Drarry Oneshots (𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆)

Begging for Death

Top!Harry

Bottom!Draco

Author: GoldFrostbite13 (on ao3)

TW! cutting, self harm, blood , injury , heavy BDSM, murder, masochist Draco

________________________________

Copious amounts of golden steam rose from eight different cauldrons, making everyone's eyes water. Throughout the dungeon, each pair of students squinted through the shimmering haze, carefully mixing the ingredients of nearly finished Annoyance Draught.

It was a mark of Snape's overwhelming hatred for Harry that he had partnered him with Draco Malfoy; each teenager felt that they were the ones being punished the most. Between grinding porcupine quills and juicing Withered Cacti pods, the two glared with intense loathing at each other and snapped whenever one of them showed the faintest sign of messing up.

"It's four teaspoons, not three, you blithering idiot," Malfoy said sharply, batting Harry's hand away before he could add more quill.

"Maybe if you'd quit shouting at me for more than two seconds, I could focus!" Harry shot back. He threw an angry glance at Snape, whose lip curled in response. Unwilling to lose house points for unnecessary talking, Harry hissed his next words under his breath.

"You're a right pain in the ass, you know that?"

"Not my fault you're dim as a troll."

"Git."

"Imbecile."

Despite their bickering, the students had almost finished producing a half-decent Annoyance Draught. It wasn't the exact shade of crimson the instructions indicated, but maroon was close enough. The last step required a precise alternation of sprinkling cayenne pepper and stirring, together with a gradual heating of the cauldron.

"Do the flames, Potter," Malfoy commanded, rolling his robe sleeves up. "You'd only wreck this bit."

Muttering profanities under his breath, Harry reached beneath the cauldron as Malfoy carefully performed the last step. As soon as Malfoy finished, Harry extinguished the fire with a flick of his wand, and the potion's surface immediately calmed, the steam's flow ceasing.

Perspiration had gathered on Malfoy's brow, and he wiped it off impatiently with his bare forearm, slightly mussing his blond hair. As he reached for a flask to pour the potion in, Harry caught a glimpse of his arm. The inside of Malfoy's left forearm was wildly crisscrossed with raised scars, some redder and newer than others. Harry's eyebrows shot up into his hair; Malfoy had been looking more wan and depressed lately, but harming himself? It didn't seem very Draco-Malfoy-ish of him.

"Malfoy, what's going on?" Harry said in a low, calm voice.

"What do you mean?" Malfoy replied, exasperated, as he put a stopper in the potion. His pale grey eyes met Harry's green ones briefly, then he realized what the Gryffindor was looking at. Making a sort of strangled noise, Malfoy quickly yanked down his sleeves and made to carry the flask to the professor's desk.

"Malfoy!" Harry said insistently, but the Slytherin kept his mouth in a tight line as he swept away. The bell for lunch rang not long after that, and Malfoy came back to their shared station to collect his school things, uncharacteristically saying nothing and avoiding Harry's eyes.

Part of Harry wanted to leave the matter alone, but the jarring image of Malfoy's carved, red-lined skin had burned itself into his brain. Propelled by a strong curiosity, Harry hurried out of the classroom after his arch-nemesis, ignoring Ron and Hermione's shouted inquiries.