So I've wanted to start writing this for a while and I finally got around to doing it. This is a drarry fic that contains slash, if you don't like, don't read. There will be no character bashing or any things like that.

Trigger Warning: This fic may be triggering to some people (it contains mentions of self-harm) so if that is a problem then please don't read this. If you like this let me know and I'll continue with it :3 Enjoy xx

Cold.

It was so cold.

His heart was heavy with guilt as he stood watching students run past him.

He wanted to run.

He wanted to run far, far away and never stop.

Then maybe it would be easier.

He thought that maybe if he ran from his problems and his fears then maybe they would go away, but he was wrong.

He wished that he had someone to vent to, someone to tell all of these…feelings and thoughts that were trapped inside of his mind.

But he had no one to talk to.

Everyone hated him.

And he knew it, he accepted it, and he knew it would never change. He had no one to blame but himself for it. All he had ever been was an arrogant arsehole, a perfect pureblood, too good for anyone else. He was amazed that he was still alive…after everything he had done and said it was a wonder that no one had taken the opportunity to kill him off.

But no, he was still here much to his own displeasure. So many people had died…had given their lives for all the right reasons and here he was the boy he had made all the wrong choices. He didn't deserve to live, he didn't deserve to wake everyday while all of these families had to wake and realize that all their loved ones had left them.

He was disgusted with himself, utterly disgusted, how could he have been so….blind? So completely idiotic? He was so afraid….so…so blinded with the fear that he allowed himself to hurt all those people. He should have known better, but instead he let it happen, he let those people die and he did nothing to stop it.

So he fell deep into depression, filled with self-hatred and guilt he joined the others in taunting him and treating him as if he were nothing but worthless garbage. He deserved it; he deserved every kind of pain in the world.

His parents were worried about him. Before the war they had never noticed, they had never seen the pressure he was under; they never noticed that they were slowly losing their son. They always saw him as strong and full of life, but now when he came home he was so empty….so lost, as if he weren't even there. His mother had tried to talk to him, his father as distant as he always had been had even tried, but there was no use.

Draco wanted to die.

It wasn't as if the ex-death eater had any reason to want to keep living. He had no friends, his parents weren't much help, and the people at school….well if Draco were to die he was sure they would have a celebration.

He knew it was a horrible idea to return to school to make up his 7th year, most other Slytherins in his year didn't want to return either. Some having been on the other side during the war had not gone unnoticed, even those who fought on Potter's side were bullied horribly.

And Draco felt as if that were his fault.

Maybe if in the beginning if he hadn't been such a prick, maybe if he disobeyed his parents and fought with Potter and the goddamn Golden Trio instead of being too fucking scared to fight against Voldemort.

But he was too scared.

He made the wrong choices and because of it he must be punished.

He deserves it.

He was two months into his 8th year at Hogwarts and it was complete hell. As if he didn't have enough guilt already these people would make it worse. He knew he deserved all of this but the pain…it was so unbearable.

He was so close to the edge it was terrifying.

He would lock himself in the bathroom stalls at night and take a razor to his wrist to make him forget. To make him feel, to make the thoughts go away for a little while just to make it more bearable to live with the reminders of his past.

Every day the Weasel would push him into a wall and call him a traitor. Every day a Gryffindor would send hexes at his head and call him disgusting. Every time Granger would see the act she would look the other way and pretend as if she hadn't seen him.

He thought that they were supposed to be saviors.

But then he remembered he didn't deserve to be saved.

He wouldn't fight it when they would hurt him.

He wouldn't say anything when they called him horrible, awful things and blamed him for all the pain in the world.

His past would haunt him forever, there was no denying it and there was definitely no running from it. He had to live with the loneliness, the coldness, and the overwhelming guilt. Until one day he would finally be granted the gift of death and he would finally be released from this curse.

But that day would have to wait, because apparently the world still wanted him to suffer for all of these mistakes.

So he just had to accept that.

He stood from the bench he had been sitting on, for he had been putting off going to the Great Hall as long as he could, and headed towards the castle.

Inside the great hall Harry sat conflicted between his close friends. Ron droned on about Qudditch while Hermione sat with her nose buried in a book. Ginny sat next to him listening closely to her brother, her hand draped over Harry's. He sighed and looked up as he noticed a certain Slytherin entering the Great Hall.

There had been something completely off about Malfoy ever since he came back to Hogwarts. All he ever did was spend time on his own and barely spoke at all. Whenever anyone would say something crude and hurtful to the blond he wouldn't say a word. What had happened to Harry's arch nemesis? He almost felt himself feeling bad for him.

Almost.

"Have you noticed anything…off about Malfoy lately?" Harry said suddenly, finding the need to voice his definitely-not-concern.

"Not any more than usual" Said Ginny looking up at her boyfriend "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know he just seems….different" He sighed, "He just used to be…he used to have some life in him and now he just seems so sad…and empty."

"Don't tell me you care about that traitor" Ron piped up sending a glare over to Draco, "He deserves all the pain he's received."

"I don't think he's a traitor" Harry said, sounding almost upset about the accusation, "He just….he didn't have a choice. I think it's sick what people are doing to him. It's not right, no matter what anyone does in the past, they don't deserve that kind of treatment, no one does."

"Whatever you say, mate" Ron said rolling his eyes, "I still think he deserves it." Harry sighed at his friend, sure Draco had always been a prat but he certainly didn't deserve to be reminded of every mistake…every….painful memory every day of his life.

But then he remembered that he knew everything that was happening to Draco and still he didn't say a thing. He never really had witnessed a lot of it happening, just a lot of crude language and hurtful comments but he had heard of things that were happening.

But still.

It made him just as bad as the people that were hurting him.

But really what could he do?

And besides, he shouldn't be thinking about this anyway, Draco had always been nothing but an arse to him, he definitely didn't deserve his pity.

But when he watched the blond leave the hall and saw two large 7th year Gryffindors follow him he couldn't help but follow too.

Draco had tried to sit down and eat something, for he had been starving himself for a couple days, too afraid to take a step into the Great Hall out of fear that someone may hurt him again but it had become too much to handle.

The death glares that had been sent his way…the judgmental glances were driving him insane with guilt and pain. Maybe he could come back later and beg one of the house elves to pity him and give him something to eat.

He thought that maybe going outside and getting some fresh air and watching the sunset would clear his mind but he had been wrong.

It wasn't as if he expected people to follow him but as they cornered him into a wall and towered over him it stopped mattering to him.

Any pain that may be inflicted upon him he deserved. So as they got closer and grabbed his shirt and shoved him hard against the wall he didn't struggle because he had nothing left in him to fight. All ambitions and all goals were gone. There was nothing.

"You disgust me, death eater" One of them whispered into his ear.

"I disgust myself too" He said so quietly that neither of them heard. The one holding him against the wall raised his fist and was just about to swing when-

"Stop!" Someone screamed running up to his attackers, "Let him go!" And they did. They let him go and Draco fell to the ground, pulling his legs up to his chest. Draco wondered who would ever think to stop people from hurting him. After all everyone in this goddamn school seemed to want him dead and it must be someone goddamn important for them to actually listen.

But when his attackers finally moved out of the way his questions had been answered.

His eyes fell upon the familiar mop of black hair and bright emerald eyes and his heart stopped. Harry Potter. The boy who lived. He stood there eye level with his attackers and Draco wondered when he had gotten so tall. His body had filled out and he had to admit he looked rather fit.

But his looks shouldn't really matter right now. What mattered right now was the fact that he had saved Draco from getting hurt.

Why would he do something like that?

Potter continued to ramble on about how sick this made him and how they should be disgusted with themselves. Soon after they left and he watched Potter as he sighed and ran a hand through his messy raven hair.

Then his striking eyes fell upon Draco's trembling form and his eyes softened.

He walked over to where Draco was sitting and knelt down to talk to him.

"Are you okay?" He asked him.

Draco didn't say a word.

"I'm really sorry…about those guys" He sighed again "I'm sorry about a lot of things. You really don't deserve that shit."

This just seemed to make Draco angry.

"Of course I deserve it" He said.

"What?" Potter said, confused.

"I deserve it, all of it, don't pretend like you think I don't" Draco wanted to sound stronger, but his voice was shaky and he knew he came off as terrified.

"Draco…you don't deserve this" Potter sounded almost concerned, "Nobody deserves to be hurt."

"Well I do" He tried to get up but he was shaking too much to stand on his own, so much to his displeasure (and some delight not like he would admit it) Potter helped him stand, "I don't know why you stopped them, Potter, but I don't need your pity."

And with that, he was gone.