Time to Kill

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Time to Kill Ch. 10

By Johnny Doggspitt

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"I'm here, Draco," came a whisper in his ear. This was how Harry had been making his presence known every Friday.

It was breakfast, obviously on a Friday, and Draco was sitting at the Slytherin table, grumpily pushing his scrambled eggs around on his plate. He barely nodded, indicating that he had heard Harry, and went back to ignoring his food.

Several weeks had passed, whether it had been three or four, Draco couldn't remember. Every day ran into one another. He was getting sick of Harry checking in - the boy's voice in his ear...his hot breath tickling Draco's cheek...it was almost enough to drive him mad.

Dumbledore obviously didn't realize the consequences of his orders. It was almost like he was trying to get them back together. He didn't know what he was doing! Draco fumed. Getting them back together was like tying Harry up, dropping him at Voldemort's feet, and saying, 'Enjoy your dinner!' There was no way he was going to let that happen.

Truth be told, though, Draco's resolve was beginning to waver. He was lonely. His friends couldn't supply the companionship and, frankly, the love that he so desperately craved. He missed Harry more than he had ever imagined he could.

Judging from Weasley and Granger's worried looks at all hours of the day, Harry wasn't doing any better. But at least he was going to his classes. Presumably. He did seem quite depressed, though, his hand lingering a bit too long on Draco's shoulder, his voice a bit too mournful.

Draco couldn't stand the pain he heard every time Harry spoke. If he could find a way to take away Harry's pain, he would gladly do it.

Contrary to popular belief, Draco was very naïve when it came to relationships. To put it crudely, his idea of "going out" was "Wham, bam, and Thank You Ma'am". Or "Sir". Whichever way he was swinging at the moment. Actually caring about someone's feelings...that was new. Feeling the need to do something about it...that was terrifying.

Suddenly, Draco had an idea. A disastrous idea, as it turned out, but to his love-starved, lust-filled mind, it sounded good at the time. Perhaps Harry was so depressed because Draco was still available and he couldn't have him! It made perfect sense to him. Maybe if Draco found someone else, Harry would be able to move on with his life. Then that was it. That was what he'd do. But whom could he possibly find that he could be at least somewhat happy with? He looked down the table at Blaise Zabini. It was just a little more than common knowledge that Blaise would cut off his nose for the opportunity to get with Draco. And it did seem like a pretty predictable match.

He looked even further down the table. Then again...

~*~

Draco was used to getting his way. But he didn't get it simply because he was Draco Malfoy. There was always someone who wasn't as afraid of him as they should be. The person he was waiting for was one of those people.

It was Thursday afternoon. He had needed almost an entire week to work up the courage and keep down his vomit enough to approach this person. He wasn't entirely sure he could go through with this. But all it took was one thought of losing Harry to steel his nerves.

Finally, a group of Slytherins rounded the corner. He walked up to them and excused one of their number from the group, navigating them to an empty corridor.

"What do you want, Draco?"

Draco swallowed his pride and dignity. This was all for Harry, he reminded himself. "I would like to request the honor of escorting you to the Hogsmeade trip next weekend." He just barely stopped himself from retching.

"Ooh, Draco, really?" Pansy Parkinson squealed. "Oh, of course I'll go with you."

Suddenly, someone bumped Draco very hard and very rudely from behind. He turned around to berate the offender and was met with...nothing. The corridor was empty.

"Shit," he whispered, knowing that Harry was obviously not happy with him.

"Draco?" Pansy asked from behind him. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he replied quickly. "Nothing." He turned back to her. "Saturday at nine a.m. alright?"

"Absolutely!" Pansy squealed, sounding for all the world like a talking pig.

That wasn't so bad, Draco thought as he walked back to his common room for afternoon break. At least she had agreed right away. He had expected to need to bribe her. Now all he had to do was make it seem convincing. He groaned. This could be more difficult than he thought. After all, being straight was hard work!

~*~

Draco trudged up to his private room after dinner. Pansy had jabbered non-stop about how she was going out with THE Draco Malfoy, and it was starting to drive him MAD! Maybe Pansy hadn't been the ideal choice after all.

Finally arriving in his room, he flopped down on the bed and stared up at the canopy over his four-poster. Harry was really, REALLY, angry with him. Draco didn't even know how he knew. It was just a vibe that was constantly buzzing around him. He sighed. He hated vibes.

Suddenly, his door flew open and slammed shut again of its own accord. Draco was wrenched to his feet and found himself staring into the eyes of a very hurt-looking Harry Potter.

"What the hell are you on about, Draco?" Harry demanded, face inches from Draco's own.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Harry," Draco said in a voice that he hoped sounded bored, but mostly just sounded nasal. "How did you get up here?"

"Doesn't matter. Why did you ask Pansy out?"

"Why shouldn't I have? I'm single, she's single, it makes sense! I can ask out anyone I please!"

Harry's face fell even more, if that was possible. "But...but I thought..."

"What did you think, Harry?" Draco demanded mockingly. "Did you think that I'd stay single after we broke up? Don't be naïve. I won't stay single just for you."

"But why Pansy?" Harry asked, looking as though he were thoroughly ready to die. "She's a girl!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Really? I hadn't noticed. I can like both girls and guys, can't I?" Harry opened his moth to argue, but Draco cut him off. "No, Harry. Just go along with this. You'll be fine. Now get out of my room. I'm exhausted, and you're not making me feel any better."

Without warning, Harry engulfed Draco in a desperate hug. Draco allowed himself a few seconds of indulgence before gently pushing Harry back and handing him his invisibility cloak.

"Don't forget to check in with me tomorrow," he reminded him gently.

Harry didn't answer; he just wrapped the cloak around himself. The door opened and closed again, and he was gone.

Draco sighed and lay back down on his bed. Harry would be fine, he assured himself. Give him a little time, and he'd be back to his old self.

*~*

Harry didn't check in at breakfast the next day. Draco couldn't blame him for not talking to him, but Harry could at least follow Dumbledore's rule. Draco sneered into his food. Harry had decided to spite him. Oh well. Harry had until dinner to check in before Draco went to the Headmaster. He wasn't worried; Harry was just mad at him, and with good reason. Eventually, he'd get over whatever he was feeling and make his presence known.

Draco sighed into his porridge. Pansy was coming. He could just feel it. It was like some impending doom getting closer and closer. He had decided to break up with her after the Hogsmeade weekend.

"Draco, darling!" Draco cringed as Pansy plopped into the spot next to Draco.

"Pansy, my sweet," Draco sang in a sugary voice. He kissed the back of her hand, ever the gentleman. "I trust you slept well?"

Pansy giggled and blushed, and would not let go of his hand. "Very well, thank you." She entwined their fingers, and Draco threw up a little bit in the back of his throat. "What class do we have first?"

Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Potions, darling. It's on the schedule."

"Oh!" she giggled. "Of course!"

Draco turned back to his breakfast and cringed. It was going to be a long day.

*~*

Lunch came and went with no sign from Harry. Draco was getting rather annoyed by his rudeness. Harry was trying to make him worry, trying to make him go look for him. Well, Draco wasn't going to give him that satisfaction. Harry would just have to grow up.

His classes were horrible that day. Pansy talked to him non-stop, and it was usually he who got in trouble for it. Snape had even taken points from him! His own godfather had punished him for something that he didn't even do! He had earned a detention from McGonagall after he mistakenly transfigured her nose into a butterfly. And to top it all off, he had a horrible feeling that something either already had happened or was going to happen soon. He was glad the Slytherins had the rest of the day off. He couldn't imagine what the rest of the day would have been like had he needed to go to even more classes.

Suddenly, he realized that Pansy had asked him a question. "Sorry?" he asked politely.

She narrowed her eyes. "I said, you've been spacing out a lot lately. Why is that?"

Draco shrugged. "I'm just tired. And distracted. It's nothing to worry about."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "I don't know why you're so melancholy all the time these days," she said exasperatedly, using a bigger word than Draco thought could ever be in her vocabulary. "I mean..." she lowered her voice, "you did kill Harry Potter after all! You should be happy!"

"I am happy!" Draco protested. "I'm just distracted." She was really starting to annoy him, but he couldn't help feeling pleased that she hadn't heard of his run-in with Voldemort. Her parents were not active Death Eaters, and were thus kept out of the main loop, but he was surprised that his parents hadn't informed her family. He wasn't complaining, though. Anything that made his life less complicated was a wonderful break.

"So what do you want to do on our free afternoon?" Pansy asked seductively.

"Sleep," Draco grumbled softly. "I mean...whatever you want to do, darling."

Pansy frowned. "Well, I want to go to the lake." When Draco groaned, she added, "Oh, we don't have to swim or anything. We can just...sit under a tree and...hold hands..." she snuggled up to him. "Doesn't that sound nice, Drake?"

Draco cringed. That was Harry's nickname for him! And the lake was Harry and his spot! He sighed. "Yeah. Real nice." Could this day get any worse?

*~*

As it turned out, yes, the day could get worse. And it did, as bad days usually will.

Harry didn't check in with him at dinner. Draco...was...furious. Harry had gone way too far, and now Draco would have to go to all the trouble of informing the Headmaster. Draco couldn't even believe how selfish he was being, putting all of them through the worry and stress of finding him. Not that Draco was worried, mind you. Harry was playing games, and Draco wouldn't give him the satisfaction of playing along.

He fumed all the way to the entrance to Dumbledore's office before realizing that he didn't know the password. "Damn it," he whispered. "What would that old fool have as his password?"

"This old fool, as you so eloquently put it, rather enjoys Blood lollipops," Dumbledore said from behind him.

"Sir...I..." he stammered stupidly as the stone gargoyle jumped aside.

"No need to explain, my boy. Come up and tell me what's on your mind."

"Actually, sir, I can tell you right here." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You-know-who didn't you-know-what today."

Dumbledore stared at him blankly. "Mr. Malfoy, I am not a young man and have no time to decipher coded messages. What is it you're trying to tell me?"

"The boy I am watching didn't check in with me today," he said exasperatedly.

Dumbledore's eyes grew wide. "Oh, I see. I shall summon Severus. Mr. Malfoy, please fetch Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger and inform them to bring the map. They will know what you're talking about."

"With all due respect, sir," Draco interrupted, "I really don't see a need for all this fuss. Harry's just being spiteful."

"That does not matter at this time, Mr. Malfoy. Right now, all that matters is finding him."

Draco grumbled but headed off to Gryffindor Tower. There was no need for all this fuss! Harry was fine! Draco would know if he wasn't!

He stormed all the way to the Gryffindor domain without even realizing his feet were moving. The Fat Lady startled him out of his thoughts.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Come to terrorize my Gryffindors? You're most certainly not coming in here! I've heard the rumors about you, and anyone who hurts, or kills, one of my Gryffindors is never entering here, I don't care if you do have a password! Why if I weren't stuck in this frame, I'd -"

"Oh, shut up!" Draco demanded. "I don't even want in! I just want to talk to Weasley and Granger!"

"Ha! You expect me to go in and get two defenseless girls and just hand them over to you? I think n-"

"Not the female Weasley, smart one! The male!"

"Oh..." the painting responded, confusion on her face. "Well, I suppose I can do that..." She walked out of the painting, assumedly to fetch the remaining two-thirds of the Golden Trio.

Draco rolled his eyes. Jealous ex-boyfriends and genius paintings. It had been a very stressful day, and even now at the end of it, things weren't looking up.

After a bit, Hermione peeked her head out of the portrait-hole. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Harry didn't check in with me today," he said exasperatedly. "Is he in there?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I haven't seen him since yesterday!"

Draco sighed. "Of course. Well, in that case, Dumbledore instructs you and Weasley to come to his office. He said something about a map?"

"Oh! Of course. We'll be right down." She disappeared back into the portrait.

When she returned with Ron, she was tucking some very old-looking parchment into her pocket. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

Draco rolled his eyes and started off for the Headmaster's office. All this fuss...he'd kill Harry when they found him.

Finally arriving in Dumbledore's office, the three students found Snape already there. He was glowering darkly in the corner, and obviously was of the same frame of mind as Draco.

"Miss Granger, the map, please," Dumbledore requested.

"He's not on it, Professor," she said, but handed the parchment over anyway. "I already checked."

Dumbledore tapped the parchment with his wand and muttered something. Ink started spreading over the parchment in spidery lines, forming a map of Hogwarts. Draco looked on in amazement.

"No, he is not on here," the Headmaster agreed finally. "Mr. Malfoy, supposing Harry just needed to be alone and has not been kidnapped, if he is nowhere on the Hogwarts grounds, where do you suppose he could be?"

Draco shrugged. "Truth be told, sir, I don't know Harry well enough to know where he would go to be alone."

Hermione's eyes suddenly lit up. "Sir...might he have gone to the Whomping Willow?"

The Headmaster smiled. "He very well could have. I'm sure Professor Snape would be only too happy to investigate that theory." He stared encouragingly at Snape. Snape stared back challengingly. Finally, Snape sighed, rolled his eyes, and stormed out of the room.

Draco was confused. "Why on earth would Harry want to go near that killer tree?" His question was ignored.

Professor Dumbledore sighed. "Unfortunately, there is nothing more the three of you can do to help at the moment. Why don't you go back to the dorms and get some rest."

"I, for one, think that's a good idea," Draco agreed. "I expect to be informed when he is found."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the formality of his student. "Of course, Mr. Malfoy. Will you mind being woken up if we don't find him until late?"

"Not at all," Draco growled. "I want to be there to kick his ass the moment he gets back."

"Yeah, us too!" Ron piped up stupidly. Hermione elbowed him in the stomach, but Dumbledore smiled.

"As you wish, Mr. Weasley. Now off you go."

Draco trudged out of Dumbledore's office and down toward the dungeons. He couldn't believe Harry. It was just rude of him to be acting like this. It was so out of character, too. Harry always seemed so concerned about other people.

Just as he passed the Great Hall, Snape burst through the front doors carrying something in his arms.

Probably a dead animal, Draco thought. It certainly was a small bundle.

Snape shot him a concerned look as the professor rushed up the stairs as though he were being chased by a werewolf. Draco couldn't for the life of him think why is godfather looked so worried.

Suddenly, he remembered why Snape had been outside in the first place. Harry! What if Harry was hurt? What if that was why he hadn't checked in all day? But that was silly, Draco told himself. Harry couldn't be hurt! There was no way! If Harry were hurt, it would be all Draco's fault for not keeping track of him! And besides, Draco would know if Harry were hurt.

He looked back up at Snape. As the older man turned a corner, Draco saw that something hung limply from the bundle. For the split second before Snape disappeared from view, Draco could almost pretend he didn't know what the object was. But the moonlight falling through a nearby window revealed it for what it really was: a much-too-pale hand, streaked with blood.

Draco's head started reeling. He clutched it and stared straight ahead in shock. This couldn't be happening! How could Harry be hurt? Maybe it isn't Harry, he told himself.

Yeah, said the rational, sarcastic part of his mind. Maybe it's just some unfortunate loser who had a bad run-in with a rabid chipmunk. OF COURSE it's Harry!

Draco suddenly felt dizzy. He fell backward, hitting his head. What should he do? What could he do? He'd already messed up, maybe irrevocably so. After a few moments completely devoid of thought, Draco's inner autopilot kicked in and slowly started him up the staircase. It wasn't until he reached the Hospital Wing that he realized he had moved at all.

Snapping out of his trance, he quickly grabbed the door-handle and pulled. It was locked. Draco was panicking. He could feel his sanity leaving him. If he didn't get in to Harry, he was going to snap.

Banging loudly on the doors, he demanded to be allowed access, his insisting sprinkled with threats and curses. Finally, Professor Snape opened the door. Draco tried to pass him, but he placed a firm hand on his godson's chest and closed the door behind himself.

"What are you doing?" Draco roared. "Let me in! Let me see him!"

Snape took his godson bracingly by the shoulders. "Not until I prepare you for what you will see, Draco. You must listen to me!"

"Is he alive?" Draco asked pleadingly, not noticing the tears streaming down his face. "Please, Severus, is he still alive?"

Snape took a breath, his hesitation like a knife in Draco's chest. "He is, at the moment. But, Draco, he is very weak. He could...slip away...at any moment -"

"All the more reason for me to see him now!" Draco demanded, angry that his godfather could stop him at such a critical time.

"Not just yet, Draco -"

"Then tell me what happened to him! Was it the Death Eaters? I swear, I'll kill Voldemort myself if he-"

"You know the Dark Lord still believes Potter is dead, Draco."

"Then who was it?"

Snape sighed and looked at the floor for a second. Then, taking his godson by the chin and looking him in the eye, he said, "It was himself."

Draco took a step back, breaking out of his godfather's grasp. "What do you mean?" he asked, horrified.

Severus sighed again. "There is no easy way to tell you this, Draco: Harry tried to commit suicide. He slit his wrists."

Draco's jaw dropped. "No! No, Harry wouldn't do that!"

"Well, unfortunately, he did. Now hear me, Draco: Harry is very sick. He is incredibly pale, and his wrists are a mess. This is what you will see when you go in. Madame Pomfrey is doing all she can, but if Harry has lost the will to live, no amount of spells or potions will be able to save him."

Draco breathed deeply, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I just want to see him," he whispered.

Snape nodded. "As you wish." He pulled open the door and Draco ran through to the only bed with the curtains pulled around it. His body started shaking as he approached the bed. Reaching out a quivering, pale hand, he drew back the curtain.

There on the bed was Harry. He was paler than death, his precious blood having fled his dying body. Draco placed a hand on Harry's cheek and found it stone cold. He reached down and took one of Harry's hands in both of his own. Kissing it softly, he lay down on the bed, nestled his head on Harry's chest, and listened intently to the boy's heart. The beating was slow and faint, but steady, and Draco's breathing slowly became synchronized with it. He closed his eyes and kissed Harry's hand again. "I'm so sorry, love," he whispered, before falling asleep.