Chapter One

A cold November wind whistled through the bare trees, reminding Scorpius where he was. He looked around at the others, their distant expressions resembling his own. All of them were covered in soil and blood. If they were going to have any slim chance of surviving, it was imperative that they leave immediately.

"Let's go." He said, kicking a pile of leaves to cover the large patch of agitated dirt. "To the lake."

The other three boys, their names unimportant, followed him without complaint, too afraid to look back at the scene. It was a full moon, and any number of strange things could happen. With the night to hide them, they scrubbed themselves in the chilly waters of the Black Lake, but the smell still burned in their noses. Scorpius was taking extra care to take the dirt from his shiny black oxfords when one of the boys came up to him.

"Do you think...?"

"No. The ground will be frozen in a matter of weeks, maybe even days. Once the snow falls any trace will be gone."

"But they know things."

"No one can know if no one tells, am I right?"

The boy nodded but his face showed he was no less concerned. Not that Scorpius could blame him. "I can handle everything, don't worry about it. We did what we had to do."

"You're right. Okay, yeah, we'll be okay."

Hopefully he was right.

The sound of their shoes bothered him, so he made everyone take them off. Thankfully they weren't all in Slytherin; four missing boys from one house would have been suspicious. They were not his friends, just people he'd run into at the wrong time. He was adamant about them not being able to talk to one another after that night, for it might arise suspicion. Paranoia was not something he dealt with well, and he tended to go to extremes to avoid anxiety.

"Remember, if you just keep your mouths shut, nothing will happen." He said before they all separated. A couple of them were only fifth years, and they were trembling, he could see it.

"I-I can't get expelled, forget that, I can't go to Azkaban, do you know how horrible-"

In one swift movement Scorpius had grabbed the kid's neck and slammed him against the wall, choking him. Shoes dropped from the boy's hand, clattering to the floor. "Shut up. Would you like us to go outside and dig another hole?"

"Malfoy, stop, before someone comes by."

Without taking his eyes off of the boy, Scorpius let go of him, letting him slide to the floor gasping for air. With a nod to the others and a curt, "Evening Gentlemen," he turned and headed down a hallway. He was shaking, but there was no time for that.

After walking what felt like a mile, Scorpius reached a tapestry that hid a pathway down to the Slytherin common room. There was no way he could just walk down the main steps, now, was there? He hadn't composed himself enough to be able to come up with a good enough lie for being out this late, and in his current state he wasn't in the mood to speak with anyone.

He shimmied his way behind the drapery, climbing up on a small ledge so his feet wouldn't be seen. Letting his hand run over the bricks, he felt for one with a softer texture than the others, and pressed it with his index, middle, and ring fingers in the shape of a triangle. The bricks moved aside in a fashion similar to that of Diagon Alley, only with a smaller opening.

Please-

Scorpius froze, one foot inside of the passage. After a few minutes of silence he climbed in the rest of the way, and with heart pounding, waited for the bricks to go back to normal before illuminating the way with his wand. That voice…

No. He couldn't think about it. He could never thing about that voice again, or what had happened. With hands literally washed clean of the incident, he needed to just forget about it. Only there was still something he needed to attend to, before things got out of hand. Once that was done, everything would be okay.

That night he didn't sleep.

Every creak in the walls, every splash of water against the window, made him jump with fear. It was like he had never left the woods. The wind was still tousling his hair around and saturating the surrounding air with the stench of blood and grime. A few times he almost got sick. By the end of the night he had curled in on himself, staring a hole into the green and silver curtain around his bed. He was not brave. Slytherin was not known for the bravery of its students. Scorpius was smart, crafty, clever, and at times vicious. But never brave. He did not have a strong heart. Deep down he yearned to be comforted, but knew that could never be. And so he would suffer in silence, driving himself into madness. Perhaps not. The lack of sleep was making him delusional.

"Eat some food, Draco."

Scorpius looked away from his empty plate to meet the eyes of the girl he'd been fooling around with lately. Everyone was calling them a couple and he just allowed it. Draco?

"What?"

"I said, eat some food Scorpius. They have black pudding today, I know it's your favorite."

Blood. "I hate black pudding."

"Oh." She looked nervous, but then again she always did when she spoke to him. Like she was scared he'd snap and hit her or something stupid like that. "There's sausages as well-"

"Could you stop talking for a bit?" it came out harsher than he'd meant it, and when he saw the look on her face he felt bad. Time to turn on a bit of charm. Half-heartedly, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him on the bench. His lips went to her cheek, and in her ear he apologized for being so grumpy, told her he'd had a bad night's sleep without her next to him or some bollocks like that. She ate it up, just like they always did. When she wasn't looking he watered down his pumpkin juice with half a flask of firewhiskey. No comfort would come from half-wit girls kissing his boots, eager to become the next Mrs. Malfoy. Their affection was never for him, but for his money, no doubt.

The day went by in a blur. It was filled with voices, the burning in his throat, the sick that rose in his mouth every time there was an empty seat in one of his classes where he hadn't noticed one before. Shadows in the dark corners of the room grew eyes, and masked faces with tears drawn on them.

Why, please-

Scorpius was good at playing off his drunken state. On many occasions he'd gotten drunk before dinner with his parents, and because he didn't want to disappoint them, they couldn't know the condition he was in. His words were as eloquent as ever, his stride sure, but his mind was a completely different situation. Inside there was chaos, a mixture of misery and emptiness, fear and anger, hysteria.

Later, when the sun had fallen and the shadows left their corners and consumed the entire castle, Scorpius went for a walk. His hands, they were dirty once more. The blood wouldn't come out of his fingernails; it was a part of him now. A constant reminder of what he had done. He walked into the first bathroom he found, scrubbing and scrubbing at his skin until it broke and his own blood spilt forth.

When she found him, he was huddled up beneath the sink, scratching at his red, raw arms and crying. Rose Weasley hadn't been having such a great day, either.

The day before, she'd been chatting with Clark Gurney out on the lawn. He was in her year, only in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw. And to her, he was perfect. His eyes held some sort of animalistic quality to them, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. This had been the first time she'd spoken to him in ages, and she was more than thrilled. At first they were talking about school their friends, anything their minds could come to, but suddenly something changed.

Rose realized they had wandered near the edge of the forest, far away from anyone else. The sun was beginning to go down as well.

"We'd better go back, it's starting to get dark…" When she made to leave, he'd grabbed her arm.

"But it's much nicer out here, don't you think?"

The details were blurry, but the gist of what happened was still engrained in her mind. Her eyes still saw his vicious smile and her body still ached with bruises. There was a deep scrape on her shoulder from where it had struck a tree trunk, over and over. It had never crossed her mind that she would lose her virginity like this. At least he'd had the courtesy to apologize before running off somewhere. It had taken Rose ages to dress herself and make her way back to the castle. There was no way to describe the way she was feeling except for numb. It occurred to her that she probably would have had sex with him if he'd only asked nicely, so she couldn't be mad at him. That was what she had wanted, right? The searing heat of the shower she'd taken did little to make her feel any better. Sleep would not come. She stayed awake, waiting for the moment that he would climb in her bed and rape her all over again. When she closed her eyes she felt like slimy black tentacles were wrapping themselves around her limbs. Several times she sat up, swatting madly at the things that weren't there.

Somehow, by luck, she hadn't seen Clark at all that day. Maybe he was avoiding her. She hoped so. On her way back from the library she passed by the bathroom that Scorpius had been in, and it was the crying that made her peek inside.

"Malfoy?" she called softly, afraid to get too close. He didn't seem to hear her. Against her better judgment she walked up to him, taking in the mess that used to be Scorpius Malfoy. "Malfoy, are you alright?" His hair was in disarray, and his eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks flushed with drink and arms covered in welts and traces of blood. His eyes finally met hers, and the pain and horror in them startled her so much that she took a few steps back.

"Go away." He said, pulling down his sleeves and making his way to his feet. He began to lose his balance, but when she started to help him he drew his wand and pointed it in her direction. "Did you not hear me? Get away."

"Malfoy, a-are you okay? Do you need some help or-"

"I don't need help from you, okay? Get the fuck out of my face."

Rose's mouth fell open a bit, but although she was stunned, she had enough sense to move out of the way when he stormed out of the room. She was at a safe enough distance that the shove he offered in her direction only moved her shoulder a little bit. It was the injured one, though, so it hurt nonetheless.

She couldn't blame him for sitting on the cold, flat stones of the ground. It was an awful nice place to cry.