REDEMPTION: A Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger Bro-tp

Chapter 7: *Black Marble Breakdown*

A/N: so this was the chapter that i was talking about :)))  (im really proud of it and would appreciate a vote ;) It's a bit longer than my more recent ones, but it's probably my favorite chapter so far.

I'm publishing this chapter in honor of a friend who's going through a rough time right now 

be strong

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Draco apparated into the kitchen. The instant his feet found the black tile of the Malfoy manor, he began to sob, and his legs gave out. His back slammed against the cabinets and he slid to the floor, crying all the while. He cried for a long time, and for many people.

He cried for George and Fred, he cried for Harry, he cried for Hermione and the children she couldn't have, he cried for Snape, he cried for his parents, he cried for Mrs. Weasley, he cried for James and Lily Potter, the parents they never got to be, he cried for the unloved child known as Voldemort, he cried for Cedric, he cried for himself. He cried as the pain of old memories re-surfaced, lashing at his heart, leaving it tender and bleeding.

And when he was finally done, when he had no more tears, and he was absolutely exhausted and emotionally drained, he lay with his cheek against the cold tile, thinking. He could not have another mental breakdown, and especially not so close to the wedding. He had to get it together. He had promised George, and more importantly, he had promised himself.

Draco sat up and drew his knees up to his chest, took a shuddering inhale, and tried to organize his thoughts. He had no idea what time it was, so that was the first order of business. He pulled himself up and looked, through his puffy eyes, at the clock. 2 in the morning. He should have been asleep. But he wasn't, and he didn't know what to do with himself.

Suddenly, he remembered what his mother would do. Whenever Narcissa was stressed or unwell, she would take a bath. She would enchant the water to smell good or produce bubbles, and while Draco didn't know how to any of that, a hot bath would help him. Besides, he missed his mother. A bath would remind him of the times he was younger and she would bathe him, casting spells to make the bubbles form different shapes for him.

Draco walked up the long staircase to the bathroom, and ran the water until the black marble tub filled with steaming water. Then he stripped and got into the tub, welcoming its warm, nostalgic embrace. He hadn't realized he missed his mother so much. He slipped under the water, letting it fill his ears and block out all the sound, block out the world.

He could drown himself, he thought. Open his mouth and let the water rush in to fill his lungs, drift into the darkness, be at peace at last. His heart pounded. What would it be like? He could be free, no more unhappiness, no more regret. No more pain, no more hurt. He parted his lips.

Draco re-surfaced suddenly, gasping for air, coughing. He couldn't. Bathwater splashed against the sides of the black-marbled tub. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he sat in the water, shaking all over. Draco was scared, scared of how close he had come to the edge. He thought he was past that. The bath no longer had its appeal, so Draco rose from the tub and stepped out, wrapping himself in a towel, still shaking.

He dried himself off and changed into his pajamas before padding into his parents room. He had not been in it since Narcissa and Lucius were in the Manor and had called him in to discuss what might happen. He had sat on the bed between them, as if he was a little boy with night terrors who needed his mommy and daddy, and they explained to him that they would likely go to Azkaban, even though Draco knew what would happen. He had cried, and hugged them both tight. They might have been on the wrong side of things, but they were his parents, and he loved them.

The memory faded, and left Draco, alone, stroking the black silk sheets, aching for his parents. A few tears trailed down his cheek and onto the bedspread. "I miss you," he whispered, before sliding underneath the sheets and falling asleep, calling out in the night for things that weren't there.