"Do you love me, my pretty toy? My favourite thing…" The man moaned loudly into his ear.

"I..."Draco choked out, head being repetitively slammed into the wall behind him as his back painfully scraped on the stone floor.

It was so dark. So so very dark.

"Never mind" The man hissed as he painfully dug his fingers into Draco's hips. His breathe was so hot, everything was so hot. Too hot.

"You're not good enough to love." The man cackled.

Draco sobbed,

"Shut up."

A flash of green.

What was that?

"Just good enough…" The man sighed, clearly reaching his climax as he slammed into Draco. Another flash of green, a sparkle, a spec, what was that on his face?

"Don't…" Draco pleaded.

"To fuck…" The man shuddered cumming into Draco. Draco slammed fists into him, trying to push him back.

"I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU"

The man just chuckled. As he lifted his head he put his face right in front of Draco's, the laugh began to distort. Something cold slid down his face and clinked against Draco's nose, a green light began illuminating from where the specs were.

The face was illuminated, the green made sense.

"Harry…" Draco felt himself begin to get sick, as the boy cackled louder and louder.

Draco jerked away, sitting straight up and panting. The sheets were plastered to him; he was covered in a cold, sick feeling sweat. He put his face in his hands and his mind drifted away from the horrible nightmare he'd just had and on to what led him to wake up alone, without Harry next to him to wake him before the nightmares peaked.

"This isn't love, Draco…" Harry said when Draco had re-entered the living room.

"I know you think it is," He stood and walked up to Draco, hand outstretched as if to touch him.

"But you can't love me… you're… sick right now. I just want to help I-"Draco turned on his heel and went into the room Harry had originally designated to him, determined to sleep there on his own that night.

He pulled himself out of bed and crawled on the floor over to the dresser, snaking a hand underneath it.

He pulled out a piece of glass, just barely tinted with dark brown dried blood. He squeezed it, pressing his back to the dresser, shoving himself in the farthest corner of the room.

Who the fuck turned off the lights when he wasn't looking. That bastard must've come in here thinking he was doing something 'sweet'. Draco mused.

'Not safe' he thought.

He curled his knees into his chest and lied in the fetal position on the floor, trying as hard as he could to become part of the corner he was so desperately shoved in to.

He hugged the piece of glass to his body. Harry had thrown all the shattered glass from that one night away, but Draco went into the trash and took this one out. The one He had used on him.

"You love me…" Draco whispered, digging the piece into his chest by pressing it in with his palm flat and dragging. He winced.

"You love me…." He moaned.

"You love me you love me you love me you love me."

Across the hall, Harry had found it quite difficult to go to sleep that night without his arms wrapped around the lithe blonde. Eventually, he had given up. Sauntering down to the kitchen, he contemplated something slightly stronger than warm milk; Fire Whiskey.

He knew it was in the house, he himself just never drank it, and it was left over from Sirius and all the other drinking men from The Order.

One drink was enough to relax him, and honestly, he had no idea why he didn't stop there.

No, he knew alright. Maybe if he drank enough, all of this would go away. Draco would be fine, he'd be snotty and uppity and unbearable…And whole.

Two and the room was moving in slow motion. He had come to peace with the situation at hand.

Three and he began to feel nauseated.

He heard a thump. Wait; make sure you're still in the chair, yes. So where did the thump come from? He slid his face off the table and fumbled his way to a standing position.

He walked at what he believed to be a normal, straight, steady pace, until he hit the wall right next to the staircase, instead of starting up the stairs.

'You love me' he heard faintly.

"Oh bugger." Harry slurred as he braced himself, an arm on either wall, carrying himself up the stairs.

He fumbled with Draco's door handle for a moment.

He creaked the door open to find Draco on the floor, jagged cuts creeping up his chest, down his biceps, up his neck. One was bleeding particularly badly.

Harry sighed,

"oh-Kay…" he slurred.

"Get OFF the floo"

Draco didn't move. Just lied there, still rubbing the piece of glass along his body.

Harry took a few steps towards him,

"Tha was NOT a question, Malfoy. UP" He shouted, and with a flick of his wrist, he'd flung Draco from the floor to his bed.

Draco's head slammed into the wall and he screamed, grabbing the back of his head

"Oh…right…sorry then! Now, just let me heal these and we'll be on our Merry Way."

Draco lay there, limp.

"Oh bloody hell, are you conscious?" Harry ran…or, stumbled, up to Draco.

"Yes…" Draco said flatly.

"Alright, sorry about that, I'm a lil'… well." Harry held his arms out waving them like wet noodles.

He flopped himself over Draco, wresting his wobbly weight on his hands which lay on either side of Draco's head. He kneeled, one knee on the bed next to Draco, face terribly close to the blondes' neck,

"Where is all this blood coming from?" Harry said, astounded.

"I mean it's all over the floor, I've never seen anyone bleed like this."

Harry gestured to the floor.

"Scourgify" he muttered, drawing a line with his finger from Draco's previous, bloody, spot on the floor to the bed, clearing the entire area of blood.

He screwed his face up looking at Draco's wounds.

"I really wish…" He shifted his weight to one hand, nearly collapsing on the blonde and touching the tip of his finger to Draco's bleeding neck.

He examined the blood on his finger tip, eyes squinted and face screwed up. He brought it closer to his face.

Against all better judgment and, in his opinion, everything that made him human and whole, he stuck his tongue out, brushing the tip of his blood tinted finger over his tongue.

He sucked his tongue back in to his mouth and closed his eyes.

"I wish you would stop ...hurting yourself…" He mulled it around in his mouth like a fine wine.

"I wouldn't have to," Draco said, reaching a hand out and cupping the back of Harry's neck,

"If you'd just do it for me." Draco smirked.

"You like the way I taste?" He pulled Harry's face closer to his and watched as Harry tried very very hard to get his eyes to focus on Draco's.

Draco sniffed,

"You're drunk." He laughed.

"Naaaaaaaaaaaaah…." Harry mused.

"But, you are very pretty…" Harry leaned forward capturing Draco's mouth with his own. Draco met him open mouthed and pulled Harry over him, wrapping his legs around Harry's hips. Draco licked Harry's lips and felt Harry tense as he slowly opened his mouth and their tongues brushed against each other.

Draco noted that Harry must've been quite drunk, as it burned to swallow while they kissed.

Draco reached up and slid a hand down his bleeding chest, reaching up between their mouths as he broke the kiss and rubbing a smidge of his blood along Harry's bottom lip.

Harry looked at him confused, and then slowly licked his lip, closing his eyes and shivering. He opened his eyes again, looking much like a dog you were trying to teach how to sit.

Clearly speaking different languages, but you were the one with the treats, and he was the only one you wanted to do the trick.

Draco cupped Harry's face, slipping his thumb into the boy's mouth and squirming as Harry sucked the irony substance off of it. Despite his best efforts to not, he moaned. The vibrations moving down Draco's thumb and apparently going straight to his crotch. Draco shivered, closing his eyes, breaking the staring contest they were having, tipping his head back, and letting out a high pitched squeak. As Harry swirled his tongue around the tip of Draco's thumb he watched and felt the boy arch. Draco bit his lip.

Harry spotted the piece of glass, slightly embedded in Draco's chest. He let go of the boys thumb.

"You are so fucked up" Harry mused.

Draco scowled.

"Pot, meet kettle." He snapped in his childhood-school-boy drawl.

Harry shook his head. He picked the glass up and pocketed it.

"I can't help it" Harry thought out loud as he put his lips to Draco's chest. Draco tensed so hard, Harry thought it felt like he twitched.

As Harry dragged his lips up the boys boney sternum he heard Draco squeak again, terribly quiet, and terribly indignant.

"Vulnera sanentur" Harry whispered, and the bleeding stopped.

"Vulnera sanentur" He hummed again and the deepest of the deep cuts smacked themselves back together, suddenly becoming solid flesh again.

Harry looked at the plethora of shallow cuts; he frowned, licking a few. Draco buried his hands in Harry's hair and tightened his grip with his thighs around the boy.

"Vulnera…" Harry whispered, taking one final lap at his chest,

"Sanentur."

And all the cuts were gone.

"You're-no-fun" Draco pouted.

"Yea, well, I'm also very drunk, and I can't sleep in that room, so it looks like you'll have to put up with me."

Harry grumbled as he fell to one side, wrapping his arms around Draco and pulling him terribly close.

"But...It's dark... Ha…Harry" Draco shook him. Too late, he was gone.

As Draco lay there in the dark he thought something very briefly, as the warmth began to seep in to his every thought and lull him off to sleep.

"Not…Safe…?...No…Safe. Warm… Safe…"

And with that, he hummed himself to sleep.