Title: Learning to Love Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this for fun and not profit. Rating: M Pairings: Harry/Draco Warnings: suicidal thoughts, abuse, homosexual relationships Summary: Harry is suicidal and dangerously close to the edge as he loses control over his expanding magical powers. Draco finds himself loosing strength after suffering at the hands of his manic father. Can the two boys find hope where there seems to be none? Author's Notes: This is my first time back in the realm of Harry Potter fiction. Please leave your thoughts. Chapter One: Down on Life
--HP--
Harry Potter the boy-who-lived, the sixteen-year-old who had been through so much, with such strength and optimism, held a single razor blade dangerously close to his left wrist. He slowly lowered the blade onto the bare skin right into a large blue vein just visible through the thin skin. He watched with an almost sadistic pleasure as the warm, red blood oozed out of the deepening cut smearing across the shiny silver metal of the razor and contrasting deeply against the smooth, slightly tanned skin of his forearm before dripping on to the shower floor below. As he watched the thick red liquid washed down his arm on to the slick ground of the shower, thinning and paling in color before swirling around the drain a couple of times and washing down with a splash of the cold, hard water. He smiled a tight lipped smile as he felt a small burden lifted from him. He felt as if his troubles were flowing out along with the sticky crimson blood. It was the most blissful feeling Harry could remember, but after it passed reality came swirling back in a wave of mixed emotion and pain. The pain of being Harry Potter. The pain that came with years of solitude and the knowledge that he would never be normal.
Harry sat staring at the razor blade for a moment or two more before he took it in his left hand, hoping to repeat the momentary release. The thin blade then sunk deep into his right wrist, more blood seeping out, further dulling the once brilliant shine silver of the blade, causing a single reflexive tear to drip down the boy's face, unnoticed in the downpour of icy water from the shower head. It went swirling down the drain with the rest of the tainted blood.
"Get out of the Bathroom BOY!" He heard Vernon shout, and the rickety old door slowly cracking due to his banging on it, "Dudley needs in." Harry sighed heavily and allowing the cold water to rinse the remaining blood off his wrists, wishing the bleeding would slow, as he began to feel lightheaded. As much emotional trama as Harry had felt over the past few months he did know with a bitter certainty that death wasn't what he desired. He just couldn't understand why.
"As if he can fit," Harry whispered half to himself. Dudley had indeed lost some weight over the previous summer, however Petunia, in order to make up for the lack of food she caused with the necessary diet, was feeding him anything and everything he wanted. As a result Dudley had grown to a size that rivaled the giant squid. Harry guessed that at one point in his life this would have frightened him; but not now. He was not afraid of his terrible excuse for a family any longer.
--DM--
Halfway across the country, a young blonde flew limply across a large, dark room into the course stonewall on the far side. His head hit a rough protruding stone with a sickening crack and as the boy slid down the wall, barely conscious, he left a trail of shining red blood. "You're a disgrace to the Malfoy name, you stupid son of a bitch!! How dare you let the Potter boy and his measly little, mudblood, scum-ridden friends best you!" The young blonde moaned softly, clearly in pain yet his father continued. "You. Are. A. Fucking. Malfoy. And Malfoys DO NOT LET pathetic muggle lovers best them" Lucius Malfoy lashed out at his son, watching the pain swelling in the steely silver-grey eyes.
The elder Malfoy pulled out his wand and whispered viciously "I think it's time for a lesson." At this Draco Malfoy tensed, waitng for the word he knew was coming. "Crucio" the elder Malfoy smiled slightly as he watched his only son collapse on the ground writhing with a pain like thousands of white hot knives slicing him from the inside out. After a couple minutes the boy on the ground mercifully passed out and his father walked out of the room growling and kicking angrily at a nearby house elf, "You can't even take a little pain, bloody hell, even that fucking savior child can!"
--HP--
Harry sat up late into the night troubled by his thoughts and memories. When he finally drifted into a fitful sleep, his dreams were littered with horrifying nightmares haunted by his memories of Lord Voldemort's rebirthing, their last meeting, and the lingering pain from Sirius's death.
His emerald eyes snapped open, as he was jolted from a particularly nasty nightmare, by the searing pains in his now glowing scar. None of this was new however. Harry had had only sporadic, restless sleep since the beginning of summer vacation. He groaned and rolled over so that he could see the clock; it was only 4:30, but Harry didn't feel like sleeping; He knew sleep would only bring back the memories so much more vividly than he saw them in his waking hours. Instead, he rolled out of bed, shivering as his feet hitting the cold wooden floor and walked over to his desk where his Transfiguration assignment was still laying, half finished. Their Professors had given them a great deal of work, and for the first time Harry was truly thankful. It was a much needed distraction. Harry dropped, gracelessly into the empty desk chair, and stared blankly at the paper. He wasn't focused on the assignment. His thoughts were traveling back to his dream. It had been different this time. All of Voldemort's most recent victims came swirling around him, asking him why he didn't save them. He should have been able to, able to conquer the Dark Lord. He was the boy-who-lived.
In an attempt to distract himself he pulled out a large book he'd found wrapped in brown paper and tied with packaging rope, and hidden under a loose board in one of the library bookcases. The old cover still had a new look to it. It didn't appear to be used much, so the writing on the front of it was easily read. 'Life for a Hogwarts Student - by the Marauders: Moony, Prongs, Padfoot and Wormtail. It had great stories about his father, godfather, former Professor, and his mortal enemy's right hand during their days at school. He learned a ton about the school, and about his father. Learning so much about his father sent him into another downward spiral of depression. While reading it he came across magical copies of all the potentially dangerous spell the four managed to work out. The one he was particularly interested in was for becoming animagi. The book held every note the marauders had found in their years of research. With this much information even Neville could pull it off! All Harry had to do was talk Hermione into it. Yet, by now Harry had gotten bored with memorizing every last word in the section labeled Animagus, so he looked and looked for other spells he could perform when the school year started. There were tons of dueling tricks in it, but Harry quickly picked his favorites - a spell to turn any curse away, and one that made twelve exact copies of you, and made your enemy guess which body was the real you. Harry figured they'd both come in handier then making someone's toenails turn neon pink or pastel blue. Harry flipped to the back page, one that Harry had never looked at before, it had their entire graduating class. The students were listed by their house, so he automatically read all the names of the Gryffindors, all four marauders were there, but Harry saw no sign of his mother. He leaned back staring at the page in confusion, when her name jumped out at him.
LILY EVANS - Head Girl
This wasn't the news that hit Harry so hard. It was where his mother's name was listed. She was a Slytherin!
Just then, a small rapping came from the glass window on the other side of the room. A small ball of fluff was repeatedly ramming its tiny beak into the glass, bouncing back and trying again, as if he'd be able to break through it. Harry had a shot of much needed amusement before opening the window to allow the owl to drop a letter on his bed, zoom around, and land beside Hedwig, who once again, looked at Pig,
disgusted by his behavior. Harry just chuckled at Pig's antics, and opened the thick envelope. Three papers fell onto his bed. He picked up the first parchment, and vaguely took note of what it said,
Harry,
How's your summer? I'm a little worried that I haven't heard from you yet, but I'm doing great! Fred and George have been spending tons of time in their room, and we've been hearing even more explosions then normal, I hope they make something to turn people into slugs, like Malfoy and his goons-that was funny! Mom knows they're up to something, but hasn't bothered to bug them about it. Dumbledore finally decided it would be safe for you to leave the awful Dursleys. Tonks said I could come with them to get you (around eight on the fifteenth), but my Mum said we have to stay home for sometime this year, because we might be being watched, and Moody said no to the whole idea, and he's head of your security. Too bad. We should be able to come over sometime after you get there though! Oh yeah! You know Fred and George said they got headquarters in Diagon Alley right, well, they've been letting me work for them, and they've been making amazing profits. I'm mighty glad you gave them that money, I swear they are geniuses. Don't tell them I said that though, they'll get even bigger heads then they have already.
See you soon,
Ron
Harry glanced at the calendar, and noticed that it was already the 15th and wondered if the short notice was Ron's fault or Pig's. He picked up the second paper, leaving the last one unnoticed where it had fallen and glanced at the handwriting on it
Harry!
Thanks again mate! We're making loads of money, and we don't know if Ron told you, but he's working in the store this summer. Oh, and Mum was angry when we dropped school before the end of the year, and she still doesn't know how we're making all the money, but we're not too worried about her, and we don't think that she's going to make a big deal out of it since it's safer than working with the Order of the Pheonix. We hope you are doing okay, not doing anything we wouldn't, you need to keep your spirits up!
Harry gave a hollow laugh, that's a good one. I don't even want to live my life anymore.
Well, we'll talk to you later. Thanks and stay safe,
Fred and George
Harry sighed and started throwing things into his trunk, so he'd be ready when the Weasley's arrived.
--DM--
A small figure with unusually large ears walked carefully down the long dark hallway. It stopped at a large wooden door. It carefully balanced the tray of food she was carrying on one hand and used the other to knock on the door. The door slowly creaked open and the person within immediately ordered
the elfin creature to quickly set the plate on his table and leave. The small thing obeyed and left the young blonde to his food.
Food was not, however, on the boy's mind at the moment. His thoughts were filled with hatred toward everyone and everything, and about how pointless his life was. With his knees pulled in tight to his chest and his head leaned against the hard wood of his bed post the frail body shivered as he felt the same, fragile and fleeting peace that the dark haired boy had enjoyed just hours earlier. He often wondered what his purpose was. Why was he banished to a life of beatings and ruthless attacks on his innocence. Absentmindedly, as he thought, he gently wiped the remaining blood from his wrists, wishing someone would save him from himself and his father. His thoughts wandered to a pair of emerald green eyes as his own vision began to blur. It was not long before he became light headed and passed out, from a mixture of emotional pains and lack of blood.
Several hours later, a young Malfoy woke up on the floor to his room, bruised and haunted by memories of his father's beatings. He cringed in complete agony as his body was still throbbing with pain from the many beatings he'd received since returning home. The pain never seemed to leave. There were times, increasing in frequency, that he wished he wasn't a wizard so that he would have died by now. Draco lifted his head off the ground, "Master Draco?" a tiny, high-pitch voice questioned from right outside the door. "Twinkie is wanting to make sure Master Draco got enough food."
"Come on in, Twinkie." The blonde croaked, pulling himself with great difficulty, back into a sitting position, as the small elf entered his room. In Draco's opinion Twinkie was the only creature in the house who was worth his time. She was obviously the only one who gave a damn. She was wearing a nice green and silver tea towel, the mark of a Malfoy house elf, and carrying a tray of food and a glass of pumpkin juice. She smiled at her master, and set the tray down in front of him. "Thank you"
"Twinkie is happy to help!" She squeaked. "Is Master Draco okay?" Twinkie eyed his cuts and bruises, particularly the one across the bridge of his nose, which looked as if it would scar, "Twinkie saw what happened, she saw what master Lucius did to him. Twinkie wants to help."
"I'm okay Twinkie." the young schoolboy grimaced, as he lied and sent his elf on her way. He pulled himself to his feet and walked slowly and painfully to his mirror, glancing in it sadly, closed his grey eyes, and a sparkly tear drop trickled down his marred face, leaving a opalescent trail where it slid. It ran into a deep gouge on his chin and he winced in pure agony, not blinking, forcing the tears of pain welling in his eyes to swell over his lashes, dripping to the floor below.
One of these times he needs to just finish me off, then it can't hurt anymore. No one would care, it would be a dream for Potter. Draco thought bitterly.
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