Taboo

The snow had begun to melt and it was considerably warmer outside. The sun shone down on the school grounds, the sky a shade of bright blue. The weather dramatically contrasted with Malfoy's current mood. Even though it had been nearly two months since the poisoned mead, Potter was still suspicious. Hermione had stopped suspecting him long ago and never brought up these kinds of things anymore. She seemed to sense that their time was limited and preferred to enjoy his company rather than speculate about who was behind the attempted murders. He was grateful for this, but it pained him to have her trust him so deeply. He didn't deserve it. One day he would have to confess everything, and he almost dreaded this as much as the next time he had to face his master.

He knew that the Dark Lord would not be pleased by his failures, but he wouldn't be disappointed either. These failures were expected. Malfoy had it all figured out now. He was just being toyed with, used to control his parents. And when they became useless to the Dark Lord's cause, well, that would be the end. He was disposable. Insignificant.

He hated not knowing precisely when the end would be. No one had ever told him, "You have six months." At least then he would be prepared for it. He just had to keep going and keep hoping that he would survive to see tomorrow. At this point, he no longer cared about being a Death Eater, The Dark Lord's most faithful servant. He was living solely for Hermione. If not for her, he would have ended it long ago. Even so, the way things were going lately gave him an overwhelming urge to confront his master right now and stop the suffering. What good is it to be alive if you have no control over you own life? He wanted so badly to break away, to resist, but he didn't know how. He was too weak, too cowardly.

-----------------------

Pansy Parkinson woke up puffy-eyed and miserable. Blaise Zabini had ended their relationship rather nastily last night.

"All you ever do is nag, nag, nag," he'd said. He imitated her voice. "'Blaise, don't forget, it's my birthday tomorrow. Blaise, I want you to bring me roses. Blaise, did you hear me?'"

She was so stunned by this outburst that she just stood there staring at him, not quite comprehending the words that were spewing out of his mouth.

"It's always about you! Everything's about you!" he shouted angrily. "Well, this might be news to you, but there are other people living on this planet."

"Blaise, I--"

"Do you ever think about other people? Do you ever think about me?" He continued talking as if he didn't hear her. "I've never heard you say 'Hey, Blaise, what do you want to do today?' It's always, 'I want to go to Madam Pudifoot's' or 'I want to get a gillywater at the Three Broomsticks.' You always say whatever you want to do, and then we do it because if we don't, you'll spend the entire day crying and whining and making me feel guilty."

"Blaise, I'm really sorry," she said, her eyes filling with tears. "I didn't know..."

"Don't you dare cry," he said threateningly. She choked back the tears. In all her life, no one had ever treated her like this. No one had ever told her that she was selfish. Her parents had always treated her like a princess. Even Draco had been nice to her, until he'd started going out with Hermione. But even then had never been cruel to her, perhaps a little bit aloof, but never rude.

"Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"You would've just cried, just like you're about to right now," he said coldly, pacing in front of the fireplace. "You know, I'd always thought Draco was a little bit odd for going out with you, but now I think he's completely MENTAL." Then he'd stormed up the stairs, leaving her alone in front of the dying fire. She didn't go upstairs until the grandfather clock struck midnight, it's somber tone reverberating throughout the common room. She'd gotten into bed, lying there until exhaustion overtook her mind.

She didn't feel any better today. Though it was early and most people were still asleep, she went downstairs to sit in front of the ashes in the fireplace. She traced a finger over the designs in the carpet and stared, thinking. Was she really such a terrible person? Several people passed her on their way to breakfast, but she didn't notice them.

"Pansy?" She looked up, startled, and found herself gazing into Draco Malfoy's gray-blue eyes. "Why are you sitting on the floor?"

She felt the tears coming and tried to blink them away, but it was no use. He knelt down beside her, and she wept into his robes.

"H-he said I was selfish, Draco," she sobbed. "I never knew he hated me so m-much."

"Don't cry, Pansy," he said consolingly, patting her back awkwardly. "Everything will be alright." He helped her over to the sofa. What were you supposed to say when there was a girl crying on your shoulder? He had no clue.

"I just never knew..." she said, after she stopped crying.

Malfoy wanted desperately to break down and cry with her, but he knew he couldn't. What would she think of him then? Instead, he blocked his own emotions and squeezed her hand gently. "He doesn't hate you, Pansy. He's just...angry."

"Tell me, do you hate me? Do you think I'm conceited? Be honest."

"I don't hate you, but yes, sometimes you are a little self-centered." That was an understatement. She was really self-centered, possibly the most self-centered person he'd ever encountered.

"Why didn't anyone ever tell me?" she wailed.

"Because this is how you'd react," he said silently.

"I've spent my entire life thinking that everyone adores me, and now I find out that it's not true. God, I'm so pathetic, Draco." He didn't say anything, he just let her rant. "You know, I've been really miserable without you. After you left, I felt...empty. There was too much silence, too much space. I only dated Blaise because I needed a distraction. I never dreamed I would fall in love with him."

"You love him?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know anymore." She let her hands fall into her lap.

"Did he ever tell you that he loved you?"

"No," she said, shaking her hand. "Not like you did. No one's ever loved me like you did, Draco. Ever."

She leaned forward, closing the distance between their faces until they were only inches apart. He instinctively leaned away, but she placed her hand over his. "I love you, Draco. I always have."

"Don't do this, Pansy," he murmured. This was wrong, all wrong. Despite that, he was drawn to her. Before he could stop himself, their lips made contact, and his arms slid around her reflexively. A few seconds later, he became fully aware of what he was doing. He jerked away.

"Draco..." She touched his forearm.

"No, Pansy. No. This is wrong." He scrambled away from her. "Goddammit, I can't do this!" He burst out of the common room, not knowing where his feet were taking him. He came to an abrupt stop outside the boys' bathroom. He went inside and leaned against one of the bathroom stalls, his heart pounding. Feeling sick, he bent over the sink, retching. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he looked up at his reflection in the cracked mirror. He saw Moaning Myrtle emerge from one of the stalls.

"What's wrong?" she asked in her high-pitched voice. It made his head hurt. He retched again. "What's wrong?" she repeated.

"Everything," he croaked. "Everything is wrong." He clutched the sides of the sink, letting the tears roll feely down his cheeks.

"Don't cry," said Moaning Myrtle. "I can help you."

"No...you can't help me...no one can..." His entire body shook. "I can't do it...but I have to...he's going to kill me anyway..."

He suddenly had the feeling that someone was staring at him. He whirled around, wand at the ready, and found himself face-to-face with Harry Potter. He sent a jinx at him, missing and hitting the door instead. The jinx ricocheted, and he felt it whisk past his cheek. He ducked as Potter tried to get him with the Jelly Legs Curse.

"Cruc--" he began, but Potter was faster.

"SECTUMSEMPRA!"

He felt a searing pain in his chest as blood spurted from the deep gashes made by the curse. He dropped his wand and fell to the floor, writhing in agony.

"MURDER IN THE BATHROOM!" screamed Myrtle hysterically, hovering above them.

He thought he would explode from pain. Was this the merciful end?

"Tell Hermione...I love her..." he rasped, though no one could hear him above Myrtle's screeching.

The door burst open, but he couldn't see who it was. He saw a dark cloak swish across the wet floor and felt himself being lifted up from the pool of water and blood. He heard Snape's voice muttering something, and then his body went limp and he felt no more.

-----------------------

"For the last time, it was an accident!" Harry was pacing around in the common room. He'd already been given detention for every Saturday until the end of the year, and now Hermione was going on about how he shouldn't have used the spell. "I didn't know what it would do! I was just experimenting!"

"You could've killed him," she said coldly. "You should be glad that Snape got there in time. And furthermore, I really think you should get rid of that book."

"I--what?" He stopped pacing and looked at her incredulously. "No!"

"You're seriously going to keep it after all the trouble it's gotten you in?"

"Of course I'm keeping it," snapped Harry. "And what do you mean 'trouble'? Ron wouldn't be here if I didn't have it--"

"--and you wouldn't' have a grade in Potions that you don't deserve."

"Oh, come on, Hermione," said Harry. "You're not--okay, you know what? I don't want to talk about this anymore. This conversation isn't getting us anywhere."

She slammed her book shut. "I'm going to visit Draco in the hospital wing." Without another word, she left Gryffindor Tower.

Nearly the whole school had heard about what happened in the boys' bathroom by now. Moaning Myrtle had wasted no time in spreading the awful news. Hermione had already heard several versions of the event, all of them except Harry's embellished so outrageously that she didn't know what was fact or fiction.

She arrived at the hospital wing and quietly pushed the door open, nearly hitting Pansy Parkinson on her way out.

"He's just woken up," said Pansy, giving Hermione a slight nod.

"Oh," said Hermione. It was not until a few seconds later that she actually realized why the conversation had seemed so strange. Pansy had spoken to her without calling her "Mudblood" or insulting her. Still bewildered by this unexpected encounter, Hermione stepped into the hospital wing.

"Ah, Miss Granger," said Madam Pomfrey. "I assume you've come to see Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes," she replied, nodding.

"He's been asking for you. Over here." She finished folding a sheet and led Hermione over to a bed in the corner. Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtain; Hermione stifled a gasp. Malfoy lay on the bed, paler than usual and with his eyes closed. She could see a vein pulsing in his lavender-tinted eyelids.

"Is he...?" she asked anxiously.

"He's in no immediate danger," said the nurse, reading her mind. "I've already administered all the proper treatments. You'll have him back in no time." Hermione nodded mutely. "No more than fifteen minutes." She hurried away to tend to other students.

"Draco?" she whispered, perching herself on the edge of the narrow bed. His eyes fluttered open.

"I thought I would never see you again. I thought it was the end," he said hoarsely, gazing at her intensely. It made her heart ache to see him like this.

"Shush, don't be ridiculous." She reached for his hand. "And whatever happened to 'hello'?"

"Hello," he said, smiling. She returned the smile. "How have you been?"

"Worried. Scared out of my mind. Going crazy," she answered. "When I heard, I thought--I thought--" She couldn't continue.

"You thought that I was dead." He laughed dryly. "It takes much more than that to finish me off," he joked, attempting to hide his fear.

"This isn't a joking matter, Draco. Moaning Myrtle said that you were covered in blood..."

"Well, when I was on the floor bleeding, I did think for a moment that I was dying. I was in so much pain; I didn't think I could take it. I guess I wouldn't have minded that much if Potter had killed me."

"Don't talk like that. Please don't talk like that."

"Why, is it scaring you?" He smirked crookedly.

"It's not funny!" she said loudly. Madam Pomfrey glared at her. "This is serious," she whispered.

"Do you know how adorable you are when you're mad?"

"Draco..."

"Okay, okay," he said, surrendering. "We won't joke about it anymore. Happy now?"

"Actually no. I want to know why you're depressed."

"Who said that I'm depressed?" he asked innocently.

"Harry says that he saw you crying. You don't cry for no reason." He scowled. She bent down to whisper in his ear. "Tell me. You can tell me anything."

"It doesn't concern you." He avoided her eyes.

"Yes, it does," she countered. "If it's bothering you, then I want to know what it is."

"I don't want to upset you."

"I think I can handle it." She folded her arms and waited.

"Fine," he sighed. He looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping and then whispered to her. "I saw Pansy crying this morning, and I asked her what was wrong. Turns out that Blaise broke up with her rather, er, rudely. She begged me to take her back. And of course, I said no." He couldn't bring himself to tell her about what had happened afterward.

"You were crying because of that?" She frowned. It seemed a bit over sensitive. "Are you sure there's nothing else?"

"I...failed," he whispered after a long pause. Hermione looked at him blankly. "I've failed at the task I've been assigned..."

"You mean...is he going to--"

"Kill me?" he finished for her. "Yes."

"When?"

"I don't know."

"No. No," she whispered, horrified. "He can't. He can't do this."

"He can do whatever he wants, Hermione. I'm just a pawn in his little game. I'm not important. He can easily find someone to replace me."

"I don't believe it." She saw Madam Pomfrey approaching. "I've got to go." She bent down and kissed his forehead. "I love you."

"I love you more," he said, bringing her fingertips to his lips.

"Out, out, out!" said Madam Pomfrey, shooing Hermione away from the bed. "You've had nearly half an hour now! The boy needs his rest."

"I'll see you tomorrow," he called after her. She turned and gave him a cheerless smile that made him wish he hadn't told her.