to be or not to be| sixth year | draco malfoy

the greatest destroyer of all

"i've lost everything i felt for you. you were brutal."
-

The fire crackled in the hearth, the heat doing little to soothe the cold weight in my chest. The pieces of our shattered dorm had been cleared, but the pieces of me—of what I'd done—were harder to collect. I sat there, curled up into myself, trying to still my ragged breathing, but it wasn't working. The guilt gnawed at me like a constant, twisting ache.

Camille and Abigail had stayed silent as I poured out the story of the past hour. The horror of it all, the uncontrollable panic, the words—the spell—that I had spoken in desperation. They were good friends, and they didn't judge me, but I felt their pity, even if they hid it well. It was hard not to, knowing what I'd just done.

"I didn't know what that spell could do. I was just scared. So scared of everything. Of him. Of myself," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I was worried, I was worried about myself, about whether he'd hurt me, and I just... said it. I didn't think about what I was doing."

I wiped away a tear, my fingers shaking.

"I didn't mean to hurt him," I whispered hoarsely, my eyes distant as I recalled Draco lying there, writhing in agony. "I didn't want to hurt him. But when I saw him—on the floor, bleeding... crying—it felt like I was dying. I could hardly breathe... like he was taking all the air with him."

Abigail's voice was soft, an attempt to comfort, but her words only made my anger flare, sharp and raw.

"Maybe it wasn't that bad. You just said it in the heat of the moment."

I whipped my head around, my expression hardening. "No, Abigail. You don't understand." My voice was steady, but there was an edge to it now, a dangerous intensity. "I could have killed him."

Abigail recoiled slightly at my tone, and I immediately regretted it, but I couldn't stop myself. The words were bubbling up, raw, desperate. I had been the one to do this, and it was like a scar cutting deeper with every passing second.

"I... I could have given him my blood," I said, my voice breaking as the weight of that realization hit me again. "I could have helped him. But I was too stupid, too cowardly. I left him with Snape... alone, dying, and now... He'll never forgive me."

The pain in my chest tightened, spreading like a wildfire. I wanted to scream, to throw something, but I felt paralyzed by the guilt. I could feel the cool metal of the necklace against my skin, pulsing softly. I hated it. It was like it could sense my torment, feeding off it, echoing the grief inside me.

Abigail's voice was gentle, as if trying to reach me. "Maybe you could visit him in the infirmary tomorrow? You could bring him some sweets... See if he's okay."

I turned to look at her, my face tear-streaked, swollen. Would he want to see me? After what I'd done to him? But then Camille spoke, her words soft but steady.

"And you could apologize. You need to. Even with everything going on. He's still... he's still Draco."

My heart dropped. Apologize? What could I even say to him? Sorry for almost killing you? Sorry for the spell I cast without thinking? He'd never look at me the same way again.

The thought crushed me. I couldn't breathe again.

And then, like a lifeline, Abigail held up the book—the potions book I'd left behind. The one that had led me to the spell, to this catastrophic moment. I hadn't even realized I'd left it there. My heart sank, knowing it had the potential to do far more damage than I had ever intended.

"And you need to get rid of this," Abigail said, her voice hard, resolute.

I stood abruptly, a jolt of fury coursing through me at the mere sight of it. I snatched the book from her hand, the pages still fresh with the dark instructions I had so carelessly followed. Without hesitation, I threw it into the fire. The pages caught quickly, flames licking at the edges as the ink burned away in moments.