Might seem a little fast but that's how I wanted it. I did use one line from a different story in here.
The waters of the river of the Forbidden Forest were deep, too deep for any mortal, wizard or giant to touch the bottom without drowning. Strong currents sucked you below the surface to a watery grave that held fast and never let your body go.
It was there against the bank that Hermione watched at the deepest part of the river, and it was there that she decided to take her life.
He'd cheated, bedded another, while they were still together. Then he'd had the nerve to lie to her face the next day about what he'd done. When she'd opened the door that night and seen. She'd seen! A memory embedded in her very mind for always and eternity. Something she could never erase no matter the spell. She'd always remember. Always. She just didn't want to live with that.
Drowning was easy: you just jumped into the water and never came up. Simple. Precise.
Why live a life you don't want? Why dwell on things that will scar you forever and always? Why spend your time alone and forgotten?
Jumping would be easy. Keeping away the urge to resurface would be difficult.
The bloody cuts on her wrists, fresh from mere hours before, could still be felt with surprising pain. It had not been two days since she began to cut, and already that had put thoughts of suicide clear in her mind.
Life is difficult. Death is simple.
Draco had always hated forests. Too many creatures lurking in the dark for his liking. You always had to be on your guard. He'd had enough of that during the years of the war.
But there was one thing about this particular forest Draco enjoyed. Though they were terribly deadly, even for a wizard or giant, he'd always thought the rush of the waters of the forests large river were soothing to the nerves. But his most favorite spot to stay at was the deepest part of the river-right near the center of the forest.
He entered the clearing, shocked at the sight before him. Hermione Granger-annoying, crazy, to nosy, Head-Girl-was jumping off the side of the rocks-not ten feet above the river-towards utter death.
For a split second he had not any idea what to do. Let the Mudblood die? It would certainly give him one less person to be bothered with. Go after her? Why should he?
But he ran to the edge anyway, just to see if he'd imagined it. But the imagine disappearing fast was unmistakable. Her hand and head disappeared below the water, and that was all the proof he needed.
Draco had no idea what he was doing. One moment he stood alone on the rocks, the next he was plummeting to his death after Granger, muttering a spell for air just before he dipped below.
He had no idea what was possessing him to follow the Mudblood to his death, but a force bigger than him or anyone was pulling him down, down into the darkened waters, looking for a girl already gone.
Hermione didn't want to let her breath out. She wasn't ready. It was stupid to jump into a river like this, because of one boy. A boy!
Now she was going to die because of a horrible mistake. She'd drown down here and no one would ever know what happened.
She'd been wrong. Life was hard. Death was terrifying.
And then she saw something as her breath ran out. A boy with platinum blond hair and terribly pale skin appeared in her vision.
Then all went black.
Draco's arm locked around her chest, pulling her up with him, begging every God from any country or religion or myth to give him the power to break the current and get back to the surface.
The stories people had said were true-no spell could pull you out of that hell. They were both going to drown now.
What had driven him to throw his life away so rashly when he knew the consequences even before jumping?
He knew the answer. It bit at his tongue like a snake. The feelings he'd been having since he laid eyes on her that first year. Cutting remarks hiding his real feelings. A crush turning into a love that could never be.
And now he was going to die for that sin. Everything he had wasn't enough to get them out and he was sure he was holding a dead body by then.
And then it happened; no one could've explained it, especially him. Somewhere inside of him he found the willpower to push on, out of the forceful currents, up towards the surface. He felt his breath running thin, and wondered if they would just die anyway. .
He broke surface, gasping lungful's of air he desperately wanted, dragging Hermione's limp body to the shore a few feet off. He desperately wanted her to wake, remind him he almost committed suicide to save her.
Dropping to his knees on the sand, the Gryffindor Princess held fast in his arms like a child as he set her on the ground, checking for a pulse.
Draco knew very little on how to save someone's life. No spells came to mind, and he knew even less on how to do it the muggle way.
He pushed his lips against hers, parting, and breathed into her deeply. She tasted wonderful, but there was another time for that. He did it again, always checking for a pulse-an action he found necessary. A third time-he checked her pulse.
10 seconds. Nothing.
30 seconds. Nothing.
45 seconds. Nothing.
52 seconds.. . . . . . something.
His heart nearly jumped from his chest. Again he gave her air, and the faint heartbeat grew strong. 3 more times. Four more times. . .
Her eyes fluttered open as he leaned away, and she gasped, pain shooting through her as she coughed up water, meeting cloudy gray eyes-clouded with concern, not tears, she noted.
"Draco," she rasped, voice raw. No, I died. This shouldn't happen. No, I wanted to die! But she remembered the utter fear of looking death head on. Correct?
"Hermione." His voice was soft but his expression was angry. Neither took notice that he used her real name. "Just what were you doing!? That river's deadly! You should be dead! Why on earth-"
"Why aren't I?" Her head swam.
His cheeks colored a faint pink, but too light for her to notice. "Well it wouldn't have been to kind of me to just let you throw away your life."
"Ha! You? Kind? That's very funny Draco!"
That's it. "I did! You know why? Because I didn't want to watch you die Hermione! Why on earth would you need to throw away your life?"
She stopped at that. "Because there's nothing left to live for."
"Stupid Mudblood. You know your life really doesn't look too traumatizing."
She pursed her lips. "Why live with regrets?"
There's the key question for him right there. Why live with regrets? "Because everyone deserves the right to live."
"You don't sound like the Death Eater I know."
He shrugged. "Whatever Granger." He stood, leaving her on the ground. "I must be going." There goes quiet and peaceful. He turned on his heal and left the wet, shivering Gryffindor on the ground, wonder in her eyes, fear in her heart.
What the hell was that?
Draco laid down in his Head-Boy dorm that night, separated from Hermione's room by two staircases. He was tired and drained and confused.
You saved Granger! Saved her! What's the matter with you! She's nothing! You should have left her to drown. His mind was having a fight with itself.
But she didn't know what she was doing. She mustn't of! She's practical! Not suicidal!
She might be.
His mind stopped. Was she? Normal people don't jump into killer waters. Sane people don't try to drown. Loving people don't have cuts on their wrists.
Something has changed.
Something is not the same.
She'd gone from sane to insane.
And he couldn't get his mind off of it. What drives a girl like Hermione over the edge? What can drive someone like her to total insanity?
He couldn't take it anymore. Slipping lightly from the covers of his bed, he walked across the floor without worry of waking the girl across the hall, opened his door, descended his staircase, walked quietly up hers and froze at the door. He hesitated, unsure if he should open the door or not.
He did anyway.
Just a hair, wide enough for a single eye to see through to her bed. She didn't lay there peacefully like he'd been praying without hope. She tossed and turned, whipping her head form one side to another, like she was having a nightmare. In the gleam of the dim light of the moon he could see perspiration dripping down her face.
He didn't know what to do. Stand there and watch? Act? Help her? Leave her? Why should he care? Up till he saved her form suicide earlier he'd never looked twice at her except to make cruel remarks. Now he cared enough to ponder whether to help her or not? Was he completely insane?
She screamed-more a cry of angst than fear. And in an instant he knew he had to find out what was wrong. Everything else-like common sense-flew from his mind.
He walked briskly into the room, sitting quickly on the edge of her bed, grapping her flailing arms, and pinning them at her sides as he watched the sweat slide down her face.
"Granger! Granger! Bloody hell Hermione listen to me!"
Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared into the smoky eyes of Draco Malfoy.
Why was he in her room on her bed holding her arms at her side!?
His grip loosened ever so slightly. "Yes Granger. I thought it might be a good idea to make sure you hadn't hung yourself or something."
Her eyes blazed. "Why would you even care? You've never cared before you saved me from drowning!" Something clicked inside her mind. "Wait. Why did you even bother saving me?"
Silence. He let go of her, standing and moving a few feet from her bed, nearly to the door.
"I don't know Granger." His voice was quiet as he considered her question. How could he ever answer?
"Then why did you bother?"
"I don't know anymore."
Silence stretched again. Hermione laid on her bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark at nothing. Draco stared at her.
She seemed fragile, broken, unusually quiet and worried. Maybe even scared or hurt. It wasn't Hermione. It was the ghost she'd become.
"What made you jump anyways Granger?"
"You jumped. No one-especially you-is stupid enough to get near the edge Hermione. You. Jumped. Its simple as that."
"No its not Malfoy. You of all people will never understand."
"Try me Granger. My dad was a death eater and now he's in Azkaban. My mother's dead. I have more problems than most people."
She bolted upright, done with this. "You really want to know? Fine Malfoy." She jumped from bed, in clothing he would've never expected-shorts shorter than something he'd ever expect her to wear and a tank top he hadn't noticed earlier-he'd been paying hardly any attention to her clothing. His eyes followed her body's curves for a moment before being jolted back to the present problem by her raging voice closer to him than he'd noticed-not an arms length away.
"Ron cheated on me! Okay? He slept with someone else okay Draco! He cheated on me and then lied to my face even when I caught them! He never cared about me okay! I don't know why I wasted my time living like this but I'm done! Saving me wasn't a favor Draco! Yes maybe it was suicide. Yes maybe it was stupid but it would've taken this away! I wouldn't be regretting every day since then now if I was dead!"
He had no words. He just stared at her. Now that had never crossed his mind as being the answer. He'd never imagined Weasel being that low. He didn't know what to say to her.
She glared at him, then turned away, walking quickly back to her bed and falling onto it, hiding beneath covers. "Leave Malfoy. You don't need to bother me anymore."
But he did. He felt almost. . .bad for her. And being Draco Malfoy, the Draco Malfoy, having him care for another human being was h-u-g-e.
He sat back down on her bed. For several seconds there was no sound but Hermione's near silent sobs.
"Don't waist your time dwelling on that pathetic excuse for a person Hermione. Its not even worth it."
Her head whipped around. "Yes it is! I spent most of my life falling in love with him! You can't just tell me its not worth it! Those are years I'll never be able to take back!"
"But you're going to let a cheating snake get the best of you?"
"He's not getting the best of me!" But her voice quivered. No matter how much she hated him, despised him, loathed him, a part of her knew he was correct. She was letting it take over her whole life-all because of one stupid boy who cheated.
"Sure Granger. That's why you've sunk this low."
"I. Haven't. Sunk."
"Then why are you still crying over him." He had no reply, but hid her head in the pillows again.
He ran his fingers through his hair, staring at her then the wall in front of him. "There are five stages of depression Hermione. Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Do you think you'll ever get to the last one this way?" His voice was soft and almost, almost, kind.
She glanced up. His eyes were away from her. "I don' know." Why was she being so open with him?
He averted his eyes back to her face. "Its time you find out Hermione. Dwelling like this will only kill you."
He was done. There was nothing left to say to her. He turned and started walking away.
"Malfoy. . Draco," she called behind him, sitting up in her bed. He looked back, surprised to hear his first name. "Thank you."
He was surprised more so. "You're welcome. . .Hermione."
He turned from her and didn't look back.