Wednesday At Ten

Chapter 5~Spicy undertone

He had to do this.

Harry began to saunter over to the bathroom, but soon quickened his saunter into a hurried stride because he was certain everyone was staring at him, like they knew what the chosen one was about to do. However, not one student had so much as glanced his way.

As Harry's stride transitioned into a panicked run, he was sure he saw a flash of blonde in his peripheral vision. Although this didn't lessen his haste, if anything the Gryffindor's dash increased. He couldn't survive knowing all the... stuff, the food, the poison he just ate was still occupying his growling stomach.
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When Harry reached the bathroom, he promptly checked the stalls for any students, then locked himself in the end stall and got on his knees. Without hesitation, Harry stuck two fingers to the back of his throat to make himself gag. He would have just used a spell but he didn't know one that was un-harming yet.

To his dismay, Harry struggled for a minute to get the food up. It's not like he hadn't done this before, although the last time he did it was only because Malfoy has cast a nausea charm on Harry's sandwich at lunch. He remembered it vividly, it was horrible. Although vomiting purposefully was a lot harder and disgusting then he had remembered.

Finally, the Golden boy had successfully emptied his stomach, he had never felt better and never felt worse at the same time. For a while he just sat there in the cubicle, his back pressed against the stall wall. It didn't take long for a pair of salty tears to race down Harry's cheeks, his wrist itched immensely and the urge to scratch at it and cut again was rapidly creeping up on the broken boy and taking over his wounded mind.

I can't do it again, I promised Hermione, promised her, promised, promised, Harry repeated himself for comfort, but unfortunately it only made him need the pain more. Fuck it. Harry gave in and hastily grabbed his wand from his robe pocket, then without thinking cast a minor cruciatus curse on his left wrist, resulting in him having to muffle screams of agony.

"Potter?" A voice spoke softly through the door.

Harry was shocked, he hadn't heard anyone come in. He sobbed, "Please... just leave me alone. I-I want to be alone."

"Potter, whenever I've been in this situation and told someone 'I want to be alone', I never really meant it."

It was Malfoy.

"Well... I'm not you Malfoy! So leave me alone." Harry spat to the Slytherin though his tears.

Draco sighed, "Could you at least unlock the door?"

There was a long eerie silence, followed by the harsh sound of a lock clicking. Draco cautiously creaked open the door and he was horrified by what he saw.

Blood stained the floor like a it had just rained wine and Harry's wrist was twitching uncontrollably, no doubt due to an unforgivable spell, it pained the blonde's chest with the knowledge or how easy he found in to identify post-unforgivable symptoms these days. Draco's stormy eyes raked over the Gryffindor's face, raw with tears, which had made his circular glasses slightly wet and steamed up. The blonde felt his heart falter as he saw Harry's bottom lip tremble in pain and fear, his distant objection to the feeling still making his shoulders tense.

"Jesus Christ Potter! What did you do!?" Malfoy had not expected to see such a gruesome scene.

"You said you would leave, Malfoy..." Harry's voice was quiet and sombre now, like he didn't have the energy to be spiteful anymore.

"No I didn't. We need to get you to Mrs Pomfrey Ha- Potter," Malfoy corrected himself.

"No no, please! She will make it a big deal!"