Watch Me Die

Watch Me Die

This is what she wants, she wants me to die, and she doesn't want to watch me dying...the Gryffindor thought, desperately searching the drawers of all the work tables in the common room.

But she hurt me so fucking much, I can't let that go unavenged...she let me think she had died, and suddenly she's back... 'Hey, aren't you glad to see that your best friend isn't dead? Aren't you glad?'

She moved onto the next work desk and yanked out its drawers. Her alleged best friend had left it in one of these...now where was it?

No, I'm not glad. You tried to kill yourself, only hours after we had promised each other we'd try our best to stick it out together, in the long run...I was your best friend, why did you do this to me? I don't care that your parents died in the war. Mine did too. And you know what else?

She paused in her thoughts as she threw the cushions off one of the couches. Nothing, she found, so she continued her train. You know what else? I lost family too, I lost my four older brothers, all but the one who wanted to help you too...I lost friends in the war too, and somewhere along the way I lost you, whether or not you're physically with us still. Well, you know what? You can watch me do it, and see how funny it is then.

"Where the fucking hell is that knife?" she exclaimed, then ducked and clamped a hand over her own mouth. Watch the volume level there, someone's gonna hear me. And she can't know until she's here, in this room, watching me...

She threw open a window, and though it was raining, the light from the faltering fire in the common room glinted off something silver on the windowsill. Her eyes lit up with a sense of dangerous excitement. There it is, grab it before it blows away...

She grabbed the silver, sharp-edged knife, all traces of her best friend's blood washed away in the rain. She pulled it in and let the gale wind blow in the heavy rain. She looked at the edge of the blade, and marveled insanely at its sharpness, its ability to end something as quickly as it almost ended her best friend's life. She remembered that night as clear as day...

"Hermione, what're you doing?" she asked her best friend, wandering into the common room late one night.

Hermione immediately had a very guilty look on her face, and something hidden in her hands behind her back. Her late-walking friend tried to laugh. "Hermione, what's going on? What do you have in your hands?"

But Hermione didn't laugh. Instead, the furthest thing from it took place. Her face went white, and the younger girl watched in slow horror as Hermione slid down the windowpane, placing something outside the window on her horrific trip to rock bottom. Ginny blanched, and then rushed forward to catch the larger girl. "Hermione? Hermione, what are you doing? Hermione!" She had screamed her best friend's name and her brother and old crush had come running. Hermione was picked up by Harry and Ron held the portrait open. "Stay here," Ginny had been told. "We're gonna take Hermione to the hospital wing. Don't leave the common room."

"Don't leave the common room, they told me, because of you," she snarled, holding the blade up to the light of the pouring night. "And now, when we're finished here tonight, I'll never leave the common room. I'll be here forever to haunt you when you study, when you do your homework. To remind you that your suicide attempt caused mine...period. And you'll be here, any minute now..."

As if she had spoken the password from the outside, the painting swung open and in walked Hermione, whistling softly and holding her books. She turned when she sensed her best friend's presence. "Ginny! What are you doing up here, so late?" She asked the question in a perfectly normal and content way, but drew in a sharp breath and instantly her books all clattered to the floor when she saw Ginny still holding the blade up. "Gin...I forgot to get that from the window, thank you, but...oh god." Hermione's face paled. "You can throw it out the window for all I care," she hissed, but her face was white with fear.

"This knife isn't going anywhere but right along here--" Ginny drew a line across her left wrist with her long nails. "How'd you like to watch that, Hermione? I thought since you gave me the privilege of watching you die, I thought I'd return the favour."

"I didn't die, Ginny, see? See me? I'm right here. Now Ginny, I never want to see that knife again, please, throw it away, outside, and we'll go to bed."

Ginny placed the edge of the blade along the beginning of her nail-made line. "You can go to bed in about ten minutes, Hermione. After all, that's all it takes, but of course, you would know that already, wouldn't you? Oh wait, no, you wouldn't. Because you had neither the courage to keep going without attempting, nor the courage to finish the job. I have the second courage, Hermione. And I'm going to finish it for the both of us. It's your turn, Hermione. Watch me die."

Hermione stared, unable to move. She wanted to scream, for help, for Ginny, for herself for what she had done to her best friend. She wanted to look away and run away, maybe even let herself drop out the window. But she couldn't, she was transfixed. But even though it seemed to last forever, it was over in a matter of a few seconds. Ginny pressed hard and drew the blade across with nothing more than a slight yet noticeable wince.

This is for you, Hermione...Ginny's faltering thoughts read. This is for everything you did to me, this is to Ron for telling me to stay here, and to Harry for never letting me be the hero for once...her mind went blank and Hermione could only continue to stare as Ginny slid down the same windowpane she had slid down herself. But as she watched Ginny's eyes close, she knew it, she knew it for certain...Ginny did have that courage. That insane, death-embracing courage. She took the blade from Ginny's ultimately limp hand and threw it far out the window.

"If you could have the second courage, Ginny, I can have the first. I only tried once. You tried once too, but you...you finished the job for me. And me, I'll go on. But damn you, Virginia Weasely, you were my best friend. Damn you for finding the perfect way to get back at me. Not the right way, god knows, but...the perfect way."

As Hermione walked slowly away to go to bed, she turned around abruptly, and then continued on. She could've sworn she'd heard it again, right from the lips of the dead...

"It's your turn, Hermione. Watch me die."