promises // dramione

chapter one

TW: blood, self-harm

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Draco stared at his arms. One was still his same pale skin tone, reminiscent of his innocence. The other was adorned with the ugliest mark known to man, bringing him back to the horrible reality.

The Dark Mark sat there, tattooed into his skin, looking up at him as if it were taunting him.

You'll never be good enough. All you are is a Death Eater, and it's all you ever will be.

He squeezed his hands into fists, nails digging into palms. Tears streamed down his cheeks as Draco felt his heart burn. He sat on the cold marble floor of the bathroom, knees up against his chest.

It was all too much. The pain, the guilt, the gut-wrenching feeling of never being strong enough to do anything good with his life.

He looked down at his arm again, and his stomach twisted. He had to get that mark out. Even if it killed him, it was the least he could do.

No one would do so much as glance at him anymore with that mark on his arm. Draco had no one to go to; he was alone. All because of that mark. It had to go.

Draco wanted a better life. He wanted to get another chance, at being happy. At loving, and being loved. To make up for all of his past mistakes.

But it would never happen with this monstrosity's ink bleeding into his veins.

He transfigured his book bag into a knife, and held it carefully between his fingers. His hand slightly shook, but he managed to steady it enough to bring it to his arm.

Slowly, Draco began to to cut the mark out. Blood trickled out of every slice, and the pain was brutal. But he continued.

This is what I deserve. I need to go through this pain in order to be forgiven. If I never get this mark out, that'll never happen.

He kept cutting, trying to get all of the mark out. There was so much blood. He began to feel dizzy, but he never stopped. This had to be done.

Eventually, his mind began to become foggier, the blood loss causing him to finally slip into a state of unconsciousness.

But before he completely blacked out, he heard a faint voice in the distance.

"Malfoy!"

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Hermione walked quickly through the corridors, fighting to keep her tears inside until she reached the prefect bathroom.

Ron is such an insufferable prat. He thinks he's so mighty, so special that he doesn't need to do anything anymore. Sure he's part of the golden trio, but so am I. McGonagall had asked us to come back to redo their seventh year, and I know for a fact that she's not going to let us graduate without passing our exams. Making fun of me constantly for wanting to do well on them doesn't help anything.

She swung the door open, and was about to go into one of the stalls when she noticed someone slumped against the wall on the other side of the room.

It was Draco Malfoy.

He didn't seem to know anyone else was there, too preoccupied with something on his arm. Hermione began to walk towards him, trying to see what he was doing. As she got closer, she realized he was holding a knife.

She gasped when she saw one of his arms was covered in cuts and blood, and he seemed to be adding to them.

What is he doing?!

"Malfoy!"

The knife slowly stopped, falling out of his hand. She bent down to look at him.

He had fallen unconscious, most likely due to blood loss, and she could tell that he had some dried tears on his face. His hair was a mess. He was a mess.

And then his arm.

It was almost too bad to look at. She peered at it slightly, heart dropping as she realized what he had been doing.

He was trying to cut his Dark Mark out of his arm.

Horrified, she knew she had to do something. She managed to scoop him up somewhat, and Apparated to the infirmary. Professor McGonagall had given the returning seventh years permission to Apparate inside of Hogwarts, and it had suddenly become very helpful.

Hermione was surprised at how light he was; it took almost no effort to pick him up.

"Oh my! What has happened here?"

Madam Pomfrey came rushing over, immediately levitating Draco's body out of her arms and placing him in a bed.

"I found him like this in the prefect's bathroom. I think he was trying to cut his Dark Mark out."

The healer sighed, running healing spells on him. "And he's done a pretty thorough job of it. He's lost a lot of blood; he'll most likely be unconscious for the next few days. Well, thank you, Miss Granger for bringing him in. You should probably go back to your classes now."

Hermione nodded numbly, taking one last look at the boy in the bed. For some reason, her breath caught in my throat. He looked even paler than usual, almost sickly.

This is not the Draco Malfoy I know.

Something in her heart pulled at that thought. Part of her wanted to forget about this, and focus on graduating, but another, stronger part of her knew she had to help him. He could've died with the amount of blood he had lost. And something about that made her heart shatter.

No one deserves what he just did to himself, no matter what his past.

"Could you let me know when he wakes up?" She asked.

Madame Pomfrey smiled, a bit sadly. "Of course, dear."

Returning her smile, she then turned and left the hospital wing, her mind still stuck on the blonde Slytherin.