Draco
At breakfast I was sitting at the Slytherin table, but I wasn’t eating. I almost never ate anymore, except an apple here and there along with dinner. No one noticed luckily. I was forcing laughter like always, when I saw him, Harry Potter. I was scared that he might remember last night, but he just walked past me. I let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t remember. All I could think about was how Harry had just been staring at the blood, almost like he wanted to bleed, liked the crimson color. As much as I hated to admit it I was worried. There was something just beneath the surface of Harry Potter, something he didn’t want people to see. Then I saw something, he was chewing on his lip until it bleed. Suddenly I called out “Potter there’s food in front of you stop eating your lip.” Which made Hermione and Ron look at him.
“Bloody hell Harry! Do I need to take you back to Madam Pomfrey?” Ron asks sounding worried.
“No Ron I’m fine. It’s just an unconscious habit.” Potter said shrugging.
Harry
I hadn’t expected Malfoy to call out telling me to stop making myself bleed. Even if that wasn’t exactly what he said. But, it was implied. Why did he care? Why did I feel seen, feel noticed? What was wrong with me? Then Hermione cut in “Wait, what do you mean back to Madam Pomfrey?”
“Harry had blood all over his shirt when he woke up.” Ron replied.
“He had what on his shirt!?” Hermione whisper shouted.
“Mione it’s fine. It was just a nosebleed from last night.” I said trying to run damage control.
“Harry even Madam Pomfrey agreed that it was almost too much blood. If that boy hadn’t shows up you would’ve been unconscious.”
“Wait, what boy?” ‘Mione asked.
“That’s the thing Harry doesn’t remember who it was because he lost so much blood!” Ron replied sounding a little angry.
“I know Ron! I’m fucking scared about it! You know what I was thinking? I was thinking about how easy it would be to make it bleed even more!” I snapped. “There’s something wrong with me.” I whispered.
“Oh, Harry there is nothing wrong with you.” ‘Mione said giving me a sad smile.
“I’ll see you in class.” I muttered walking out of the dining hall and into the hidden garden I’d discovered broken boy in.
Draco
When I saw Harry get up and leave I was worried. “Hey guys, I’m not feeling well I’m going to go lie down.” I told my friends.
“Okay Dray.” Pansy said.
I slipped out of the dining hall and followed Harry to the quiet place. The place where he’d first saw me cry. Even if he didn’t know it was me. Then I heard it the quiet sniffle of someone who’s trying not to fall apart. Someone who’s wrecked but refuses to admit it. “You know,” I said from the opposite side of the wall making my voice sound like it had the last few times we had crossed paths. “It’s good to cry. Bottling emotions only leads to an explosion that you can’t control.”
“I know but I don’t have someone to talk to, not really. My friends would support me but they wouldn’t understand it.” He tells me letting out a tired sigh.
Before I could think better of what I was saying I blurted out, “You could talk to me. Sometimes when you can’t see the person you’re telling, it’s actually easier to say what you need to say.”
There was a stunned silence but then he asked, “How will I contact you when I need to talk?”
“We could leave a letter or message by the tree or on the bench, and we can check each day for it whether it’s asking to talk or a reply.” I say my voice shaking. “The only people who know about this place are Dumbledore, you, and myself.”
“Can we talk now?” He asks me.
“Yes.” I reply listening to him breathing behind the wall at my back.
“When you entered the bathroom and saw me standing there just looking at the blood pouring down my face, I was thinking about how easy it would be to make it bleed more. How I could slide something sharp over my skin and apply pressure. Slide it against my arms, my cheeks, my eyes, my mouth, and my nose. Adding to the gorgeous red color on my pale skin. It was like I was seeing a different version of myself. I haven’t had thoughts like that in a while. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” He asks.
“Honestly, I’m not a psychiatrist but, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you. I think that you are feeling something that a lot of people have felt too.” I tell him.
“Thank you, broken boy.” Harry says after I finish talking.
“Just leave a letter.” I say smiling. “Goodbye, mystery boy.”
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