A/N: I don't own the characters nor do I make any profit
He had never thought that he would've been one of the persons who would do this kind of stuff, yet here he was sitting in the middle of the forbidden forest holding a pocket knife. Watching crimson tears flow from his wrist.
|Who would've thought| He snickered.
No one would suspect that the Gryffindor poster boy was a cutter.
He was meant to be perfect, to save the world.
But he only held on for the sake of them, if not for the fact that Voldemort wasn't death yet he would've off-ed himself already.
He watched yet another drop fall on the grass bellow his feet.
It was a sunny day, but not many people dared to go into the forbidden forest.
He grabbed the knife tightly in his fist determined to make more tears flow.
Pushing the blade in to his skin for the third time, making yet another red line appear.
This was something he had control over.
This was HIS to decide no one else's.
His anger made the cut deeper, more tears were dripping down his hand.
It didn't hurt. Not like he once thought it would.
It made him feel better, like all the worries in the world flowed out at the same time as his blood did.
He liked it here. No one was there to bother him asking about the upcoming battle or asking for him to go out with them.
Here he could be himself.
"Time's almost up Potter.. Snape's coming out of the castle, probably looking for you." Draco said lazily leaning against a tree.
Harry slowly walked over to the small lake and washed his arm.
He didn't like the cuts to be healed by a mere spell.
To him they were a way of living. He wanted to be able to see them.
He pulled out some bandages and wrapped them around his arm.
Having finished he grabbed his bag and walked up to Draco.
Not turning to look at him "thank you" was the only thing he whispered before walking past him and towards the now searching professor.
Draco watched Harry making his way to Professor Snape. He saw the man grab Harry's good arm and drag him inside the castle.
He was probably the only one who really knew what was going on with the boy who lived.
And though not many would understand, he did.
He just hoped he was there when Harry broke down one time too many.
Putting his hands in his pockets he pushed himself off and slowly strolled out of the castle.
Time would tell..