Blaise
It's been about at week since I talked Draco into telling me what's wrong, and so far he's been doing okay. As far as I can tell, he took my threat seriously and hasn't taken a single sharp object anywhere near his wrists, which I'm proud of him for. Still, he seems so withdrawn lately.
We're on our way out of Transfiguration, and I'm a little worried about him at the moment. He spent the class period staring at Potter and he seems upset. I'm just making a mental note to make sure he's okay when I hear a voice call from behind us.
"Hey, Malfoy!" I turn around and groan. This is not good.
Potter is stomping over to my best friend, who happens to look even paler than usual.
"What do you want, Potty?" He spits. I marvel in amazement. How the bloody hell does he manage to do that? He's one hell of an actor...
"Sod off, Potter." I demand, hoping that maybe I can prevent the coming argument. I really don't want Draco crying again. Unfortunately, though, the git ignores me, and proceeds to snap at Draco.
"What the bloody hell was that, Malfoy, huh? What are you playing at?" As confusion spread's my friends face, I glare at Potter, wishing that I was a basilisk and could kill him on the spot.
"What the fuck are you on about, Potter? Hallucinating, no doubt?" I groan. This is not good.
"You bloody stared at me for an hour, Malfoy. What's your problem?" The Weasley dick snickers at Potter.
"Probably planning something, Harry. Better watch out." He says in mockingly terrified voice. I rub the bridge of my nose.
This is NOT happening.
"Yeah," Potter agrees. "He probably is." Draco glares, but this time I pick up the distress behind his eyes.
"I'm not a sodding Death Eater, Potter."
"You're still a spoiled brat, though." Green eyes retorts.
"Yeah, Malfoy, why don't you just do us a favour and do yourself off." Weasley spits. "Or are we stuck looking at your ugly face every day?" I watch nervously as Draco bites down on his lower lip and glares. Being his friend though, I realise that he's only glaring to hide the tears that shine there.
"It's not like we feel necessarily blessed to see you either, Potter." He snaps. "Saviour of the wizarding world. Please. You're as pathetic as the weasel." Shit.
"You're the pathetic one, Malfoy. Piss off. And stop staring at me." With that, Potter sauntered away, leaving me wondering how in the hell Draco likes him of all people. Then again, I must remind myself, the boy only treats Draco that way because he thinks they hate each other.
I'm brought out of my reverie when Draco suddenly rushes down the hallway and around the corner.
"Fuck." I mumble to myself. I figure I know where he's headed, and I make my way down toward the Slytherin dorms.
As expected, I can hear the sounds of Draco crying from the hallway. I test the knob to find that he's locked us out of the entire dorm this time.
"Draco, open up. You alright?"
"Go away." I groan. I am not going through this again.
"It's just me. Come on." To my relief, he decides not to be difficult and allows me entrance. Draco is sitting on his bed and seeming to not make any effort to hide the tears from me.
"You okay? That was a pretty nasty argument." I stride across the room and plant myself next to him, allowing the boy to rest his forehead on my shoulder as he cries. I bring up a hand to rub his back in gentle, soothing circles. I frown at the uneven gasps coming from him, and realise that he's crying harder than he had the last time they fought.
"He said I should kill myself Blaise..." He whispers.
"Well, Weasley did. Potter didn't, Draco remember that." He just sniffs, and removes his head from my shoulder. He presses the heels of his hands to his eyes and I look at him worriedly.
"Are you going to be okay, Draco?"
"I'm fine." He mumbles. "Look, Blaise, I really hate crying in front of people." I bite my lip, torn by the decision. Part of me respects his want for privacy, but the other part can't help but wonder if it's really a good idea to leave him alone.
Ultimately, though, I decide it's safe. I sigh heavily.
"Fine." I say, a little angrily. "Don't let me help you. I'll just leave you to your misery." Merlin he can be so frustrating sometimes. "But I'm checking your arms at dinner, Draco so don't do anything stupid." He doesn't say anything, but chokes out a quiet sob and the anger in me dissipates. Right now I'm trying to think of reasons why I shouldn't hit Potter in the face next time I see him.
I can't think of any.
Realising that there's really nothing more I can do for the crying boy at the moment, I quietly leave the room, figuring that he'll be okay if I let him cry for a little while.
I don't see him again until dinner.
When Draco comes trudging into the Great Hall, he greatly resembles an inferi, and part of me wonders whether I should have left him alone after all, and I spend the next fifteen minutes or so trying to decide how confront the boy. Ultimately, I determine that the direct approach will be the best way to handle things, though I've mentally prepared myself for more tears.
"Draco..." I say cautiously. "I need to talk to you for minute." He looks over at me with a such a desperate expression I nearly back off.
No.
I need to do this.
I lead Draco into the empty corridor.
"Let me see." I say softly. He shakes his head.
"No."
"Draco for god's sake roll up your sleeves." He does so, cautiously, and when he offers up his arm, I'm not surprised to see a fresh set of cuts littering his pale wrist. I sigh and rub the bridge of my nose.
"Draco, I told you what would happen if I saw any more of these..." as the tears start to run down his face I decide that it isn't worth it. "But I'm giving you one more chance, okay?" I'm just desperate for him to get that look of his face. "Please stop crying. It's alright." I patiently wait for him to calm down and he does so fairly quickly.
"You look like hell." I tell him softly. "How long were you crying for?" He glares angrily at me, and the hostility I sense surprises me.
"What does it matter?" He snaps. I raise my eyebrows.
"What the bloody hell do you mean what does it matter?" I return his irritable tone. "Draco, you're my best mate. You've been moping about miserable for weeks now, and you look like shite. I'm worried that what matters you conceded arse. What aren't you getting about the fact that people actually care about you?" He stares at me for a moment.
"...I'm sorry." He says softly. "I just..." He sighs. "I don't know." I look at him intently and take a deep breath before I speak again.
"Listen, Draco." I say quietly, looking around to be sure there's no one else in the hall. "I need to know that you're okay." I make it quite clear to him that it's meant as a question. He bites his lip and I wince, inwardly.
"I'm fine." He says defiantly.
"Then why do you look like you're about to cry, Draco?" Draco glares, and I feel the hostility return to his stare.
"I said I'm fine, Blaise," he bites out, "leave it."
I sigh. I really didn't want to do this.
"I know about the nightmares, Draco."
Harry
I'm coming around the corridor to the Great Hall when I'm stopped by the sound of voices.
"I'm fine." I gaze around the corner to see Malfoy and Zabini in some sort of private conversation. Instantly intrigued, I pull the invisibility cloak out of my back and throw it over myself.
"Then why do you look like you're about to cry, Draco?" Thoroughly shocked, I move closer to see that Malfoy does in fact look close to tears. Zabini's statement seems to piss Malfoy off.
"I said I'm fine, Blaise. Leave it."
"I know about the nightmares." I watch as Malfoy visibly pales at this. What the bloody hell is going on?
"What are you talking about Blaise?" He's trying to use the same tone he uses with me.
"I'm not deaf, Draco. You're up crying at night." Zabini snaps this as though Malfoy had done something wrong. Malfoy, on the other hand, grows angrier.
"I don't see how it matters, Blaise." This seems to send the dark haired boy off the edge.
"Merlin, Draco!" he shouts. "Fucking look at yourself, will you? You haven't been sleeping, you're got those fucking cuts on your wrists, and you're closing everyone out! It matters, okay?! You won't even let me fucking help you!" Cuts? What the name of Merlin is going on? Invisibly, I recoil at the cold glare that Zabini receives in turn for this outburst.
"I'm fine, Blaise." I'm beginning to sense Zabini's frustration, because if any of what the dark boy just said is true, Malfoy certainly isn't fine. Malfoy turns to stalk off and Zabini grabs his arm. I watch him wince.
No.
There's no way Malfoy's cutting himself.
"Please, Draco." Malfoy... Draco spins around with fire and, to my surprise, tears glistening in his pale grey eyes.
"Please what, Blaise?" He asks, and I hear his voice break slightly. "Huh? What are you going to do to make it stop hurting?" Zabini stares, silently, and we both watch as the strongest person I know begins to break down.
I suddenly feel very much like an intruder.
I shouldn't be witnessing this.
And yet I can't bring myself to turn away.
"There's nothing you can do, Zabini!" He yells. I can't believe it. Malfoy is actually... crying. "There's nothing anyone can do so just leave it the hell alone!" I can feel his anger. His pain.
There's no way this is the same Malfoy I met six years ago.
"I'm fine, okay?" He whispers. "I'm fine." He sniffs and wipes at his cheeks, appearing rather embarrassed by the outburst.
Now that the trace created from the shock has been broken, I turn and sneak away back to the common room.
Is it possible that the attitude Malfoy's been putting off for years has only been an act?
I set my jaw in determination.
I will find out what's going on with Draco Malfoy.