Behind the Mask
By the Black Goddess
Draco's problems are discovered. What will happen now? A sort-of sequel to 'Demons' so you might want to read that first. You probably don't have to though. (I know I never bother when anyone else says that!)
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd publish this and make some money out of it!
"Watch what you're doing, Weasley" sneered Draco. "If you damage those robes you won't be able to afford any more." His stomach was knotted into a ball of tension and his hip hurt from the wounds he had inflicted on himself the night before. Lately, his remedy for the problems of life had been working less and less. The cuts he inflicted now were considerably deeper than those he had inflicted when he had begun his habit and he was cutting himself more often to achieve the same feeling of peace. Inwardly he fumed at how quickly his 'cure' had run out, his sense of helplessness making him look for any distraction from the thoughts inside him.
"Screw you Malfoy!" snarled Ron from his precarious perch halfway up a tree, where he had gone to retrieve his hat.
"I know I'm desirable, but you shouldn't kid yourself into thinking I'd ever be desperate enough to go anywhere near you" responded Draco.
Ron forgot about his hat and launched himself at Draco from his vantage point halfway up the tree. Draco, who had not been expecting the attack, went down with a yell, Ron's bony knee jabbing into the cuts on his hip causing him to let out a high-pitched scream. Ron's fist met his eye, and Draco automatically lashed out. At first all he wanted was to get Ron off him; the pain in his hip was excruciating and now his eye hurt as well, but as he struck the first blow he lost control. He began screaming abuse, which started with Ron and branched off into a furious rant about life in general. Ron was completely overwhelmed. He had fought before, but this was not normal fighting. Malfoy had completely lost it and was fighting with rage and desperation. There was no possible defence. All Ron could do was hope that someone broke it up before Malfoy killed him. In between trying to dodge the hammer-blows the other boy was inflicting Ron could see that he was crying. Over Malfoy's tirade he could hear Crabbe and Goyle yelling for Malfoy to get off him and Harry yelling for Crabbe and Goyle to do something. He could hear Hermione chanting something, knew she was going to do something. He heard Hagrid yelling, and suddenly Malfoy was grabbed off him. Ron pulled himself slowly to his feet as Harry and Hermione rushed over.
"Oh my God!" Hermione gasped. "Are you all right?"
"We couldn't do anything" babbled Harry. "He was like a madman - he actually punched Goyle in the eye when he tried to split you up!"
"I'm OK. Been better." said Ron, his eyes fixed on Malfoy who was still dangling from Hagrid's hand. His face was blotched and tearstained, though he had stopped shouting. He looked dazed, as if he wasn't sure what had happened. Ron suddenly noticed a patch of liquid on Malfoy's robes, just over his right hip. As he looked, the stain grew bigger.
"Come with me, all of yeh" snapped Hagrid, his normal cheerful grin absent. "And the rest of yeh, clear off! There's no more to see here." He lowered Malfoy to the ground, where he was immediately flanked by his two henchmen, and motioned for all six to follow him. Ron noticed with wry amusement (or as much amusement as he could muster with two black eyes, a nosebleed, what felt like two cracked ribs and a limp) that Crabbe and Goyle were keeping a wary distance from their friend, who still looked confused. As Ron watched, Malfoy put a hand to his hip. It came away dripping red. The expression on Malfoy's face was one Ron would always remember. He looked terrified, yet somehow relieved, and slightly triumphant. The expression passed however, to be replaced with a look of pain as he began to follow Hagrid to the hospital wing.
"All of you stay here" said Hagrid gruffly. "I'm going to fetch the Heads of your Houses, and then you can explain this." He disappeared, leaving Madame Pomfrey to assess the damage, returning quickly followed by Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. Snape cast a quick, sneering glance over them all. Ron saw him double-take and look back at him. Ron knew he must look terrible. His eyes and upper lip had swollen and he could feel a bruise appearing on his jaw.
"What has been going on?" snapped McGonagall, glaring at Malfoy. "Hagrid told us that he heard shouting and had to pull you off Mr Weasley here. Would you like to explain yourself?"
"No" said Draco calmly.
There was a stunned pause. Everyone was staring at Professor McGonagall, waiting to see how she would react. Everyone except Snape that is. He was looking at Draco warily, as if he was a dangerous and unpredictable animal. There was something that looked almost like pity in his eyes.
"What do you mean by that?" hissed McGonagall.
"I mean that I have no explanation that I wish to give." said Draco. He looked tired more than anything, not defiant or angry, just tired. His face was still streaked with tears.
"Miss Granger, would you like to explain?"
Hermione looked doubtful. It looked as if Draco didn't want to get Ron into trouble, and it somehow didn't seem fair to drop him in it. She quailed under the teacher's icy gaze however, and mumbled
"Draco made a remark and Ron hit him. Then Draco hit him back and they were split up."
"Oh really?" said McGonagall. "If that was all, why do both Mr Malfoy and Mr Goyle have black eyes, and why is Mr Weasley in such a dreadful state?" Hermione flushed and stared at the floor.
"What did he say?" McGonagall asked Ron. "None of you will be allowed to leave here, or have medical treatment for their injuries until I have the full story."
"Malfoy said I was poor." said Ron gloomily. "Then he said I was gay. Then I hit him"
"And?"
"Malfoy went mental" said Harry flatly. "Ron jumped out of the tree on top of Malfoy and.."
"Jumped out of a tree?" interrupted McGonagall in surprise.
"His hat had blown away and got stuck in the tree. He was trying to get it back when Malfoy told him if he ripped his robes he couldn't afford any more. Ron told him to go away, Malfoy made the gay remark and Ron went for him"
"You jumped on him out of a tree?" said Snape, his eyes glittering. Ron nodded dumbly.
"Then what?" asked McGonagall.
"His fist hit my eye and his knee hit my hip" said Draco calmly. His voice sounded flat, but Harry could see him shaking.
"It hurt and I hit him. Then I 'went mental' as Harry put it."
"Are you bleeding?" asked McGonagall, taking in the stain over Draco's hip for the first time. "What on earth are your knees made of?" she said, turning to Ron in surprise.
"He opened the wounds again" said Draco, still in the same flat monotone. It was as if he was operating on autopilot, he looked blank and didn't seem to be paying attention to what was happening around him.
"Like I said, it hurt. It's funny how much the hipbones hurt" he said dreamily. "You wouldn't think of them as a particularly sensitive area would you? I was angry anyway and that pushed me over the edge. Weasley was just unlucky, that's all"
"What wounds?" said McGonagall warily. Calmly Draco pulled his robes carefully aside, revealing the top of his boxer shorts. Everyone could see they were soaked in blood. Carefully, deliberately, Draco lowered his boxers just enough to reveal the once-white pad of a bandage over his right hip and an ugly array of criss-crossed scars on the other, some fresh, some older and some healed. Holding his robes over himself with one hand, Draco removed the blood-soaked dressing, showing them all a deep gash, two or three inches long, carved into his hip. It was this cut that was bleeding.
"I got a bit carried away last night" said Draco softly, not looking at anyone, his eyes fixed on his hip and the blood oozing from the wound "and that great clumsy idiot went and put his knee straight into it. Of course I lost it."
"How long has this been going on?" whispered McGonagall. Her face was pale and she looked stunned.
"Ages" said Draco. "I've got it written down somewhere - it's good to keep track of your addictions"
"Why?" said Hermione softly. To Draco's surprise he noticed she was crying.
"I am an actor, but I can't act all the time" he said softly. "I get just as angry as anyone else, but mostly I'm angry with myself. This channels my aggression in a way that doesn't harm anyone else, and I deserve it anyway"
"No one does!" said Harry sharply.
"Yes I do!" shouted Malfoy, the calm, detached air vanishing completely. "I'm weak and worthless and a coward, and I deserve everything I get and even more besides!" Tears were streaming down his face as he stood, the shocking red of the blood and scars standing out against his white skin. Professor McGonagall hurried forward quickly and led him to the edge of a bed, gently pulling his robes so they covered him. Draco sank down onto the bed, one hand holding his robes together, the other covering his face. His shoulders shook with sobs.
"The rest of you had better leave." she said softly. "Poppy, could you sort out Mr Goyle's black eye? You'd better stay too" she said, glancing at Ron and seeming to remember his injuries for the first time. "Is there a room prepared where Draco can be alone?" she asked Madame Pomfrey who was busy muttering something and pointing at Goyle's eye with her wand. Both Crabbe and Goyle looked stunned, as if they had been hit with a particularly large truck and then told that the Tooth Fairy wasn't real.
"Don't want to be alone" choked Draco.
"The rest of you go!" said McGonagall quickly. "Say nothing about this to anyone."
Harry and Hermione left reluctantly with concerned glances at both Ron and Draco. Crabbe and Goyle followed, Goyle's eye now as good as new, still looking confused. Ron sat down on the bed opposite Draco's, not caring whether he was supposed to or not, just determined to get the weight off his ankle. Madame Pomfrey was bustling around gathering bandages and a basin of hot water. Snape and McGonagall were conferring in whispers. Draco was crying as if he would never stop. Madame Pomfrey came over to Ron.
"Lets check you over then" she said briskly. She used the same spell on Ron's eyes as she had used on Goyle's and gave him a potion to drink to ease the pain in his ribs and ankle.
"You'll have to wait, I'm afraid" she said. "Mr Malfoy needs attending to before I can do anything more than make you comfy" Ron nodded and leaned back against the pillow.
"Draco, we need you to tell us as calmly as you can what's been going on" said Snape, his tone more sensitive than Ron had ever heard it. Malfoy took several deep shuddering breaths and began to grow calmer.
"You mustn't tell my father" he said softly. "He will not forgive me for disgracing the family name."
"Is that what this is about? Your father?" asked Snape.
"It's basically about everything."
"Can you be more specific?" asked Snape. Professor McGonagall had left, and at that point she reappeared quietly. Professor Dumbledore was with her. Draco didn't seem to see them, or if he did he didn't care.
"It's difficult to know where to start. I was never expecting to have to tell anyone this. One reason I do this is that I don't have the right words anyway." He paused and sniffled slightly. The atmosphere in the room was electric. The only person moving was Madame Pomfrey, who was preparing a potion for Draco to drink before she attended to the cuts on his hip.
"Have you ever been so angry that you want to lash out, but know there is no target, no one who deserves what you would do to them if you lost control? Have you ever knowingly painted yourself into a corner that is impossible to escape from, and been too afraid to try?" Snape nodded quietly.
"I hate myself for being afraid" said Draco, his tone filled with venom, more venom than Ron had ever heard in it before. Somehow it was made even more terrible because the hatred in Malfoy's voice was all directed at himself.
"I hate myself for being so weak as to allow every detail of my life to be dictated to me by others. I hate myself for not even voicing my doubts but just pretending everything's OK. I hate myself for being weak enough to do exactly what my father wants, even when he isn't here in case he find out and tells me I disappoint him. I hate having to live a lie - to express views I don't have and do things I don't mean simply because I am afraid of what my father will say if I do anything else. I hate myself for being weak and afraid and useless and pathetic and I hate all of you for not noticing that I'm here and I'm alone and frightened and not helping me." Malfoy stared belligerently round the room, tears pouring down his face as he dared them to say something.
"Drink this" said Madame Pomfrey into the pause. "It's just painkillers. I need to attend to that cut."
Draco shook his head.
"I deserve it!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "Don't you understand? I did this to myself! It wasn't the first time and it won't be the last! I chose it and I deserve it. My only freedom is in the cutting - in the pain. It's the only choice I make for myself - the only control I have over my life. Are you going to take that from me?"
"If you get an infection in that cut then you could be seriously ill" said Madame Pomfrey gently. "You are in no condition to make any serious decisions. When I have attended to your wounds, you can consider your options. Until then, yes, I am going to take it from you. That cut is too deep to leave unattended."
"Why haven't you killed yourself?" asked Ron, confused and sickened by what he just heard.
"Ron, that is not helpful" snapped Professor McGonagall.
"Because I don't want to die" said Draco emptily. The tired, hollow look was back on his face. He reached for the potion and downed it in one. He shuddered at the taste, and continued.
"I want to be free, not dead. I want to be allowed to make my own choices. This is the only choice I can make right now, but there'll be other choices soon. This just helps me to keep it together until I get those other choices. I only have to wait, and not go crazy while I wait"
"So cutting yourself isn't crazy?" said Ron sceptically, watching Madame Pomfrey suture the wound on Malfoy's hip, trying not to look at Malfoy's face. Malfoy didn't even seem aware of her presence.
"Not at first, not when I could control it. Now, I'm not sure. It's addictive you see. All you do is take the knife and make some lines. It doesn't hurt at the time and takes away the bad emotions. The first few times it's just great - the answer. But after a while, the high gets less. The bad emotions don't go as much, and you start to realise that it's not really helping. But by then, I couldn't think of anything else. It's only for a while." he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself. "Only until things get better. Only until I can cope another way. I just have to get through the bad times." He fell silent, staring at the ceiling.
"Can I stop now?" he said, his voice sounding very young and afraid. "I don't want to talk any more."
"I've finished with you now." said Madame Pomfrey, handing him another potion to drink. "This will put you to sleep and help those cuts heal quickly with less scarring. There will be some marks, but they'll be small and barely visible" Draco drank the potion without comment. Then he leaned back and fell fast asleep.
Madame Pomfrey bustled over to Ron and began to deal expertly with his injuries. Ron could hear the three teachers discussing their options in low voices. He didn't try to overhear them - all he wanted now was to have his injuries healed and to go away, back to his normal life where he could pretend that none of this had happened. The idea of someone inflicting such pain onto themselves willingly, of hating themselves that much was completely foreign to him, and he couldn't understand it. This was something he had never experienced and couldn't understand, something that scared him on many levels. He didn't know what to do, and all he wanted was to run away into a life where everyone made their own choices and had control over their lives.
"I assume we don't need to tell you to keep what you have heard here to yourself do I?" asked Professor Dumbledore gravely as Ron stood up to leave, the last of his injuries healed.
"No Professor" stammered Ron, glancing involuntarily back at the pale figure in bloodstained robes lying on the bed.
Dumbledore nodded at him and Ron opened the door and walked out, still trying to fit the morning's events into a pattern that he could understand. He headed for the Great Hall, where he knew his friends would be eating dinner, still thinking furiously.
"Well, are you OK?" asked Hermione when he slid into the seat next to her.
"Yeah. Madame Pomfrey fixed me up as good as new."
"That's good" said Harry, eating a mouthful of steak and kidney pie.
"How's Malfoy?" asked Hermione in a low voice.
"Madame Pomfrey gave him a sleeping potion" said Ron, helping himself to potatoes.
"Did he say why he'd done it?" asked Hermione, looking as if she felt guilty for asking, but simply had to know.
"Nothing I could understand." said Ron shortly. "Can we just forget it?" Hermione nodded sadly and changed the subject.
There you go! This really is the end this time - I shouldn't think there'll be any more to this now. I do not promote self harm as a way of dealing with problems, and I don't claim to know a lot about the subject, so please don't flame because this doesn't reflect your experience. On the other hand of course, any information and comments are welcome, especially suggestions for improvements. You can put them in your REVIEW!
By the Black Goddess
Draco's problems are discovered. What will happen now? A sort-of sequel to 'Demons' so you might want to read that first. You probably don't have to though. (I know I never bother when anyone else says that!)
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd publish this and make some money out of it!
"Watch what you're doing, Weasley" sneered Draco. "If you damage those robes you won't be able to afford any more." His stomach was knotted into a ball of tension and his hip hurt from the wounds he had inflicted on himself the night before. Lately, his remedy for the problems of life had been working less and less. The cuts he inflicted now were considerably deeper than those he had inflicted when he had begun his habit and he was cutting himself more often to achieve the same feeling of peace. Inwardly he fumed at how quickly his 'cure' had run out, his sense of helplessness making him look for any distraction from the thoughts inside him.
"Screw you Malfoy!" snarled Ron from his precarious perch halfway up a tree, where he had gone to retrieve his hat.
"I know I'm desirable, but you shouldn't kid yourself into thinking I'd ever be desperate enough to go anywhere near you" responded Draco.
Ron forgot about his hat and launched himself at Draco from his vantage point halfway up the tree. Draco, who had not been expecting the attack, went down with a yell, Ron's bony knee jabbing into the cuts on his hip causing him to let out a high-pitched scream. Ron's fist met his eye, and Draco automatically lashed out. At first all he wanted was to get Ron off him; the pain in his hip was excruciating and now his eye hurt as well, but as he struck the first blow he lost control. He began screaming abuse, which started with Ron and branched off into a furious rant about life in general. Ron was completely overwhelmed. He had fought before, but this was not normal fighting. Malfoy had completely lost it and was fighting with rage and desperation. There was no possible defence. All Ron could do was hope that someone broke it up before Malfoy killed him. In between trying to dodge the hammer-blows the other boy was inflicting Ron could see that he was crying. Over Malfoy's tirade he could hear Crabbe and Goyle yelling for Malfoy to get off him and Harry yelling for Crabbe and Goyle to do something. He could hear Hermione chanting something, knew she was going to do something. He heard Hagrid yelling, and suddenly Malfoy was grabbed off him. Ron pulled himself slowly to his feet as Harry and Hermione rushed over.
"Oh my God!" Hermione gasped. "Are you all right?"
"We couldn't do anything" babbled Harry. "He was like a madman - he actually punched Goyle in the eye when he tried to split you up!"
"I'm OK. Been better." said Ron, his eyes fixed on Malfoy who was still dangling from Hagrid's hand. His face was blotched and tearstained, though he had stopped shouting. He looked dazed, as if he wasn't sure what had happened. Ron suddenly noticed a patch of liquid on Malfoy's robes, just over his right hip. As he looked, the stain grew bigger.
"Come with me, all of yeh" snapped Hagrid, his normal cheerful grin absent. "And the rest of yeh, clear off! There's no more to see here." He lowered Malfoy to the ground, where he was immediately flanked by his two henchmen, and motioned for all six to follow him. Ron noticed with wry amusement (or as much amusement as he could muster with two black eyes, a nosebleed, what felt like two cracked ribs and a limp) that Crabbe and Goyle were keeping a wary distance from their friend, who still looked confused. As Ron watched, Malfoy put a hand to his hip. It came away dripping red. The expression on Malfoy's face was one Ron would always remember. He looked terrified, yet somehow relieved, and slightly triumphant. The expression passed however, to be replaced with a look of pain as he began to follow Hagrid to the hospital wing.
"All of you stay here" said Hagrid gruffly. "I'm going to fetch the Heads of your Houses, and then you can explain this." He disappeared, leaving Madame Pomfrey to assess the damage, returning quickly followed by Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall. Snape cast a quick, sneering glance over them all. Ron saw him double-take and look back at him. Ron knew he must look terrible. His eyes and upper lip had swollen and he could feel a bruise appearing on his jaw.
"What has been going on?" snapped McGonagall, glaring at Malfoy. "Hagrid told us that he heard shouting and had to pull you off Mr Weasley here. Would you like to explain yourself?"
"No" said Draco calmly.
There was a stunned pause. Everyone was staring at Professor McGonagall, waiting to see how she would react. Everyone except Snape that is. He was looking at Draco warily, as if he was a dangerous and unpredictable animal. There was something that looked almost like pity in his eyes.
"What do you mean by that?" hissed McGonagall.
"I mean that I have no explanation that I wish to give." said Draco. He looked tired more than anything, not defiant or angry, just tired. His face was still streaked with tears.
"Miss Granger, would you like to explain?"
Hermione looked doubtful. It looked as if Draco didn't want to get Ron into trouble, and it somehow didn't seem fair to drop him in it. She quailed under the teacher's icy gaze however, and mumbled
"Draco made a remark and Ron hit him. Then Draco hit him back and they were split up."
"Oh really?" said McGonagall. "If that was all, why do both Mr Malfoy and Mr Goyle have black eyes, and why is Mr Weasley in such a dreadful state?" Hermione flushed and stared at the floor.
"What did he say?" McGonagall asked Ron. "None of you will be allowed to leave here, or have medical treatment for their injuries until I have the full story."
"Malfoy said I was poor." said Ron gloomily. "Then he said I was gay. Then I hit him"
"And?"
"Malfoy went mental" said Harry flatly. "Ron jumped out of the tree on top of Malfoy and.."
"Jumped out of a tree?" interrupted McGonagall in surprise.
"His hat had blown away and got stuck in the tree. He was trying to get it back when Malfoy told him if he ripped his robes he couldn't afford any more. Ron told him to go away, Malfoy made the gay remark and Ron went for him"
"You jumped on him out of a tree?" said Snape, his eyes glittering. Ron nodded dumbly.
"Then what?" asked McGonagall.
"His fist hit my eye and his knee hit my hip" said Draco calmly. His voice sounded flat, but Harry could see him shaking.
"It hurt and I hit him. Then I 'went mental' as Harry put it."
"Are you bleeding?" asked McGonagall, taking in the stain over Draco's hip for the first time. "What on earth are your knees made of?" she said, turning to Ron in surprise.
"He opened the wounds again" said Draco, still in the same flat monotone. It was as if he was operating on autopilot, he looked blank and didn't seem to be paying attention to what was happening around him.
"Like I said, it hurt. It's funny how much the hipbones hurt" he said dreamily. "You wouldn't think of them as a particularly sensitive area would you? I was angry anyway and that pushed me over the edge. Weasley was just unlucky, that's all"
"What wounds?" said McGonagall warily. Calmly Draco pulled his robes carefully aside, revealing the top of his boxer shorts. Everyone could see they were soaked in blood. Carefully, deliberately, Draco lowered his boxers just enough to reveal the once-white pad of a bandage over his right hip and an ugly array of criss-crossed scars on the other, some fresh, some older and some healed. Holding his robes over himself with one hand, Draco removed the blood-soaked dressing, showing them all a deep gash, two or three inches long, carved into his hip. It was this cut that was bleeding.
"I got a bit carried away last night" said Draco softly, not looking at anyone, his eyes fixed on his hip and the blood oozing from the wound "and that great clumsy idiot went and put his knee straight into it. Of course I lost it."
"How long has this been going on?" whispered McGonagall. Her face was pale and she looked stunned.
"Ages" said Draco. "I've got it written down somewhere - it's good to keep track of your addictions"
"Why?" said Hermione softly. To Draco's surprise he noticed she was crying.
"I am an actor, but I can't act all the time" he said softly. "I get just as angry as anyone else, but mostly I'm angry with myself. This channels my aggression in a way that doesn't harm anyone else, and I deserve it anyway"
"No one does!" said Harry sharply.
"Yes I do!" shouted Malfoy, the calm, detached air vanishing completely. "I'm weak and worthless and a coward, and I deserve everything I get and even more besides!" Tears were streaming down his face as he stood, the shocking red of the blood and scars standing out against his white skin. Professor McGonagall hurried forward quickly and led him to the edge of a bed, gently pulling his robes so they covered him. Draco sank down onto the bed, one hand holding his robes together, the other covering his face. His shoulders shook with sobs.
"The rest of you had better leave." she said softly. "Poppy, could you sort out Mr Goyle's black eye? You'd better stay too" she said, glancing at Ron and seeming to remember his injuries for the first time. "Is there a room prepared where Draco can be alone?" she asked Madame Pomfrey who was busy muttering something and pointing at Goyle's eye with her wand. Both Crabbe and Goyle looked stunned, as if they had been hit with a particularly large truck and then told that the Tooth Fairy wasn't real.
"Don't want to be alone" choked Draco.
"The rest of you go!" said McGonagall quickly. "Say nothing about this to anyone."
Harry and Hermione left reluctantly with concerned glances at both Ron and Draco. Crabbe and Goyle followed, Goyle's eye now as good as new, still looking confused. Ron sat down on the bed opposite Draco's, not caring whether he was supposed to or not, just determined to get the weight off his ankle. Madame Pomfrey was bustling around gathering bandages and a basin of hot water. Snape and McGonagall were conferring in whispers. Draco was crying as if he would never stop. Madame Pomfrey came over to Ron.
"Lets check you over then" she said briskly. She used the same spell on Ron's eyes as she had used on Goyle's and gave him a potion to drink to ease the pain in his ribs and ankle.
"You'll have to wait, I'm afraid" she said. "Mr Malfoy needs attending to before I can do anything more than make you comfy" Ron nodded and leaned back against the pillow.
"Draco, we need you to tell us as calmly as you can what's been going on" said Snape, his tone more sensitive than Ron had ever heard it. Malfoy took several deep shuddering breaths and began to grow calmer.
"You mustn't tell my father" he said softly. "He will not forgive me for disgracing the family name."
"Is that what this is about? Your father?" asked Snape.
"It's basically about everything."
"Can you be more specific?" asked Snape. Professor McGonagall had left, and at that point she reappeared quietly. Professor Dumbledore was with her. Draco didn't seem to see them, or if he did he didn't care.
"It's difficult to know where to start. I was never expecting to have to tell anyone this. One reason I do this is that I don't have the right words anyway." He paused and sniffled slightly. The atmosphere in the room was electric. The only person moving was Madame Pomfrey, who was preparing a potion for Draco to drink before she attended to the cuts on his hip.
"Have you ever been so angry that you want to lash out, but know there is no target, no one who deserves what you would do to them if you lost control? Have you ever knowingly painted yourself into a corner that is impossible to escape from, and been too afraid to try?" Snape nodded quietly.
"I hate myself for being afraid" said Draco, his tone filled with venom, more venom than Ron had ever heard in it before. Somehow it was made even more terrible because the hatred in Malfoy's voice was all directed at himself.
"I hate myself for being so weak as to allow every detail of my life to be dictated to me by others. I hate myself for not even voicing my doubts but just pretending everything's OK. I hate myself for being weak enough to do exactly what my father wants, even when he isn't here in case he find out and tells me I disappoint him. I hate having to live a lie - to express views I don't have and do things I don't mean simply because I am afraid of what my father will say if I do anything else. I hate myself for being weak and afraid and useless and pathetic and I hate all of you for not noticing that I'm here and I'm alone and frightened and not helping me." Malfoy stared belligerently round the room, tears pouring down his face as he dared them to say something.
"Drink this" said Madame Pomfrey into the pause. "It's just painkillers. I need to attend to that cut."
Draco shook his head.
"I deserve it!" he yelled, his voice cracking. "Don't you understand? I did this to myself! It wasn't the first time and it won't be the last! I chose it and I deserve it. My only freedom is in the cutting - in the pain. It's the only choice I make for myself - the only control I have over my life. Are you going to take that from me?"
"If you get an infection in that cut then you could be seriously ill" said Madame Pomfrey gently. "You are in no condition to make any serious decisions. When I have attended to your wounds, you can consider your options. Until then, yes, I am going to take it from you. That cut is too deep to leave unattended."
"Why haven't you killed yourself?" asked Ron, confused and sickened by what he just heard.
"Ron, that is not helpful" snapped Professor McGonagall.
"Because I don't want to die" said Draco emptily. The tired, hollow look was back on his face. He reached for the potion and downed it in one. He shuddered at the taste, and continued.
"I want to be free, not dead. I want to be allowed to make my own choices. This is the only choice I can make right now, but there'll be other choices soon. This just helps me to keep it together until I get those other choices. I only have to wait, and not go crazy while I wait"
"So cutting yourself isn't crazy?" said Ron sceptically, watching Madame Pomfrey suture the wound on Malfoy's hip, trying not to look at Malfoy's face. Malfoy didn't even seem aware of her presence.
"Not at first, not when I could control it. Now, I'm not sure. It's addictive you see. All you do is take the knife and make some lines. It doesn't hurt at the time and takes away the bad emotions. The first few times it's just great - the answer. But after a while, the high gets less. The bad emotions don't go as much, and you start to realise that it's not really helping. But by then, I couldn't think of anything else. It's only for a while." he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself. "Only until things get better. Only until I can cope another way. I just have to get through the bad times." He fell silent, staring at the ceiling.
"Can I stop now?" he said, his voice sounding very young and afraid. "I don't want to talk any more."
"I've finished with you now." said Madame Pomfrey, handing him another potion to drink. "This will put you to sleep and help those cuts heal quickly with less scarring. There will be some marks, but they'll be small and barely visible" Draco drank the potion without comment. Then he leaned back and fell fast asleep.
Madame Pomfrey bustled over to Ron and began to deal expertly with his injuries. Ron could hear the three teachers discussing their options in low voices. He didn't try to overhear them - all he wanted now was to have his injuries healed and to go away, back to his normal life where he could pretend that none of this had happened. The idea of someone inflicting such pain onto themselves willingly, of hating themselves that much was completely foreign to him, and he couldn't understand it. This was something he had never experienced and couldn't understand, something that scared him on many levels. He didn't know what to do, and all he wanted was to run away into a life where everyone made their own choices and had control over their lives.
"I assume we don't need to tell you to keep what you have heard here to yourself do I?" asked Professor Dumbledore gravely as Ron stood up to leave, the last of his injuries healed.
"No Professor" stammered Ron, glancing involuntarily back at the pale figure in bloodstained robes lying on the bed.
Dumbledore nodded at him and Ron opened the door and walked out, still trying to fit the morning's events into a pattern that he could understand. He headed for the Great Hall, where he knew his friends would be eating dinner, still thinking furiously.
"Well, are you OK?" asked Hermione when he slid into the seat next to her.
"Yeah. Madame Pomfrey fixed me up as good as new."
"That's good" said Harry, eating a mouthful of steak and kidney pie.
"How's Malfoy?" asked Hermione in a low voice.
"Madame Pomfrey gave him a sleeping potion" said Ron, helping himself to potatoes.
"Did he say why he'd done it?" asked Hermione, looking as if she felt guilty for asking, but simply had to know.
"Nothing I could understand." said Ron shortly. "Can we just forget it?" Hermione nodded sadly and changed the subject.
There you go! This really is the end this time - I shouldn't think there'll be any more to this now. I do not promote self harm as a way of dealing with problems, and I don't claim to know a lot about the subject, so please don't flame because this doesn't reflect your experience. On the other hand of course, any information and comments are welcome, especially suggestions for improvements. You can put them in your REVIEW!
