take my hoodie ✓

forty | crush

~no pov

The rest of summer was spent with more and more bucket list completions. The two boys managed to drive a car, get drunk in a field, get high in a field, ride a hot air balloon, get a job just to quit after and have a joint birthday party.

The two boys never felt better.

Draco and Harry were having the best summer of their lives. Harry never felt so free and Draco hadn't felt alone in ages. 

Harry had attempted another time, by making a deep slit right under his semi-colon. An actual wrist slit, he thought.

He obviously failed.

This time, Petunia saved him. He was yanked out of the bathtub and plastered and bandaged up. Harry really thought he might pass out from blood loss, but unfortunately Petunia wrapped the bandage so tight that the lack of circulation reduced the chances.

His room was finally searched, by Vernon, and he took away every good thing he owned. Razors, pocketknives, mini blades and even random shards of glass. The Dursley's didn't care about him, not really. They just didn't want to get social services called on them because Harry was bound to end up in hospital sometime soon, again.

And then questions would be asked and the answers found would fuck up the Dursleys for life.

But despite that, summer was going well. The two boys were thriving, and falling in love at the same time. They flirted 'platonically' in hopes the other would realise - well no, it was Draco flirting and Harry not noticing.

But Harry could no longer deny it at all. The kiss and short make-out session proved his attraction. There was no denial left after that.

Harry James Potter was head over heels in love with Draco Lucius Malfoy.

And now it was time to tell his best friends. 

Problem was, they didn't know the side of Draco that Harry did. They didn't know about his childhood, home life and eating disorder, or about his suicide attempt and how he wasn't to blame for being brought up bitchy.

And Harry couldn't explain it either, because it wasn't his place. Yes, Ron and Hermione accepted the silver trio into their trio, thus making a friendship, but Harry knew that admitting a romantic relationship would be different.

The group had made harmless jokes about Draco and Harry's mutual attraction, but it was shut down by both. What would they say if it was true?

Harry couldn't stop thinking, and he knew he had to get out of his head before it shut down or made him do something crazy instead. But he couldn't stop thinking.

An hour later, Harry had gone over to Hermione's, where Ron was waiting, quite drunk. He'd drunk about half, or more, of Vernon's Jack Daniels and was out of his head.

Which is what he wanted.

"Hi guys." He sang. He wasn't so evidently drunk yet.

Yet.

"Hey mate." Ron smiled.

"Hi." Hermione smiled, and patted a spot on her bed, signalling for Harry to sit down.

Once he did, they could smell the strong scent of whiskey on him and sighed. They didn't know much about Harry's inner struggles, because he never talked about it. But they did know he had problems, and that he got over them by drinking.

Well, not got over them. More like, he pushed them down as far as he fucking could and forgot about them. Using alcohol. And vapes, cigarettes, weed and self-harm.