Love or Death || Drarry

Chapter fifteen

Harry didn't go to his next class. He went straight back to his dorm and sat in bed. He knew if he kept up this regime of skipping classes every time he didn't feel like going he would surely get into a lot of trouble. But he also couldn't find it within himself to care. It was at this point Harry seriously started to regret coming back to Hogwarts. He should have just a stayed at Grimmauld place and wallowed in his guilt instead of coming back here. What was he thinking?!

Harry grabs a book off the floor and flings it across the room, it hits the wall and thuds to the ground loudly. Harry blinks up at the ceiling trying desperately to not let the tears escape his eyes.

He thought back to his patronus and how seeing the red stag made him feel. How he felt shame at seeing the creature that was meant to be calming and blue a raged filled red, but he also felt something else underlining the shame, he felt... powerful. His red stag was about three times larger than what it would normally have been if it was blue, it was more defined and detailed and well... scarier, than when it was blue. Harry felt proud of it in a sick sense, but also so incredibly shameful that all his inner hate was manifested into something so real that he didn't even know what to think. He was confused, so confused that he didn't quite know what to do.

If the daily prophet gets their hands on this, I'm doomed.
Harry thinks, but surely other people would be able to create a red patronus too? He would have to ask at dinner later since he wasn't paying much attention. If he decides to go.

Harry sits down on the side of his bed, with his head in his hands. He starts to shake, tears start to fall down his face and he knows what's coming.

"Oh Merlin not now, please not now." his voice comes out shaky and his throat starts to close up as he loosens his tie with suddenly very tingly fingers. He undoes a few buttons, his body was heating up so rapidly he could practically feel the sweat gathering on his back.

Harry's heart was beating so rapidly it feels as if it was about to burst from his chest. He tries desperately to even out his breathing, to stop his heart thumping but he knows by now that nothing he does works. He stands up, almost toppling over since his legs feel like they're about to give out, hands feeling across his bedside table. He tries to get to the bathroom to splash some cold water on his face but before he can his arm swings out erratically and glass next to his bed smashes on the ground. The butterbeer glass.

At this point Harry's sight is dotting at the corners and he sinks to the ground in a pathetic heap. He pulls his knees to his chest and cries into them, trying desperately to ignore the shards of sharp glass around him.

He wasn't going to do that, not here not now.

But the sharp glass is getting more and more tempting and he knows the only way to distract himself from a panic attack is pain.

Don't do it, don't do it.

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Draco skids down the steps to the dorms, a flurry of movements. He didn't exactly know why he was so scared, he had waited down the hall after defence against he dark arts so he could talk to Harry. He had watched the Gryffindor for the rest of the class after he had vaporised his stag. Draco didn't know of any other word to describe the look on the boy's face but distress. Draco had wanted to comfort him, or do something at all because he really didn't like the look on Harry's face one bit. But the Gryffindor had escaped a few minutes after class so quickly Draco couldn't even keep up, and he could hardly yell out for him to stop without drawing attention.