Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters and I will not make any money out of this!
A/N: First HP fanfic, hope you enjoy ^^. M for content later on, Slash DM/HP. Contains references to Self-Harm/Eating Disorders *could be triggering* Please keep yourself safe while reading, or skip if something is too much :)

I'm planning to post chapter fifteen later on tonight too! :)

This Chapter is from Harry's POV

Hermione had finally coaxed me out of my room about an hour after I had arrived back. So I was now sitting at the kitchen table, hands clutched around a mug of boiled water that Hermione had insisted I drink. I kind of wished that I had still been in my room without two of them watching me suspiciously.

"Yes?" I asked finally, once my voice had regained some of its usual strength.

"Yes what?" Hermione asked back.

"You both look as though you've got something you want to ask." I replied, Ron shifted as he usually did when he felt uncomfortable.

"Not really, we just want to make sure you're alright." She answered, "You gave us a bit of a fright when you arrived."

"Sorry." I mumbled, slowly putting the mug up to my lips and taking a cautious drink. "I didn't mean to."

"What's going on mate?" Ron asked, "You've been acting… odd." I shot him a look under which he quelled.

"Well at least he's being honest!" Hermione said, "You have been acting strange Harry, I know you've had…stuff on your mind." I was now glaring at her with such an intensity that I was surprised her hair didn't catch fire. "Don't look at me like that!" She snapped, "I haven't said anything! I know what you're worrying about, but you need to watch that you're not turning into it yourself! You didn't eat dinner yesterday, and everything you've eaten today you've thrown up." I felt like I had been dowsed in cold water, genuinely her statement made me feel sick all over again. I saw an image of myself in the same kind of position as Malfoy, lying weakly on a bed with hardly enough energy to stand up for more than a minute.

"Yeah, but I'm not doing that deliberately!" I wanted to rage and storm at her for even suggesting that, but my anger turned into a burning feeling in the back of my throat as the tears began to well up in my eyes. I looked down quickly at my mug, not wanting them to see my tears.

"Oh Harry, I didn't mean it like that." Hermione started, looking aghast.

"How did you mean it then?" I shot back. "There isn't any other way you could have meant it!" Ron was looking completely baffled by this conversation, but I didn't feel like enlightening him. That would be a whole other conversation; when I'd tell him about Malfoy.

"I'm sorry – I didn't think." She apologised, and then there was silence. It felt like it lasted a long time as we all looked in opposite directions from each other.

"Can one of you tell me what the hell's going on?" Ron asked, "Or should I bugger off and do something else?" I felt guilty Ron was my best friend – really I should tell him about this, tell him what's going on. But there was still the overwhelming feeling that he might hit me if I told him… so I didn't answer, and I knew Hermione wouldn't say anything unless I instigated it. "Right, well I'll start making dinner, shall I?" He stood up from the table and moved over to the kitchen area of the room. I closed my eyes, I wasn't hungry yet; I was still feeling too queasy after being sick earlier on.

But then was Hermione right? Did that mean I was like Malfoy? Did that mean I was going to end up like him? The thought of that made me feel worse, so I tightened my grip on the now lukewarm mug of water and took another drink.

All three of us in the kitchen stopped dead as we heard a dull 'thunk' from somewhere within the kitchen. Looking around, I didn't know quite where I should be looking for the source of the noise. It was times like this when I was still terrified that some Death Eater was about to leap out at me from nowhere, but those days were over… Nothing like that was going to happen. Instead, an owl shot down from inside the chimney and landed rather neatly on the table. It stuck out its leg, where there was a piece of parchment rolled tightly into a scroll; I leaned forwards and unfastened it from the owl's leg. It had my name scrawled in back-slanting handwriting across the folded over part of parchment. I flipped it open and read the three lines on the parchment.

'Mr Potter, I'm sure you're aware after your visit today that Draco Malfoy is seriously ill. His condition, however, has deteriorated rapidly since this afternoon; he is requesting to see you. I believe it would be good if you could come and visit him at the soonest possibility; visiting hours need not apply. Signed, Healer K. Kiely.'

My heart plummeted as I took in the information that this piece of parchment was telling me. A wave of nausea washed over me again, as I decided instantaneously that I had to go, now!

"Harry?" Hermione asked, "What is it?" I looked up at her from the parchment.

"I have to go." I said, dropping it down on the table and practically running out the door, up the stairs and out into the cold night air. The moment I heard the front door slam I turned on my heels and merged into darkness.

A/N: You know what I really hate? (You should know as I've said it before) people who read, favourite the story but don't review! So please, please, please review! :D