After -Drarry COMPLETE

Chapter 45

—11 days later—

—Harry POV—

My eyes snapped open, and after a second I realized I was in bed, with Draco by my side. I caught my breath in an attempt to calm down, vivid memories of the Dursley's in my mind.

Carefully, I left the bed, hopefully without waking Draco, and made my way to the bathroom. "Go- cupboard- stay- no meals." Once there, the first thing I did was close the door, and splash my face with cold water. My pulse was in my throat, and my head was pounding. I backed into the wall and sunk to the floor, breathing heavily. "I'll flay you within an inch of your life when the Mason's leave boy." I screwed my eyes shut in a weak attempt to ease the pain, but it only made my spinning head feel worse. My irregular breathing became a thing of minimal focus, as my tears choked me up threatening to fall. "I'm locking you up. ... You're never going back to that school... never... and if you try and magic yourself out—they'll expel you!" I put my hands to my head and hit it against the wall behind me, instantly regretting it. What if I wake Draco? I allowed myself to fall sideways onto the floor and curled into a ball. I inhaled sharply as my tears finally fell, letting out an audible gasp. I quickly covered my mouth. I don't want to wake him, he's been getting less sleep because of me. He deserves a night without my problems.

Why did I agree to meet with Dudley this Christmas? It's a trap. He's going to have Uncle Vernon strangle me. It's not like he's never tried to choke me before. Now I don't even need Uncle Vernon's help to feel like I'm suffocating. My mind lets me feel that all on my own. I eyed the sink, and the drawer right below it, knowing what sits in there. The blade I took back in London. Maybe it can help. Instead of letting tears flow I can let my blood flow. I'll release myself that way. Besides, it's silent. Draco won't be woken by me again. And I don't have to cry like a stupid child, I told myself, reaching to open the drawer.

My fingers ran across the small blade sitting in the drawer. I grabbed it, closing the drawer silently, and sitting up against the wall. I brought a shaking hand to my left wrist, and dragged the blade slowly and lightly. Nothing happened except me feeling the touch of a cold blade for the first time in a month. my next swipe held more pressure, mostly to stop my shaking. It was as though each millimeter passed by the knife could be felt opening individually, forming a trail of broken skin where a rush of color led to beads of crimson. I sniffled, taking a beep breath. I felt relieved and open. I made another cut, followed by another, and another.

After becoming eerily calmed, and having red lines over old scars on both of my arms, I washed the blade and hid it again, before rinsing the blood off and dabbing my small slits with toilet paper, which I then promptly flushed down the toilet. I took another deep breath, grateful to have been able to calm down.

*knock knock*

My head snapped in the direction of the closed door next to me, and I began to panic. He'll see. The one night I sleep in short sleeves, and leave my wand in the bedroom. Fuck.

"Harry?" Whispered Draco through the door.

"Yeah. I'm finishing up," I whispered urgently, turning the sink on and rinsing my hands. After, I turned the light off and opened the door. He stared sleepily, I didn't move or speak.

"May I use the bathroom?" He asked expectantly. I snapped out of my panicked daze.

"Yeah. Yeah... Sorry." I said, moving out of the way. He closed the door behind me and I went back to the room, laying down in my original spot. After around 3 minutes, Draco came back. I turned onto my side, facing away from him.