When a Mirror Shatters(Drarry Fanfiction)

Chapter One: Unknown Feelings

--Harry's POV--

Harry Potter was having a great day. He got an Outstanding on his Charms essay, which he did (mostly) by himself, Ginny finally broke up with him and there were no hard feelings, and the skies had been perfect for Quidditch practice with his team. There was absolutely nothing that could ruin his night.

He was walking back to the Gryffindor common rooms, contently trying to flatten his wind-ruffled hair, when he realized he had to pee. Badly. He kept humming to himself and turned a corner—only to be facing the boys' lavatory, which he'd been avoiding as of late because it was Moaning Myrtle's new favorite hangout spot. How he got there, he had no idea. It was a funny coincidence, he thought to himself.

"I'm a free man, and I'm smart, and I'm an amazing Quidditch player..." He sang to himself.

--Draco's POV--

Draco's day, well, his whole life, sucked. He had to carry out this evil, murderous plan (for the world's most terrifying, creepy, hated person in existence), just so his family could keep the luxury of living. All the training for the "big day" had him exhausted, plus he failed his Charms essay. His father would hear about that, and not from Draco. He no longer had the will to live. What was the point, he thought, if all one lived for was...living? All he tried to do these days, besides traveling through the Vanishing Cabinet, was to not die. Just for his mother, who had started to care about him lately. However, he made no effort in his task. He ate about an apple a day, no pun intended. Draco never even went to dinner anymore, as he was far to busy to chat with his...people. People were noticing. His only real friend, Pansy, said that she could count every one of his ribs, and proceeded to do so.

So there Draco stood, thinking about all this, and suddenly he couldn't stand it anymore. Everyone else got to lead perfectly normal lives, but he, all because he was big bad Lucius Malfoy's son, had to kill Albus Dumbledore. And so he cried. For the first time in his life. It felt like he was shattering to pieces. Why him? What did he ever do to anyone? Okay, so he pushed and shoved and bullied Potter, the weasel, and the Mudblood daily. But that was expected of him. What other choice did he have? He sat like that, alone, sobbing and banging his hands on the glass of the mirror. He was disgusted with his appearance. He was gaunt, he was pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. His skin lost its pale glow and turned a white, stale color. His hair was matted, no longer gelled back like it used to be. He looked like a corpse. It was revolting.

--Harry's POV--

As Harry got closer to his destination, he heard a voice. Crying, it sounded like. No, scratch that. Sobbing in despair. The mysterious voice sounded a bit familiar. He could just make out the words, "shouldn't be alive." Whoever this person was, it didn't sound like they were going through a small breakup. He slowly entered the bathroom. There, staring at the mirror, with a twisted sneer on his face, was Draco Malfoy.

He almost said something. But he didn't. He watched the frail boy for a while. Malfoy kept glaring at himself. If that stare had been directed at him, Harry would have run. It was terrifying. Malfoy jumped up suddenly. He took his wand off the sink and lifted up his left sleeve. What Harry saw made him gasp.

Malfoy was branded with the Dark Mark.

He stuck his wand on his arm. Then he seemed to think the better of it and pointed out at the mirror, tears staining his cheeks. Harry understood what he was about to do. He would send a hex at the mirror making it break. Then he would take a shard of the glass and use it to cut himself. A loud bang brought Harry back to earth. Malfoy had done it, except every single shard of glass had embedded itself into his face. Harry ran forward and grabbed Malfoy's hand, which was cold and dry. He washed up Malfoy's face and then dried it with a soft towel from the dispenser. Malfoy stayed silent, except for the occasional hiccup, the whole time. Harry got the sudden urge to hug him.

"Do you need a hug?" Harry was baffled at his own bravery.

"Malfoys don't take hugs," he sniffled. Harry doubted he had ever gotten a hug in his life. He didn't care. He stood Drac--Malfoy up and then looked him in the eyes. They were a breathtaking silver-mercury color. He then wrapped his arms around Malfoy's small frame.