TRIGGER WARNING: Self harm/suicidal thoughts

Chapter 6: Date the Girl Who Lifts Your Burdens, If Only for A Moment

The entire world felt like it was caving in around Draco. Failures stacked upon him, weighing him down like the world atop Atlas' shoulders. He ran across the grounds, caring very little about who may see him flee. He had to get out into the cool March air, to breathe in the crisp cleanness it brought.

His feet carried him of their own accord and he paid little mind to where he might end up. Anywhere was better than inside that hellhole of a castle.

Where he ended up was just past the boat docks where the first years entered every year, out toward the railroad tracks. If he just followed the tracks out, he could follow them across Scotland and just keep going. No one would know him outside of wizarding England. No one would care about the boy with the strange tattoo and the ethereal grey eyes.

A gentle breeze carried the night air, and he closed his eyes to breathe it in. He stood looking out over the Black Lake, at the lapping waves at his feet. He wished the waves would swell up and take him into the dark depths of the lake. Maybe then, he'd finally be free. Free of the stress and pain and sorrow.

His arm ached and he placed a hand over his shirt, covering the Mark with his palm. Heat radiated from it though the rest of him felt like ice. Draco sat on a boulder near the water before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing a blade he nicked from the potions classroom.

An agonizing shiver racked his body as he held the blade between his lips and rolled his sleeves up. The Mark, etched with black ink, had a raised scarlet outline that alternated between itching and burning. The mark itself refused to heal properly, no matter how much Essence of Murtlap or Dittany he rubbed over it. It festered and scabbed, just to begin bleeding again within a fortnight.

His other arm was littered with raised scars of violet, red, and faded white. Where one ended, a new one began until his flesh looked as though he'd run his fist through a window. With a glance at the mincemeat that was his left arm, he extracted the blade from his lips and ran it methodically over a scrap of alabaster near his right palm.

A bead of blood bloomed over his wrist, a rose blossom on snow. He hissed through his teeth at the sting. No matter how often he brought the blade to his skin, each cut still sent a shiver of pain through him. He smiled then, for this pain was something—the one thing—he controlled. Not his father, not his aunt, not the Dark Lord.

"What are you doing out after hours, Malfoy?"

Draco jumped at the voice, the blade falling to the ground as he raised his wand and struggled to unroll his shirt sleeves. "Who's there?" he questioned, striding the direction he'd heard it.

The light on the end of his wand illuminated the figure of a girl, rising into a sitting position within one of the boats. Granger. With a long-suffering sigh, he lowered his wand and began his trek back toward the castle, his evening of wallowing officially ruined. The witch snapped the cover of a book shut in her lap and held her own wand limply in her hand. "Wait! Draco!"

Wrinkling his brow, Draco stopped at the sound of her calling his given name. He rolled his eyes as she climbed out of the moored boat. Her footsteps over the wooden jetty echoed, far too loud to his ears. His arm itched and burned; he tried to be subtle in his efforts to rub it against his side to alleviate the discomfort. Granger's eyes narrowed as she looked him over. "Are you alright? You're bleeding."

He crossed his arms over his chest, careful to tuck the stains. "Are you going to dock House points or what? It's getting cold and I'm really not in the mood."

She hugged the book to herself, her eyes jumping from his arms to his face. Feeling self-conscious under her scrutiny, he looked over her shoulder toward the lake once more. He should have turned and run toward the castle, cut her down with a vicious slur, obliviated her and sent her on her way. But Draco was exhausted and felt panic searing through him, making his heart race. To stand in her presence without verbally sparring was odd indeed, though he made no effort to run.

Granger gestured to where he'd been sitting previously, taking a few tentative steps toward the lake. His discarded blade gleamed under the light of her wand and a lump formed in his throat. There was no way she hadn't seen it. She had the grace to step around it and Draco vanished the offending weapon as he followed her.

His stomach flopped as he stood next to where she hung her legs over the boulder toward the lake's surface, staring down at her in bewilderment. She hadn't launched into a bossy tirade and he found himself curious. Draco dropped to sit next to her, crossing his legs as he leaned forward.

They remained silent for a long moment. Granger looked out over the water toward the greenhouses, absently watching the silhouette of the half-giant Care of Magical Creatures teacher as he moved across the grounds. Draco stared at the grass, fiddling with a blade as he snuck sidelong glances at her profile.

"I don't know what you're going through—"

Draco opened his mouth to protest and she lifted a hand. When she turned to look him fully in the eye, he was rendered speechless by the empathy in her gaze. "Save it. You look awful, you're missing classes, and you're out here doing this." She lifted his right wrist, displaying the scarlet blood stain spreading across the cuff. "So don't try to say everything is just splendid. I don't believe it."

Draco scoffed at the absurdity of her speaking to him of his trials and tribulations. "Yes, well, I'm sure the entirety of the school will know by breakfast. Poor little Draco Malfoy. The pompous-pureblood-prince-turned-self-destructive-failure."

"Why, do you plan on shouting that from the Astronomy Tower?" she questioned, running her finger over the place on his wrist and knitting the cut together with a murmured Tergeo.

Salazar, the Astronomy Tower. There was plenty he was planning to do on the Tower. He wouldn't need to shout it aloud. Dumbledore would kill him and his limp body would be plenty of proof of his incompetence. "I figured you would want to do that honour."

Granger raised her eyes to meet his and she pursed her lips at the acid in his tone, letting go of his hand and leaving him feeling desolate. "There's something big getting ready to happen. I don't know what, and I don't know how you come into play, but I can feel it. We all can. It's been building for months and it feels as though we're teetering on the precipice."

If only you knew. If only I could tell you. Draco said nothing, the grim and morbid countenance he'd taken to washing over him once more. "I suppose you're going to tell me that whatever it is I am set to do, I don't have to go through with it. To extend an olive branch and tell me to do the noble thing and join the Order."

She simply stared out over the lake and sighed. "No. Not at all. I know it's not in your heart to do whatever it is you've been tasked to do, but if you're set on carrying through with it, then someone or something you love must be threatened. I can't sit here and say that I wouldn't do questionable things to save those I love."

Granger turned to look at him again. He bit the inside of his cheek, mulling over what she said. If she only knew exactly what he was to do, who he was to kill, she wouldn't say such things. "Seems stupid to worry about things like charms class now, doesn't it?" he asked, tapping a finger to the book in her lap.

She drew her lip between her teeth and traced the letters of the book's title. Not a textbook, but a book Draco had skimmed a time or two in the library. "The material in this book could be considered quite questionable."

When their eyes met again, he recognized the hesitance and the turmoil roiling in the mahogany depths of hers. Draco didn't know what she had facing her, but he knew inherently that his actions would set hers into motion. I'm sorry.

Granger sniffed and pushed herself off the ground, clearing her throat to hide her tears. Dread filled him to the brim and he nearly sobbed at the helplessness he felt. Draco followed her lead and brushed the seat of his trousers off and tugged at his shirt cuffs, fidgeting to keep from sharing a cry with her. "We'll be on opposing sides, won't we?" Her voice was tiny, distant.

Draco wanted to look anywhere but her face. His eyes felt drawn to hers, however, and he found himself staring at her, trying to convey everything in just a glance. "I'm sorry."

He said it aloud this time and he tried to tamp down the guilt that began welling at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks. She finally looked away and gave a stiff nod. "Take care of yourself, Malfoy," she whispered. Her next actions surprised him more than any other. She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips over his cheek. Moving around where he stood, Granger took off at a brisk sprint toward the chapel, leaving Draco to stand there with a palm resting over where a smouldering fire had ignited on his cheek.

It was in that moment that Draco wished he could abandon everything he knew. This time, however, not to save himself but to save the girl his father had briefly thought a suitable match. He wanted to see her through the wretchedness that would touch her soon enough. Wanted to feel those lips on his. Thoughts that he had no place thinking swam in his head. Scenes of a future with her. A future he wasn't certain awaited either of them.

As if you'd ever be given the privilege to date the girl.

Draco Malfoy was so fucked.