A/N: Hey guys!! Look who got another chapter done extremely early!! Yea recording got stopped extremely early tonight because we only have two tenors and one got sick plus two girls had to leave –sigh- o well it happens right. Anyway I came home and decided to write this chapter Hehe. By the way, this chapter is completely in Draco's POV just cause I want it to be and I thought it would give the chapter a more emotional value.

Also you guys just made my day extremely great. I got online today to upload some of my actual novel cause my mom has to completely redo all the crap on the comp. And she's gonna delete all my files –pouts- its so mean. But anyway I just got more reviews on one chapter that I have on any of my other stories period. That just made my day so much better. Thank you so much. Now for some shout-outs:

Calleen: Thanks for your review. Umm yea I'm still going for that deadline that KEVIN set for me. I wanna prove to him that I can do it. Don't forget you're charrie don't even come in to play till the second book and you best not tarnish that name I spent a lot of time making it up. Anyway I'm glad you like the fic so far.

December jewel: I'm glad you like it. Is this soon enough for ya Hehe.

Chaos: Thanks for the review I'm glad you like it.

Sheree: I'm glad you like it. Yes the Poor abused Draco is one of my fav's as well. And yes the parchment was Draco's password and Blaise was the one who picked it up. Thanks for the review!!

SabrielKalt: I really hope I spelt that right. I'm really glad you like it so far. Don't worry though you get to see a lot more Harry soon. Right now though I'm kinda concentrating on Draco. Show how he's changed and all. This chapter though is the only big one with him I think next chapter Harry will be back.

Flare2: Thanks for the review

Alisha: I am so happy you like the story.

Smoocher of Evil: Interesting name by the way (good interesting). I'm really glad you like it.

Morningpixy: Well I hope this was a quick enough update for ya. Thanks for the review.

Shyla of Slytherin: hey I'll start e-mailin you for you to beta next chapter. I really wanted to get this out though don't know why just did maybe cause I got excited to actually have people reviewing my story. Hope you don't mind that. So I'll be e-mailing you soon.

TheHomicidalManiac777: another interesting name. Yea sorry bout the cliffie. Just so you know though I do have a tendency to do those.

Linda: I'm glad you like it. Thanks for the review.

Ok wow that was a lot of people. Hehe but I don't mind one bit. OK then. –Hands out freshly made Harry and Draco chocolate chip cookies—(loves to bake)

Now for my typical before chapter gibberish (I promise it'll be short) First off no flames I don't pay attention to em and no ones forcing you to read in the first place so don't you even think of criticizing a story just because you don't like who gets paired up cause that's just retarded.

Warnings: There is self-abuse in this chapter if you don't like it then just skip the chapter I guess but you'd be missing something if you do.

Alright. Story time.

O and there will be two poems in this one at the beginning and one at the end just cause I thought they worked well.

My Release

The feel of the blade

As it runs across my flesh.

The painful sting

Dulling the pain of my heart

A smile forms across my lips

As the crimson blood starts to flow

A release from the life I long to leave

And the pain I want to let go. – Me

Chapter 3 An Escape

I can't change my past. Can't change what's happened; the fact that I was too weak to stop things from happening. I can't change it and I hate it. I hate myself for it. I aim to change my future. I want nothing more than to control my own life. I want nothing more than to be out from under that bastards thumb. Yet it seems that those I have considered my friends have other plans. If they wish to punish me for it then so be it. I can punish myself far worse than any of them. I do. I have been for nearly a year. I may not be able to change the past but I can ensure that it doesn't happen again.
My nose stops bleeding shortly after I enter my room. I've always been a quick healer; never bleed for long. I let my icy mask fade away. At least in private I'm not forced to pretend. There's no need for me to keep up the façade just for myself. I slowly make my way to one of the three doors on the far wall, hoping that it is the bathroom.
The first door I come to is a large closet. All my clothes seem to have been hung up already. This is good; it saves me the trouble. It is not, however, what I was looking for. The next door, thankfully, is the bathroom—meaning that the third door leads to the Prefect Commons. I walk in, not bothering to shut the door, and quietly wash the blood from my face at the sink.
Thankfully, my nose does not seem broken. That's the last thing I need. Perhaps luck was actually on my side for once. Though I do doubt that terribly.
I walk back into my room and make my way to my trunk. Perhaps I should at least get my schoolbooks unpacked. One less thing to worry about tomorrow. Since it's Friday we thankfully don't have any school for two days. At least in that time I should be able to get used to being here with everyone else once more.
I open the lid and, using a useful spell my mother taught me long ago, neatly stack all of my books on my bookshelf. My hands begin to shake and I peer into the trunk and spot my knife lying beside my quills. I'd thought I'd forgotten to pack it in my haste. Apparently not. I reach down and pull it out, staring at it. I'm so relieved I didn't lose it as I thought I had. It had a pure black handle with a silver dragon on the side.

The blade was charmed to never have to be sharpened and a silver snake was carved into it that continually slithered its way around the blade. At its base were a series of carvings, which said Halum Ninan Vell. Release from Hell. The knife had belonged to my grandfather. He had crafted it himself. It had also been the tool he had used in committing suicide all those years ago. Apparently he couldn't take his life anymore either.
Isn't it funny how history repeats itself?
I set the knife beside me and turn back to my other belongings. I haven't very many any more. Only what I could pack and bring with me in the short time I had before my father... That's not a good train of thought for me at the moment. At least not now. I reach in a pull out a small crystalline dragon sculpture. It was a gift for my mother. I'd always been fond of dragons. Ever since I learned my name meant just that. Mother had always been the one I could turn to. I have always loved her more than anything and she me. I wonder if she'd still want anything to do with me. Probably not. Father still controls her completely. She'll probably forget I exist within the month.
I stand and set the figure on my bedside table along with my alarm clock, which I quickly grab before standing. When I kneel back down beside the open trunk I reach in a pull out a small velvet back. Opening it I tip it over and a silver ring falls into my palm. A green gem rests in its center surrounded by snakes and the letter M was emblazoned in its center.
It was the Malfoy crest. All Malfoys had one. Including my father. Just the thought of it brings back memories of that night. I reflexively bring my hand to my cheek, almost expecting to find blood on my fingers as I pull it away. I can still feel the sting that the contact had caused. It hadn't been the first time that ring had ripped the skin of my cheek, though it had definitely been the worst.
Sighing I close my eyes. Instantly I regret it. I find myself back in the small room. It was one of the smaller dungeons under the Manor. My father's laughter is joined by that of the dark lord himself. The room was covered in blood. So much blood.
My eyes snap open and the ring slips to the floor. My eyes travel to my blade, which still lies beside me. The fire from my fireplace flickers gently across the polished steel. My fingers grasp the handle tightly and I slowly stand from where I crouched on the floor. Shakily, I make my way over to my bed and slide down onto the floor once more.
I glance at my wrist. The sleeve has slid up slightly, almost as though inviting me to cut once more. Memories of that night flood through my head and I don't know how much longer I can handle it. I quickly discard my robes and roll up the sleeve of my shirt.
I bring the blade up to my wrist, resting it next to a small, white scar, and gently push down. I stop when blood begins to seep around the blade and slowly drag it across my wrist. When I pull away I smile slightly as the blood wells up and overflows. As it begins to run a trail down my arm I quickly cut another line slightly below the first, only this time cutting slightly deeper.
The sting of each cut no longer causes me to wince. As I continue I find the weight in my heart lighten slightly and the pain caused by the many small cuts helps to deaden the pain caused by my memories. I know that it will never be gone but it helps. It gives the pain life. Makes it real. I watch for a moment as the blood from the...10 now...wow...cuts runs down my arm to drip on the carpet below.
Slowly rolling up the other sleeve I switch my knife to my left hand and begin again on my other arm. My hands shake slightly and I find my eyes welled with tears. Dropping the knife to the ground I let my arms fall to my sides and silently cry. I never used to cry. It wasn't allowed and I still did not allow myself to fully cry.
A dull throbbing in my arms reminds me of what I've just done and the cool drips I feel tell me that the cuts had yet to stop bleeding.
My father called my cutting a weakness. I call it my strength. It's something that I can control. Something real that I know I can always count on. It's my release. If it hadn't been for my discovering cutting I'd probably be dead already. Not that I haven't tried certainly. I'm just too chicken to actually go through with it. Too weak to actually push the knife far enough in my wrist to cause the bleeding to not stop.
I lay my head back against my bedpost and my mind wanders back to my confrontation with Blaise. Apparently the Slytherins are displeased with my decision. I can't say that I expected much more from them. I can't even say that I'm remotely surprised. I'll have to watch myself in classes and in the halls.
I'm not really sure how long I can stay away from them. I'm not even sure how long I can put up with their torture. But at least one thing is certain. No matter what I have somewhere I can go to get away from them. A place to be alone. An escape.

Beautiful River

This crimson fluid

Which runs through my veins

This wonderful life giver

The beauty it brings

Once it overflows

And runs down the sides of my arms

Intricate designs

Are left in its wake

They're beauty startles even me

But once the flow stops

As all of them do

I take out my knife

And create a river new.

A/N: And there's chapter 3. I personally like it. Though it is a bit short. But still I wanna know what you all think. I also think those poems work with it don't you? Anyway. Shyla of Slytherin be ready to receive the next chapter for beta-ing sometimes soon. I'm done with recording for a while so I'll have quite a bit of time on my hands.

Remember to review I really want feedback on this chapter, I don't write in first person like that very often. Remember if you review I'll give you a treat. Maybe next time it wont be a baked good but it'll be good k.

Oh and Harry's back next chappie!! Talk to ya all Tuesday Kay

A/N version 2: first off don't ask why I keep writing that...I don't know I just like too. I couldn't really bring myself to change this chapter. I know its kind of short but I couldn't change it. I like it too much! I did change a few spelling mistakes but I'm sure I missed some but oh well.

Ciao Kaydera