Malfoy and Potter (A Drarry fanfiction)

Chapter 4

Draco POV:

Every time I see Professor Dumbledore, a deep feeling of dread rises in my stomach, knowing that by the end of this year, he will be killed. I've been around him multiple times, and he seems so....happy. It hurts me more to say that I'll be killing him. Lost in my thoughts, I find myself in the boy's bathroom, tears filling my eyes. I go into one of the stalls, and pull out....a knife. 

I use this knife as a way to cope with everything that's going on. It's common sense, right? I just fight my pain with more pain to drown out everything else. This knife is also the reason why I wear long sleeves to school everyday, well, besides the fact of- of my dark mark. The very mention of it makes my eyes fill with more tears. Why is it me? It could have been anyone else, why am I the one to kill Dumbledore? I'm such a mess, I wish I could just- end the pain.

I roll up my right sleeve and, taking a deep breath, start cutting. Once I start, I can't stop myself from hurting myself. I stop myself from doing anymore when I see the blood take over my arm. I suddenly snap out of my actions. What have you been doing? I think to myself, look at you, you're a mess. Stop doing this, you blundering idiot!

I get out of the stall, and immediately start washing the blood off. As I do so, my left sleeve rolls back to reveal the reason why I'm such a mess. I'm so weak, thinking that this would help everything. I stare at the mark for a while, regretting my entire existence, when I hear someone's voice. "D-Draco?"

It was Harry Potter. Flustered, I roll both my sleeves so that he can't see anything. "What do you want, Potter?"

"I-I want you to pull up your sleeve," Harry says, with a quiver in his voice. My eyes widen. Did he see my dark mark?

"Not a chance, Potter."

"Why? You've got something to hide to me?"

"N-No," I stare at Harry, who, weirdly, isn't staring at my left sleeve. Instead, he's staring at something behind me.

"Ok, so pull up your sleeve."

I grab my left sleeve and twist my arm so that he can't see my dark mark clearly. He can only see the back of my arm if I show him. 

"Not that arm. Your other arm," Harry says. Wait, what? Didn't he want to see my dark mark. But then it hits me. He wants me to show the arm with my scars. That's why he was looking at something behind me. I left my bloody knife on the side. He saw me cutting myself. Reluctant, I pull up my right arm to see cuts and scars all over my right arm. Harry gasps.

"You did this to yourself?"

"Isn't it obvious, Potter?" I say, gulping nervously. Harry looks so hurt, like he did this to himself.

"Draco..."

I pull down my right sleeve, glaring at him. "What?"

"Why did you do this?" This question hits me like a ton of bricks. Yeah, why exactly did you do this to yourself?

"Well, I just- I have a lot going on," I say. The stupid lump in my throat comes back again.

"It's your dad, right?"

"I think? It's not that, though. I-" WHAT ARE YOU DOING, DRACO? ARE YOU REALLY ABOUT TO TELL HARRY IT? "I just- I guess I've just been feeling depressed lately."

Harry looks at me with an intense look, before scratching his own arm. "Draco...please don't do this. Cut yourself, I mean. It's not worth it. It's never worth it."

"Oh yeah? And why is that, Potter?" I sneer. Harry sighs, before pulling his own sleeve up. I see a few cuts, as well as the scars made form Professor Umbridge, spelling out "I must not tell lies". I look at his cuts for awhile, before Harry starts speaking.

"I regret these cuts. I did them before my sixth year. I hate myself for doing them. They hurt a ton, and I've found better ways to cope with- well- you know," he says, with a trace of disappointment. "Please, Draco. Please stop. We care about you. I care about you." Harry says, wincing slightly. I stare at the ground, before looking at my arm. The cuts seem more sinister now. Yeah, I think to myself. It's not really worth it. I take a deep breath, before speaking in a shaking voice.

"Okay. I'll stop."

Harry looks so relieved, like he just stopped a brutal accident from happening.

"Thank you, Draco. Thank you."

And without a trace of hesitation, he walks out of the bathroom. I look at my arm again, wondering something.

Harry said that- that he cared about me. Was he telling the truth?