My Bloody Valentine

My Bloody Valentine

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//Oh my love,

Please don't cry

I'll wash my bloody hands

And we'll start a new life

I ripped out
His throat
And called you on the telephone
To take off
My disguise
Just in time to hear you cry when you...

You mourn the death of your bloody valentine
The night he died
You mourn the death of your bloody valentine
One last time

Singin'...

Oh, my love
Please don't cry
I'll wash my bloody hands and
We'll start a new life
I don't know much at all
I don't know wrong from right
All I know is that I love you tonight

There was
Police and
Flashing lights
The rain came down so hard that night and the
Headlines read
A lover died
No tell-tale heart was left to find when you...

You mourn the death of your bloody valentine
The night he died
You mourn the death of your bloody valentine
One last time

Singin'...

Oh, my love
Please don't cry
I'll wash my bloody hands and
We'll start a new life
I don't know much at all
I don't know wrong from right
All I know is that I love you tonight

Tonight

He dropped you off, I followed him home
Then I, I stood outside his bedroom window
Standing over him, he begged me not to do
What I knew I had to do cause I'm so in love with you

Oh, my love
Please don't cry
I'll wash my bloody hands and
We'll start a new life
I don't know much at all
I don't know wrong from right
All I know is that I love you tonight
Tonight//

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He stood silently at the foot of the four-poster in the middle of the room, conscious of nothing but how the rhythmic pounding of rain against the window seemed to be in time with his even but slightly shaky breathing. Steadying his gaze on the sleeping figure buried beneath the covers, he noiselessly advanced until he was hovering directly above the sole occupant of the bed. He fixated his once indifferent gaze turned murderous glare on the sleeping man, smoothly reaching into his perfectly tailored, expensive black robes and pulling out a wand. Pointing it at the man, he looked to be on the verge of hexing him at any second, but instead stood stock-still as his ever-fixed glare bored into the man, his eyes filled with hatred.

But underneath that hatred there was pain, a pain that fueled such passionate hatred. It was the pain of an unrequited love and an unsung hero, a pain that destroyed a heart throbbing with love, a pain that begged for revenge upon the one cause of that unbearable, everlasting pain: Harry Potter.

Still, the man couldn't bring himself to destroy Potter yet; something was holding him back. Time seemed to stand still as neither man moved a muscle; as thunder rolled in the distance, he unflinchingly kept his wand at the ready, pointed directly at Harry. With a particularly loud crack of thunder, Harry began to stir. He rolled over and moaned sleepily, opening his eyes to meet a most unwelcome sight. A murderous looking Draco Malfoy was pointing his wand directly at Harry's heart.

Their eyes made contact for just a fraction of a second, but the next moment Harry had torn his gaze away and moved to grab his wand from his beside table.

"Accio wand," came Draco's cold yet deadened voice, and an instant later he had smoothly caught and pocketed Harry's wand. "Tsk, tsk, Potter. You didn't think I'd let you get away that easily, would you?" Draco rebuked him in such a severe tone of voice that one would have never guessed he was choking back tears.

Harry stared unblinkingly back, his hand still frozen halfway to his bedside table. "You," he spat wrathfully, radiating with hatred. "You - " he let the word hang in the air like a threat, his voice laced with hatred, spite, and an almost undetectable hint of fear.

"Yes, me," Draco said indifferently; only the slightest twitch of his mouth hinted at the intense emotional battle raging within him at that very moment. "But now that we've established who I am, I'm sure you're wondering what in the world I'm doing here."

"I would term that an 'understatement,'" Harry said dryly.

"It's quite simple, really," Draco said lazily, "I'm going to kill you."

Harry's eyes widened in horror, and his face took on an expression it didn't often wear: fear. There he was, unarmed and virtually helpless, faced with an armed and dangerous Draco Malfoy who had, coincidently, declared his intention of killing him. Harry had been faced with death threats numerous times before, but this time he feared his luck had run out and he would finally meet the end he should have met so long ago. The ominous cloud of foreboding that had loomed over him since he woke up bore down on him and swallowed him whole - this time he knew it was over, once and for all.

"Why?" he asked simply.

"Why?" Draco scoffed. "Oh, there are so many ways I could answer that question - "

"Why?" Harry repeated more firmly, his voice slightly shaky but filled with genuine curiosity; fittingly, he had the air of someone who was coming to terms with an inevitable reality - his fate.

Draco gave a long, drawn out sigh, just for effect. "Well, there's that one inescapable factor of my lifelong hatred of you - brought on by my father's hatred of you, of course - but now it's so much more than that. You came into Hogwarts, famous, perfect Potter, and everyone loved you. You were showered with glory wherever you went - whether for Quidditch, for some random act of reckless stupidity that was confused with bravery, or for something that happened so long ago you can't even remember it. And the fact is, you don't even deserve that glory - sure, you can play Quidditch, but so can any idiot with a broom. Sure, you braved all sorts of dangerous situations, but you got yourself into every single one of them. Sure, you brought Voldemort down for thirteen years, but you didn't even do anything!" Draco ranted, his façade of indifference melting away with every sentence. "While you're surrounded by love, admiration, and fame, I'm left in your shadow - with nothing. Everything I do, everything I want, everything I love; you're always there to snatch it away from me," Draco spat vehemently. "I helped you bring down the Dark Lord, you know, but all anyone cared about was your part in his defeat. Do you have any idea how hard it is living in someone's shadow? Of course you don't. But I'm used to it - I've done it my whole life. You've taken so much away from me, Potter, but then you took the one thing I can't live without - you took her," he finished; it wasn't his words that made Harry realize why Draco had to do this - it was the pain that saturated the voice still ringing in Harry's ears - it was the heartbreak etched so plainly on Draco's face.

"Ginny," Harry whispered.

"Ginny," Draco repeated, his face hardened with anger and loathing, his voice filled with grief and sorrow.

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured. "I didn't know - but you have to know that I love her, too."

"No one could every love Ginny as much as I love her," Draco hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"Look, I'm sorry, but I can't help loving Ginny."

"Oh, I know, you can't help it - well, neither can I. And the thing is, I can't live without Ginny, but I can't live with her because of you. So I've decided to simple things up for myself and make it so that you can't live if I'm without her, instead."

"Look, I understand where you're coming from - well, sort of - but you're insane."

Draco's face twisted into his trademark sinister sneer. "Love's a bitch," he replied shortly.

Harry nodded silently in response, unsure whether he was feeling more pity or fear at the moment.

Draco slowly walked toward Harry; when they were just inches apart, he whispered, "This isn't easy, you know. But it just feels so right."

In the background, thunder rolled on, but time stood still as love and insanity melded into one and blurred the boundaries of wrong and right - for in the end, love conquers all.

"Well, now that you're done wasting time, I think it's time I did what I came here to do in the first place," Draco stated, reinstating reality in speaking, his menacing demeanor and confidence renewed. "Without any further ado - Avada Kedavra!"

With a wave of Draco's wand and a flash of green light, Harry Potter met that which he had escaped more times than he could count: death. And as Draco Malfoy looked down at Harry's cold, lifeless body, he smiled; a sensation of pleasure washed over him, and any semblance of regret melted away. Harry Potter was dead, and now Ginny Weasley would be his.

Draco calmly walked into the living room of the large estate and to the fireplace, and with a flick of his wand flames were crackling merrily from the hearth. After grabbing a handful of Floo powder and tossing it into the fire, Draco stuck his head into the now green flames and called out evenly, "17 Hogsmeade Place; the residence of Virginia Weasley." His head swirled through the Network for a brief period, but he soon found himself looking into the darkness of Ginny's living room. "Ginny!" he called out urgently. "Something's happened at Harry's - something bad - you have to come, quick!"

Ginny, who had fallen asleep on the couch while working late to meet a deadline, leapt up from the couch at these words. "Draco? What is it? WHAT happened?"

"I can't tell you like this - you just have to come here, to Harry's - you have to see for yourself - " he trailed off; before he had even finished, Ginny had Disapparated with a pop.

As Draco pulled his head out of the fireplace, he caught sight of a breathless, panic-stricken Ginny looking down at him with pleading eyes. "What's happened, Draco?" she asked, her voice quavering.

Draco shuffled his feet nervously and turned to face her with a look of sincere remorse, though inside he was smiling. "Ginny, Harry's - well, he's dead," he whispered.

Ginny's face slowly slackened to a horror-struck expression and her eyes welled up with tears. "No," she rasped, "he can't be - I just saw him tonight - he was fine, he can't be dead, not like this - " she ranted, her voice escalating in pitch. "HOW CAN HE BE DEAD?!" she shrieked, promptly bursting into tears and bolting up the stairs to Harry's bedroom.

As soon as she was out of sight, Draco let the sinister smile he was suppressing play on his face before following her up the stairs.

Ginny had thrown her weeping form on Harry's dead body, crying "Why?!" in between hysterical sobs every once in a while. Once all her tears had dried up, she turned to Draco and asked, "How - did - this - happen?" between ragged breaths.

"Well, " he said with a fake expression of pity, "We sensed a disturbance here at Headquarters, and since I was the Auror on duty I had to come check it out. But when I got here, it was already too late. The second I saw what had happened, I ran to get you," he said. "I feel so horrible - if only I'd been here a bit sooner, maybe he'd still be alive," he lied, his words dripping with false sympathy.

Ginny stood up and walked over to Draco; she hugged him, burying her tear-stained face in his chest. "It's not your fault, Draco."

"You have no idea," he murmured.

Ginny inclined her head to look straight into Draco's eyes. "There's no way you could have helped what happened, Draco," she said.

"I suppose."

"But he's still gone - gone - " she whispered, lapsing into tears.

"Shh, Ginny, it'll be all right," he said.

"How?" she asked.

Draco didn't say anything for a while, settling only for stroking her hair reassuringly. Finally, he muttered, so softly that she couldn't hear him, "Because I love you."

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-El fin