Summary: When the depressed Harry Potter meet two Slytherins that seems interested in him, he doesn't know what he wants more; the freedom he was trying to seek, or them.
Pairings: DracoMalfoy/HarryPotter/BlaiseZabini
Warnings: OOC – Slash.
As Harry Potter stared at himself in the mirror, he kept repeating the same words over and over again, "I'm free. I'm free. I'm free. I'm free. I'm free. I'm free."
The world was just a pile of pieces of shit that was trying to suffocate him. He hated life. He hated people. He hated objects. He hated animals. He hated plants. And he hated himself so so very much. He wished he could disappear forever. Yes, sure he didn't want to live, but at the same time he didn't want to die either. Death was horrible, and life was unbearable. It was unfair, so unfair for him to being born without his consent. He should have been given a choice.
A choice.
It was something that he craved. He wanted a choice over his life. He wanted to be completely free. Knowing life, he knew that no one was truly free. He wished to at least have control over his life. Control would allow him choices, and choices would pull him closer to being free.
"Mate, you okay?" Ron's voice invaded his hearing range.
"What? Oh, yes, sure," he answered, forcing himself to look away from the mirror. "What do we have now?"
"Snape."
The name alone was enough to make all those present groan in displeasure. Even if one of them liked potions at some point, it immediately turned to dislike once they met the man. Snape was obviously very hard on them, and he favored his House. It was a known fact for everyone.
"BREAKFAST!" exclaimed Seamus as he ran out with Dean trailing behind him.
"Come on," Hermione said, pressuring them. "We should get going already. We don't want to miss breakfast, and we most definitely do not want to be late for class."
Clutching his books, Harry moved behind Ron and Hermione until they made their way to the Great Hall and their table. Sitting down, Harry poured himself a glass of cold water. With shaky hands, he started drinking. The last thing he wanted to do was to be dehydrated.
He glanced at the Hufflepuff table and watched Cedric laughing at something his friend said. He wished he could be like Cedric. Cedric was confident, playful, smart, outgoing, and loved. Man, he really was jealous of the boy.
"Harry," Hermione nudged him.
"Yes?" he raised both his eyebrows, since he couldn't raise just one. It was impossible for him. He tried so hard in the past to raise only one, but it never worked.
"Did you do your homework," scolded Hermione. "We have to deliver it by the end of the fourth period."
While Hermione kept talking to him, his attention settled on the ceiling. It was an intriguing sight. Magic was truly a wander to the eye. It screamed beauty, but Harry somehow couldn't see the beauty of it at all.
On the other side of the hall, Draco Malfoy narrowed his eyes as he watched Potter. It was too obvious that the boy lost too much weight. Was he not eating well? Well… that was obvious. Why hasn't anyone commented on it and took a notice, he would never know. The dark circles under the other boy's eyes were growing darker and darker every day. The Mudblood-lover probably deserved whatever was happening to him anyway.
"Staring again, I see."
He glanced at his best friend and lover, Blaise Zabini, and smiled warmly.
"I'm most definitely not staring at him," said Draco. "Why would I stare at anyone else but you?"
"You sneaky little thing," replied his lover in amusement.
Draco moved his hand under the table to hold Zabini's hand into his. He loved how Blaise's hand was always cold. He loved the feeling that Blaise gave him every time they would stare at each other or touch. Blaise gave him the knowledge that he was loved and for that, he loved him more each day.
"How about we skip the first period?" teased Draco as he licked his lips.
"And face the wrath of your godfather? I'd rather not," snorted Blaise.
Draco laughed and his attention fell once again on Potter. He didn't know when his obsession with watching the teen started. Maybe it was the first time they met, or maybe it was when the other boy looked at him with intense, hateful eyes, or maybe it was when he along with his lover admitted to each other that they wanted Potter.
Glancing at his lover, Draco found the other boy staring at the Gryffindor as well. He would never understand how he and Blaise became partners. Both of them learned that they loved the thrill of dominance. It was a constant battle between the two. Every time they would get together, they would fight over who would top the other. Granted, Blaise did win most of the times, but there was no way in hell that Draco could just give up like that.
"He does have sweet lips," admitted Draco but didn't receive any answer from his lover.
Blaise Zabini was concerned. He might not like or even care about Potter, but he still was the fantasy that he and Draco were fixated on. They would always imagine him in lewd positions while they jerked each other off. They loved to picture his perfect lips on their bodies. They wanted to hear him beg and scream their names while crying out loud with tears streaming from his beautiful eyes.
Groaning, Blaise decided that it was time for him to leave the great hall, not trusting himself to devour the boy with his eyes.
"c'mon, baby," said Blaise as he grabbed Draco's arm's to get him up.
"What? No, Blaise. I didn't finish my breakfast yet," whined Draco.
"You ate three plates already."
Draco pouted in defeat and followed his boyfriend. Well, he didn't have a choice anyway as Blaise's hand was clutching his arm and pulling him along.
Harry Potter found himself walking toward his first class by himself, since his two best friends have decided to spend more time at the Great Hall. He didn't expect Hermione to keep eating instead of rushing toward the classroom. Ron, sure, he wasn't really keen to face Professor Snape.
"Oh, look," a voice he knew very well taunted him suddenly. "The Golden Boy. Where's your bodyguard and mudblood? Have they finally decided that you were too much of a freak to hang out with?"
As he heard the laughter of the group of people, he picked up his speed a little while trying to ignore them. If he ignored them, they will all just disappear. He hated this. He hated them. He wanted them dead. No—he wanted himself to be dead.
He was too tired. Too tired and exhausted of being what everyone else wanted him to be. He didn't want to listen to everything they told him. He didn't want to be held down by an invisible leash. He wanted everything to end already. He wanted to wake up one day, decide to travel, and then pack his luggage and just go anywhere. He wanted to dye his hair the color he wanted at any time he wished to. Maybe it was something that anyone could do, but he could still remember the time he dyed his hair purple, and how the headmaster acted.
"On your way to the class, I hope, Mr. Potter," Professor Snape's voice made him pause.
"Yes, Sir," the moment the word Sir slipped out of his tongue, he felt as he stabbed his own self. Wasn't that a sign of not being in control? Did that mean that Snape held power over him?
"POTTER!" shouted Snape, causing Harry to jump. The man scowled at him and sneered, "Stop wasting my time and run along already. Five points from Gryffindor."
"That's unfair!" whined Harry.
"Are you questioning my ability to teach, Potter?" smirked the man. "Another 10 points for talking back."
Harry didn't even know why he bothered with Snape of all people. The man was just unreasonable. When did he question his teaching abilities? The jerk just wanted to take points from his house.
Gritting his teeth, Harry apologized and hurried away from the hateful man.
Later that day, he found himself slipping out of the school at night, only to be in a motel room with a stranger man.
"What would you like then?" the young man asked him, almost eager if it wasn't for his eyes that showed Harry that he didn't mean what his demeanor showed.
To say Harry was nervous would be an understatement. He was afraid, scared, and terrified. This was it. He would finally say it to someone.
The man moved toward him slowly, sensing his nervousness. "It's alright," whispered the man in his ears. "Just tell me what you need. I will make you better. Or perhaps you want me to lead?"
"I- I want you to lay on the bed next to me as I sleep and cry and never touch me or say anything at all. Your money would be given to you in the morning," said Harry in one breath.
The man's eyes widened at the admission. Was this guy serious? He have received many strange and weird requests before, but he never received such thing. What was the boy playing at? He was ready to get out of the room already if it wasn't for the pathetic look that was planted on the boy's face.
The boy was looking at the ground while biting his trembling lower lip. He could see the blood dripping from those lips. He couldn't ignore such look. It was just so…. Pathetic.
"Very well," the man sighed.
That night, Harry cried himself throughout the whole night without taking a break. He was finally allowed to cry. He thought about his life and all that happened to him. He thought about his father and mother; his aunt, uncle, and cousin; his two best friends; his teachers; the bullies; himself; himself; himself. He felt guilty over everything. It was all his fault. If he wasn't useless maybe he wouldn't feel this way. It wasn't like his life sucked. There were many lives far worse than his, but by the end of every day, all he could think about was his own life, and not those who had it worse.
Having a stranger next to him was comforting. He didn't know the man, and the man wouldn't ask any question in return. He would cry his eyes out this day without caring who would judge him for it. Crying was such a lonely act, and he didn't want to be lonely. He wanted to cry and cry and cry but he also wanted someone to be there with him. He wanted to pretend that this person cared about him; that this person treasured and loved him; that this person would eventually hug him tight and never leave his side.
The man in return was being tortured by all the crying, sniffling, and hiccuping. He couldn't believe that someone would cry this much. What was so bad in this kid's life to make him this sad? He laid all night staring at the ceiling, while hearing the cries.
When the tears started to dry on his cheeks, Harry knew that it was time to return to the school. The last thing he wanted to happen was for him to be discovered sneaking in and out of the old castle. With one look at the man's eyes that stared at him, he put an envelope on the bed and exited the room.
Apparating to the dungeons, it was too dark and quiet. He felt a shiver running through him as the cold attacked his skin and bones. He hugged himself and tip-toed slowly, hoping that no one would catch him; especially Professor Snape.
He sighed in relief at the thought of him nearing the end of the corridor. Suddenly he felt his leg being kicked hard and he let out a yelp. Once he fell on the ground, he found himself being kicked on his legs, arms, stomach, and face.
Fear and pain gripped his insides. Why wasn't he attacking back? Why wasn't he fighting for his life? He couldn't- he just couldn't do anything as the fear and pain froze him in his place. Was he going to die? No… he didn't want to die yet. Wait, why was he suddenly denying death? Was he finally submitting to his broken mentality?
Every part of his body hurts. The kicking stopped, only to be replaced with punches and scratches. Pain was everywhere. He couldn't handle it anymore
Closing his eyes, he couldn't help but pray for someone to help him.
When it was still lunch time, Draco sat on his seat pouting. Blaise as usual was by his side, caressing the soft skin of his hand gently.
"What's wrong?" asked Blaise in concern.
"I just can't believe that you ditched me for Pansy."
"She needed help with her project," said Blaise as he drank his juice.
"But we were supposed to work on my project together!"
He heard Pansy's laughter. Glancing, he saw her marching toward them.
"Draco, are you still throwing a hissy fit over this, darling?" she taunted and sat beside him.
He glared at her. "I hate you."
"No, you don't," she said with an innocent smile.
He growled and ignored her. True, he could never hate this girl. It was like she held some power over him that made him like her ever since they were children. Pansy was one of his very first friends. When he was five years old, his father was invited to a party that was excluded to Purebloods only, and that was where children often created friendship. It wasn't appropriate for them to befriend those who were with tainted blood.
Hearing a commotion, Draco and his companions knew instantly that it was coming from the Lions' side. They were the only loud and obnoxious people in there.
Glancing at their direction, Draco's eyes searched for the black raven head, and saw him getting up from his seat and walking out. He couldn't help the disappointment that surged inside him. The only time he was able to stare at Potter was during meals. That was the only time he would be able to stare at the boy and imagine him in every position his mind would allow him to imagine.
He noticed from the corner of his eyes Blaise staring at Potter as he was leaving as well. His boyfriend had a frown on his face that Draco didn't understand.
Blaise was probably the only person he loved. His love for the other boy has even surpassed his love for his parents. Blaise was gentle, kind, strong, and very caring. He was always there for Draco, taking care of him when needed. He never complained, and never let the blond down. He was probably the only person who cared about Draco.
But thinking about Potter had Draco confused as well. He didn't just desire his body. In fact, that was only a small part of why he wanted him. Potter was simply… dare he say, adorable? Every time he would look at him, a possessive feeling would form itself in his mind, heart, and body. He wished the boy would smile more. He wanted to tease him playfully just to see him shriek with laughter. He longed for the boy to be in his arms while they slept together. He wanted Potter's attention to be completely on him.
Later, before going to bed, Draco sneaked out with his lover to have some fun. He wasn't as excited as Blaise since he was the one that had to be the bottom today, but he would do anything for his amazing boyfriend.
They locked their eyes together as they kissed while Draco was sitting on the ground with Blaise looming over him. Draco could see the intense eyes that he loved dearly staring at him in hunger.
"Damn it, Zabini!" exclaimed an annoyed Draco. "Take it slower, will you?"
"Can't," answered Blaise as he trailed kisses all over his neck, jaw, cheeks, and lips.
Draco in return pushed the other boy to the ground and sat over his chest with a smirk. Blaise narrowed his eyes and they soon found themselves fighting playfully for dominance.
"Wait," Draco said suddenly as he clutched to his chest. "Do you hear that?"
"Hn?"
"Blaise!" hissed Draco as he got away from his boyfriend. "I really am hearing some noises coming from outside.
Without waiting for his boyfriend, he dashed out of the room, leaving Blaise to growl in frustration and follow after him. They both walked slowly until they heard a sniffling sound. Holding the torch upward, Draco gasped at the sight in front of him. Every emotion inside of him suddenly screamed all at once. He thrust the torch onto Blaise's hands as he ran toward the falling figure. Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit. Draco didn't know what to do. The worrying was going to kill him.
"Potter! Merlin, Potter!" he tried to pat the boy's cheek softly while hearing the soft cries. "Stay with me, Harry. Stay with me."
He could feel the tired green eyes staring at him in defeat before they dropped.
"Grab him. QUICK!" yelled Draco at his boyfriend. "We need to take him to the matron."
He tried to collect the boy in his arms, but his hands were shaking wildly.
All Blaise was feeling at that moment was anger. Anger that was going to blind him. He wanted to attack everyone. He didn't know where this overprotective feeling came from, but as he stared at Harry Potter's unconscious body, he allowed the rage to take control over him. And before thinking, he pointed his wand at random direction and shouted all the spells he could remember.
I honestly don't know what came over me to write this story. If you find any mistakes, please tell me. I'm trying to improve my English, and any note would be appreciated.
EDIT: I fixed some mistakes, and would probably do so again.