Hannah Grace and the Dark Arts

~Chapter Twelve~

Year Six

"Don't go."

This was what he said every time she moved to leave. 

Well, he didn't say so explicitly, but she knew that's what he meant.

She chuckled and sat back down during one such time. "You must be feeling really badly if you want to spend so much time with me."

"Don't say that. I enjoy your visits."

"Well, I'm glad." She had been enjoying them too.  "I was beginning to wonder  if I'd done something."

"What do you mean?" 

"To make you hate me so much as to ignore me."

Hurt flashed across his face at her words. "What? That's ridiculous. I don't hate you."

"No? Then why were you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," he insisted.

 "Well it feels like it. Ever since we got back to school. I mean, bloody hell, at least I'm trying."

"No, that's not – I never meant that–" he stuttered.

"What's going on?" she demanded. "What's up with you? Why won't you talk to me?"

"It's none of your business," he said.

He said so gently, but the words still hurt. "Yes it bloody is my business! You're my friend, and I want to help you."

"There's nothing to help with. So just leave it."

 She hoped her next words wouldn't ruin  the reconnection they had created, that she had tried so hard to forge again between them. "There's something you're not telling me," she finally said, choosing her words very carefully. "You don't have to tell me, but I really wish you would. You also don't have to do this, whatever it is you're doing." 

Despite her not knowing what it was, he understood what she was referring to. "I have to," he protested.

"I'll stand by you if you don't."

"You don't understand–"

"But I wish I could! I just wish I could understand."

 His voice shook when he spoke.  "If I don't do this, he'll kill me."

His words shocked her. "Who?"

"You-Know-Who!" he rasped.

"Draco, what are you talking about?" she pressed. She was only growing more and more concerned and she hated being kept in the dark. Was this really a matter of life and death? "I thought you were dealing with some family issue..."

"It is, sort of..." He sighed, and instead of answering her question said, "I guess I didn't realize you cared so much."

She resisted the urge to smack him. Instead, she cursed in Italian. "Of course I bloody care! You're my oldest friend. I might have even said best friend, at one time. So, we've both changed, grown apart. But you're still just that: my old friend. And I'm not giving up on you, so please don't give up on me." Now it sounded like she was begging. Perhaps she was.

In perhaps a bold move, she reached out and took his hand which was laying outstretched on the sheets.

He looked down at their now joined hands. "And I care, and that's why I can't tell you."

She sighed. "Draco–" She very stubbornly continued to prod, tried to. But Draco, equally stubbornly, revealed nothing.

"No, Hannah. You're already in enough danger as it is."

"Yeah, there's been a lot of that going around lately." She sighed. "I just wish I could help you in some way." Was this to be their relationship from now on, to get closer only to be abruptly cut off?

"No, you don't, trust me. Please."

She gritted her teeth. "Why are you being so resistant to my help?"

"Because I don't need it! And I don't want it."

"You're better than this." The words were out of her mouth before she could think. 

He gave a scoff. "You don't really believe that."

"Perhaps I'm beginning to." Or had she wanted to believe it?

"No, you're not."

"Draco–"

"Well, I'm not." He forcibly ripped his hand from her grasp, startling her. He grimaced at the pain this action brought. "I don't want your help, and I don't want your pity. I just want you to go, leave. Leave me alone."

"Don't go..."

"Draco–"

"Get out, you selfish traitor."

His words were like a smack in the face. He was wearing the sneer that he so often displayed towards her friends, but never to her. Not until now.

This hurt, so much she couldn't describe it.

Maybe a revival of their friendship was more incomprehensible than she had thought, had hoped.

She got to her feet, picking up her bag. "I just wanted to be friends again, and to help my friend who is obviously in need of it. Guess that was too much to ask." Without another glance, she left the room, leaving him behind, this time with no intention of coming back or staying.

This time, she left him for good.

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

All she saw was him fall. She was too late.

Far too late.

All she saw was him fall and all she could do was watch.  Watch and assume that Draco had done it.

He'd killed him.

He'd killed Dumbledore.

She pressed a hand over her mouth and choked back a sob, not only for her fallen professor, but for her friend. 

Her lost friend.

Oh Draco, her thoughts screamed in her head.  What have you done?

(Thank you so much for the 100+ reads! :D Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :))