I Learned Your Pulse

"It spoke in my voice."

Draco knew he needed to eat. He wondered when people would realize he wasn't. He'd lost about five pounds, maintaining a lot of weight from the constant water he drank, bitter as it was, because his throat was dry. He knew he was thinner. Looking in the bathroom mirror, he saw his face was thinner and his body was lanky, no longer confident. His skin was as pale as ice, translucent-looking but for the large purple bags under his eyes that had been there since the first day of school, and his hair, normally perfectly styled, was ratty and matted to the sheen of sweat on his forehead. He looked like he'd seen the Grim Reaper.

He sighed and turned on the sink, splashing the cold water on his face and shaking it off. He smoothed his hair back, but it looked even worse. He ran his fingers through it and it looked slightly better. He sighed once more.

He went to change clothes but he found his way blocked.

"You look terrible," Blaise noted, entering the lavatory, the door shutting behind him.

"Thanks," he muttered, moving to go past him.

"Not so fast." He held out an arm to stop Draco, crossing them when he was sure the blond wouldn't leave. "You really look terrible, Draco. What's been going on? You look as if you haven't slept or eaten for weeks."

"I haven't. Now, if you'll excuse me -"

"Why not?" Blaise demanded, stepping in front of him again.

He shrugged. "Food is unappealing and dreams are the same. If you don't mind, I'll be going now."

"Why are they unappealing -"

"What's the point of eating if you're empty anyway?" Draco snapped, his temper flaring. "What's the point of sleeping if you're tired when you wake?"

"By that logic, what's the point of living if you're just going to die?"

Draco paused and considered.

"To stop the people that never can die."

Blaise grimaced. "The only 'immortal' person is dead, Draco. Dead."

"So you're telling me it's better if we all just die off and leave the world uninhabitted by sentient life?" Draco shot.

"No!"

"Then we live for a reason."

"We eat and sleep for a reason, man," Blaise urged him. "Don't kill yourself slowly."

"That's what you were just arguing!" Draco spat, clenching his fingers into fists.

"Nobody wats you to die, mate -"

"Liar."

Draco put as much emphasis into the word as he could, and hissed it to create the effect of barely-concealed power. And then, when Blaise looked startled and worried, he realized he'd sounded just like Voldemort.

He shoved himself around Blaise and left him standing stunned in the bathroom, hurrying to his clothes.

When he was dressed in his suit, as was normal, he felt better. It hid some of the weight loss, but he supposed there was nothing he could do to hide the bags under his eyes. The other boys in the dorm were all still sleeping, and the light outside the window was nonexistent. He left the room for breakfast, which he'd stare at and end up eating one bite of.

The halls were empty. He was early, much earlier than he normally was. The early-morning feel wouldn't leave his toes, making him trudge along. He found it funny that he hadn't been sleeping sicne the first day of school, and yet Hermione couldn't go three weeks without it. He still hadn't slept -