For Lillielle: I hope you like it :)
Also for Ashleigh's Monthly Competition (November) and the Sherlock Competition (A Study In Pink, prompt 17)
WARNINGS: Self-harm
It starts with Potter and Myrtle's bathroom.
When Potter shoots that spell at him, the one that he's never heard before, he's certain that he's going to die. The pain of the cuts all over his body is like nothing he's ever felt before – not even the Dark Lord's Cruciatus compares to it.
But for some reason, the memory of the pain remains. It beats at his brain, pushing into his memory regardless of what he's doing, and no matter how much he tries; he can't get it out of his mind.
In the end, it's really not a choice at all. It's a compulsion, and not one he can beat. Even though it's beating at his mind, he knows he needs to be careful – if he's found out, there will definitely be trouble.
So he doesn't use his wand. Conjuring up a razor is easy – and it's not something that will cause anyone to suspect that there's anything wrong. There are a million reasons why he would need a razor.
He returns to Myrtle's bathroom. He knows she will never tell.
The first slash of the razor is like tasting freedom.
The Dark Lord controls every aspect of his life. With Dumbledore dead and Potter on the run, there's no one left to oppose him, and his powers grows and grows and grows.
There's no one left to pull his attention away from Draco, and the many ways he's failed.
The Cruciatus sessions take place several times a day. If it's not the Dark Lord, Draco finds himself at the end of his aunt's wand – it's not like she's ever put family over the Dark Lord before, and she's definitely not about to do that just for him – and she is possibly worse than their master.
Every move he makes is scrutinized, his parents help as insurance – if he takes one wrong step, he forfeits their lives.
When he returns to Hogwarts, it's the same as always, only this time, it's the Carrows torturing him, and his fellow Slytherins keeping an eye on his movements.
The pain is the only thing that he can control.
The razor-blade slashes grow in number and frequency, the lines of red on his arms reminding him that he's not yet dead. He can feel pain; he still lives – which means that he still has a chance of escaping this hell he's thrust himself into.
And more than that, they prove to him that he's not yet completely powerless. It's his little act of defiance against the Dark Lord, the memory of Potter and freedom all mixed into one. It's his only memory of hope.
In the end, it's those drops of blood that prompt him to tell his aunt that he doesn't recognise Potter. The pain centers him, and gives him the strength he needs.
The Dark Lord is gone, they say, gone forever. He's free.
At least, that's what they say.
It doesn't matter that the Ministry found him innocent, that Potter himself defended him and his family. The only thing the world sees is the mark that stains his arm, and the way that Dumbledore almost died at his wand.
He was proclaimed guilty long before he was ever set free.
The razor comes out again and again and again. It's the strength that it gives him that keeps him going, that pushes him through a day filled with sneering, hateful faces.
It's the feel of blade cutting through skin that keeps the words that will stop his heart from slipping out of his mouth.
It's ironic, in a macabre way. Pain is what keeps him from dying – who would have ever thought that was possible.
The looks never stop, but his reaction to the slashes does. He's been using the blade for nearly two years – his body's grown used to the pain, has started to accept it as a way to survive.
His body has turned against the one thing that keeps it alive.
So he does the only thing that he can – the slashes grow deeper, the cuts grow wider, and he starts to feel once more.
It's enough – until it's not.
It's a vicious cycle, and the only thing he can do is make it more each and every time.
And then he wakes, and it's white that flashes across his eyes.
St. Mungo's, a part of his mind whispers. He has no doubt that he's been found out.
The state of his hand confirms his thoughts. Perhaps the last slash was too much – too deep, too wide. It would have killed him after all.
He wonders who saved him from dying, even as Healers rush about his room and his parents look heartbroken seeing him broken in a way that not even the Dark Lord had managed to do. He explains to them as best as he can, promises them that it's not their fault – never their fault – that he's here.
His mother leaves for the tearoom with a kiss to his forehead, and a promise to be back. When the mass of raven hair pokes into his room, his father follows.
He shouldn't be surprised that Potter's here, he really shouldn't. After all, it's not like there's been any major even in his life that hasn't lead his to the Saviour – why should this be any different?
Only this time, it seems that Potter's decided to apologise. He's blaming himself, of course, blaming the fact that the first cut had come from his wand, and in the end, it had lead him here. He refuses to see the ways in which that curse saved Draco, cannot see that the only reason he's even alive enough to be at St. Mungo's is because of the pain that Potter introduced him to.
He's not stupid. He knows he's going to have to go through therapy with Mind Healers, push his need for pain out of his heart. But unless he does something, Potter will keep on annoying him with his guilt long after the Healers have cleared him and his parents have pushed this even out of their minds.
No, if he wants peace from the guilty Gryffindor, he needs to make him see.
And for the first time since that curse left Potter's wand, he beings to plot.
He will not be the only one who will be seeing Mind Healers.
I hope you guys liked it! As always, please don't forget to drop a review on your way out :)