So Many Secrets.

Secrets Let Out

They finally came after waiting a week.

Quills. Self-writing quills. 

I don't have to have shitty grades on essays anymore.

"Whatcha got there?" Draco asks, peering over my shoulder. I close the box quickly.

"Nothing!"

"Liar. What did you order?"

"Nothing."

He eyes me suspiciously. "You didn't get anything that's like, illegal or anything, right?"

"Draco, I'm eleven. Where am I supposed to get anything illegal."

"Hey, I don't know!"

"Well, no. I don't have anything illegal."

I mean, self-writing quills aren't illegal, right?

Well, I mean, the sleep potions might be, but those aren't here yet.

The House Elf who read everything to me said they'd be here in two weeks, and it's been a week and a half.

Three or four days to wait.

What else am I supposed to do? Every night, I go to sleep, and then I have a nightmare. A stupid nightmare about Uncle. Or when my mum died. But mostly Uncle. Almost always him.

He can't hurt me here.

I'm safe here.

I want to tell Draco.

"Harry... Can I ask you something?"

I nod after shoving the box in my trunk. "Yeah. What's up?"

"Earlier this morning, you... you were screaming."

"You were here?"

He nods. "I was taking a shower. Everyone else was gone. Harry, what was that?"

"Nothing," is my immediate answer.

"You were thrashing in your bed when I came out of the bathroom. That didn't look like nothing. It was something."

"It was nothing, Draco-"

"I thought we were friends!" he says.

"We are!"

"Then why can't you tell me!?"

"Because, Draco! I just can't!"

"Why not!?"

"Because it's stupid, Draco. It's stupid and weird and I'm not risking the first friendship I've ever had- Shit."

He's going to notice that.

"First? You're telling me you've never had a friendship before? Ever?"

I look down at my lap. "No."

"Why not?"

I can either tell him now or not.

You know what, he'll leave me no matter what when he finds out.

It doesn't matter.

He won't understand, I don't want him to, and nothing matters.

"There's something wrong with me," I whisper.

He sits next to me on my bed. "Are you sick or something? Did it make something hurt or something?"

"No... No, it's nothing like that. I... I'm not... Home. It has to do with home."

He gives me a confused look. "You were screaming because of your home?"

"Because of what happens at home... It... It was a nightmare," I whisper.