying Hermione. "I need to sort things out before I can think about another relationship, especially with you, after the things you said to me last night."

"For that, I am sorry," he said through gritted teeth. Ah, an apology is another thing that sounds foreign in a Malfoy's mouth. "I can understand if you don't want to try it. The only thing I know is that when this is all over, I can be here... for you. Otherwise, I can't justify the way I've been towards you in the past."

I was thinking of how he said the exact opposite words last night; I could still hear him saying them, and it burned me. I said nothing.

"If you don't want to give it a shot, I will understand," continued Draco. "But think of it--your Order could benefit too, you know? I could--" he dropped his voice significantly, "I could spy for you. I would be a great asset. I'll go through all of your loyalty tests and things, I really will. What is better is the fact that we won't be so stupid about everything--maybe we won't have to taunt each other anymore. But... I could understand if you don't want to. I promise, I won't sell you out to Voldemort if you refuse."

"Your promises don't seem to work out so well," I said somewhat angrily, looking him over. Yet, perhaps this offer was something to take into consideration. There was something in his resolute expression that was never there before. Perhaps it was the unconfident manner he held himself as opposed to his usual confident style, or maybe it was because his voice kept cracking, or maybe it was because his eyes were tearing up (and Malfoys NEVER cried). All in all, something told me he was being completely sincere.

"Well," I said, "there are such things as second chances, Draco."

"I didn't know that," said Draco. "I really wish I'd have known it."

We shook hands after that, not saying another word, and then parted ways. He went up to the Slytherin dormitories, perhaps to think or do a bit of studying. Hermione went up to Dumbledore's office, to tell about the incident. Me? I'm up to Gryffindor Tower to write the hardest letter I've ever had to write in my life-the death notice of Mrs. Weasley's youngest son.