I am damaged//drarry

chapter 6

A week has passed sense Draco had that wonderful catch up with Potter. The school is still talking about yet another fall out with the golden trio but this time seems lot more serious. They haven't made up in the week that has past so it's definitely more serious.

Draco hasn't been cruel to himself this week either, but the pressure was rising and he felt his head would expolde, his mask would brake, then everyone would see the mess Draco Malfoy really was. He would tear down the remaining shreds of his family name and bring more shame to his already broken mother.

So that night, Draco stayed up until he was the last human awake in the common room, waiting until he could leave without being questioned. Once the room had been emptied and the only sounds were the dying fire sparks and his own breathing, only then did the young Slytherin stand to make his leave. Draco walks through the portrait and into the hallway, from there he lets his feet guide his body to the place he knows all too will.

The staircase was hell. It was such a cruel climb to get to the top. But it was always worth it, everytime Draco comes here, the pain goes away. The tired boy pushes open the hard door to see a sight he didn't think he'd ever have the chance to see.

The golden boy, THE golden boy sitting on the cold floor, leaning against the wall that wrapped around the balcony, only in his school shirt (top two bottons undone) and school pants, holding a firewhisky bottle, staring up at the night sky. Of course Potter's here when Draco less wanted him.

Draco looked like a deer caught in headlights, glaring at the Gryffindor, wishing for him to implode from the amount of heat in his glare.

Instead of imploding like he wanted him too, Potter's head slowing began descending from looking up at the stars until he made eye contact with with Slytherin's cold grey ones.

"Hey Dray," Potters voice was raspy, sounding like has over-worked it, "whatcha doing up here at this time?"

Potter had a dumb little smirk on his face saying 'I am the king of comedy right now' but the only funny about this situation was how wasted he was. Draco only now noticed that it wasn't a singular bottle of fire whiskey but about half a dozen?!

Instead of voicing this knew found information, all Draco said was "Can I join you?"

Potter looked up at Draco, his eyes dilated from the amount of alcohol he's consumed in the evening, that dumb smirk going into a grin on his dumb face, "is the Draco Malfoy asking Me, the golden boy if he could sit down?"

This statement only cause Draco's glare to harded while looking down his nose at potter, "if I knew I would have to deal with a drunken child, I would've given the Irishmen the firewhisky."

"I am not a child arsehole, I am 18 years old!" As if he was trying to prove his point, Potter held up all his fingers only to realise that he only has 10 fingers.

"Whatever," Draco slid down the wall and was trying to get comfortable on the cold stone floor, Potter pulled out a box that Draco recognize from his in the muggle world, "didn't anyone tell you that you could die from those things, Potter?"

With the cigarette between his fingers, the golden boy gave his fingers a small flick to rid the ash, "Obviously no one told you that if you leave yourself bleeding out in an old charms room, you could die Malfoy?"

Draco could feel all the blood drain from his face, making his already pale complexion look ghost like 'Potter knew? How could he? What if he told a teacher, what if he told Pomfrey?' Slowly, Draco truned his head toward the druken bastered.

Through gritted teeth, Draco managed to get only 8 words out 'I don't know what your talking about, Potter."

"Oh please, how did you think you got to the hospital wing, from a classroom, on the other side of this god damn castle?" Almost to prove his point, Potter slapped his palm against the hard stone brick, only to wince and cradle his stinging hand in his lap.