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He hurt him.
He hurt him.
Draco had hurt his only love. His chosen one.
He held the cool razor to his skin, hoping, begging, for the sweet release of pain. He wanted to feel the same way Harry had. To feel the pain of what he had done. To feel all the hurtful things he’s ever done.
Remembering back to the beginning of the year, he pushed the sharp edge to his arm. This was his only way of going back to all the good moments, before he ruined everything.
It was the first day of fifth year and Draco was excited to be back. He was finally away from the dark halls and the judging looks of his childhood home. Now that Voldemort was back people were moving in and mucking up the place. Everywhere he turned Bellatrix would be telling him of another lesson or his father would be glaring at him for… blinking too much. At least at Hogwarts what Draco did was his own business, besides keeping up appearances that is. This year his goal was to get as close to “The Chosen One” as possible. His father told him to do it. This way Voldemort was always close to the one that mattered most. Harry Potter.
Draco hated himself. Nothing was worse than what he had done. Nothing was worse than what he had to do.
Draco strode gracefully towards the bumbling triad. It was time to put the Dark Lord’s plan in motion.
“Hello, Potter.”
Another cut appeared on his arm. This time blood began to drip near his elbow. Taking care to go as deep as possible, Draco dragged the razor over his arm. Tears began to leak out of his eyes and he sank down onto the floor, leaning against the bath.
“Merlin, how does anyone get this stuff?” Potter groaned.
Draco smirked. “Potions is easy Potter. Let me help you.”
No one understood what he was going through. Everyone hated him. There was nothing left for him to do. No one would miss him. He was the bad guy. He hurt the chosen one. Why did he deserve to live?
Potter smiled as golden light danced around his hair. “You know; you aren’t so bad Malfoy. Why did you always push me away before?”
He pushed deeper into his skin as each new thought entered his brain.
Draco glided into the Great Hall with Pansy at his heels. His eyes were immediately drawn to Harry and he observed the young man eating a roll while talking excitedly to his friends. Draco’s mind focused on Harry’s lips as he licked them, listening to Hermione ramble on about something. The flash of pink was enough to leave Draco wondering where else he wanted it to be. Draco shook the thought from his brain and sat down at the slytherin table.
It wouldn’t be too hard to redeem himself. All he had to do was go lower. All he had to do was cut deeper. All he had to do was punish himself a little more. Through the knowledge that he cut hard enough to bleed and die, he wanted more. He needed to to feel real pain. There was nothing else around except his father’s lighter that he knicked over the summer. It sat in the cabinet beckoning to him.
They were kissing. Draco was pushed against a wall of some corridor. Harry was everything. He was everywhere. He was perfect. He was caressing and running his hands all over Draco and it was amazing. A gasp escaped Draco’s lips as Harry reached under his shirt. Harry used that moment to let tongues intertwine. A harmony that only they understood. Draco was filled with warmth.
All he had to do was hurt himself a little more. Just enough to feel true pain. Just enough to feel what Harry had to go through. He reached out to pull open the door of the cabinet, feeling the cool touch of glass against his skin and grabbed the lighter. It was light in his hands. His father never used such muggle technology but it was a memento from one of his kills. For every one hundred kills, Lucius would take something to remind himself of his achievements. The cabinet was already full of keepsakes, some muggle, some wizard. The lighter was from a young mudblood. She kept claiming her right to be in Diagon Alley but muggles aren’t allowed there, so why should she? Her face flashed over Draco’s mind at the thought. Her piercing scream followed by green light reminded him of where he was.
Pansy had him cornered. “I know what you are doing Draco. If you fall for Potter, things will be really bad. Don’t do this.”
“Pans, it’s not that easy but I can fix this. Don’t worry.”
He deserved another punishment. For watching that girl die and rolling his eyes. For not doing anything. For letting it go on. He deserved something more, something to remember her by.
“You honestly expect me believe that you think Draco actually likes you?” Pansy hissed incredulously. “You’re an idiot Potter. Voldemort told him to talk to you. Voldemort told him to lie. Just be glad that I’m telling you anything.”
Harry’s beautiful green eyes turned to Draco. Hurt shone through them. “Draco. Is she telling the truth?”
Draco looked at Harry, seeing him as if for the first time. “Yes.” He rushed out. “Originally.” Tears fell out of Harry’s eyes at the sound of Draco’s words. “But I promise it’s not like that anymore,” Draco whispered as tears came to his own eyes.
“What was the point then? Was all of this just a job to you? Just doing Voldemort’s bidding? I can’t believe you Draco.” Harry cried out. Now tears were gushing down his cheeks.
“Harry!”
“No Draco. Don’t talk to me. Don’t come near me. Just… just go away.”
Pain flared over his arm. It wasn’t enough. Her life was worth more. She deserved more. Harry deserved more. Draco deserved to hurt, not him. Not Harry, whose life was already too much. He deserved the pain. He deserved constant hurt. He deserved the cruciatus curse. He deserved this.
Pain.
Then silence.
Then nothing.