SrPositivo: To tell you the truth, I don't quite understand the cutting obsession myself, which is why I'm surprised to be getting such massive feedback on this. Typically (and it really shows in my writing), I write sickeningly sweet romantic comedy type things, comedy being the key word. I have a hard time taking things in life too seriously and I intended to write this merely because I wanted a story that was darker than I usually write to give myself a more rounded writing experience.
Daisy8781: Can I be assured in saying you are a fellow fan of Alan? I'm glad you liked what you read and I hope you continue with the story as it progresses.
Tine: Well there's only one chapter here this time but at least I updated, right? The trunk lid fell purely by accident and Draco took it as an opportunity. The reason I made him so – er – hostile in the last couple of chapters is because things are building to a momentum with him and coming to a head, something that I focused on in this chapter.
Tsuyuno: What would the world be without a dramatic Draco Malfoy? It would make no sense. Black would become white; up would become down. Look at me quoting Alan Rickman/Kevin Smith. *sigh*
To everyone else who read or replied, thank you for taking the time to read this and I'm sorry I couldn't respond to more of you but honestly, you'd really rather have the chapter, right?
Just for your information, when this is finished (and it will be every bit as much of an epic as I said it would be) there will be a prequel, a MWPP time period story about Snape and Kali's mother with a bit of angry!jealous!Sirius thrown in. Honestly, I know I'll probably be typecasting but it's going to be fun nonetheless. So a lot of things that happen in this story with the older characters will be revealed in the prequel.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I wouldn't be writing this story, that's for sure. I'd probably be shopping. Just to be safe: I am not JK Rowling, I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I have any affiliation with Harry Potter other than being a loyal fan who purchased all six books (including QTTA and FBAWTFT) and is awaiting Order of the Phoenix.
Falling Chapter Thirteen: Tortured and Taunted
Rushing down the halls of the school, Kali's robes swished behind her as she made a desperate attempt to get back before any of her classmates realized that she had spent the night out of Gryffindor tower. The portraits watched her with great interest as she made the long journey from the dungeons to the seventh floor where she was supposed to be sleeping.
She hadn't meant to fall asleep in her father's lap but after hearing his story, listening to the emotion laced in his tone and having it wrench at her heart, she had become even more tired than she had been before following Harry out of the common room. He hadn't been sleeping much, either, and the story wore them both out. When she awoke a few hours later, it was becoming alarmingly close to the time when the Gryffindors woke up and Kali didn't want to have to explain where she had been all night. Coming back from the dungeons in yesterday's robes would not look good, especially not to Ron, her new boyfriend.
"Pixie Dust," she said to a sleeping fat lady and scurried inside when the portrait swung back. Creeping into the common room, Kali headed for the stairs to the seventh year Girls' dormitory.
"And where were you all night long?"
Turning around, Kali could see Ron standing in the portrait hole that led into his private rooms. He, apparently, knew she had been gone without coming back. The last anyone saw of her was when Snape had caught them sneaking around and asked Kali to follow him. How on earth was she going to explain this? She quickly began to search for the answers she knew Ron would be asking.
"You didn't come back."
Ron's statement was short and to the point. Part of Kali wished he would say more but another part of her was glad that he didn't. She didn't know which side was weighing heavier or would eventually dominate in the end.
"Sorry," she mumbled. "Professor Snape kept me late yelling at me about being new and that it didn't mean I could break the rules. I don't know what our detention is going to be but it doesn't sound good. He just kept going on and on that I fell asleep in his office. I was very tired, you see. When I woke up, he told me that had tried to wake me up but I just wouldn't budge so as soon as I opened my eyes this morning, he sent me straight back here."
"You actually slept in Snape's office?" Kali shrugged, nodding. She had been in his private rooms, just not his office exactly. "That must have been awful. Were you dreadfully tired?" She nodded. "I tried to stay up and wait for you but I dozed off. I got about two hours sleep when I heard you come in. I think I trained my ears to listen for you or something."
Kali smiled at him before crossing to wrap her arms around his neck and pull his lips down to hers for a kiss. Ron smiled back against her lips, bringing his arms around her waist and pulling her to him so that the lengths of their bodies were pressed together. Disappearing into Ron's rooms, they sat by the fire talking and cuddling like they had so often done before until both grew tired from a lack of proper sleep and fell into slumber right there and then.
Once they had awoken, Kali and Ron spent the entire day together with appearances by Harry and Hermione. Late in the afternoon, Blaise had caught Hermione coming back from the library and came into Gryffindor tower with her. No one paid him much attention due to the increasing amount of time he spent in their common room. He was obviously still bothered by the incident that had happened last night and the cheap hit that Draco had taken. They had expected Blaise to be more upset but he waved his hand impatiently, telling them that it didn't matter right now, and proceeded to tell them that Draco was missing. Only an elusive response from Snape proved helpful, which told them that Draco was probably with Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary.
With great reluctance, Kali headed up to her dormitory that night. A big part of her would rather sleep in Ron's rooms but Lavender and Parvati were already squealing with gossip since they thought she had spent the night in Ron's room the previous night. Instead of telling them where she really had been, as "I was sleeping in Professor Snape's rooms" didn't seem appropriate, she headed up and tried to dodge questions about what had gone on with Ron when the doors closed.
~*~
What had he told that Pomfrey bitch again? Draco settled back against the headboard and looked down at his hospital gown. Something about looking for a school book when the lid of his trunk fell and smashed his hand to bits. She was appalled to say the least when she saw what was left of Draco's broken and bloody hand. The potions had been awful and the spells had been painful but the throbbing in his hand gave him something to think about other than the fact that, as much as he didn't want to admit it, he probably did need help. No matter about that. It was a thought to be forgotten.
It was a good thing she had let him change in private after putting on a wicked good performance of being shy about changing in front of her. There was no way that she'd believe the scars and marks on his chest were from the first time he had been cutting himself as most of the cuts were still fresh. The healing bones in his left hand throbbed painfully and he stared down at the thick, bandaged remains of his hand. Turning over his arm, he stared at the healing gash that ran up the length of his skin. That had been an accident in Care of Magical Creatures, according to his story, anyway. Why hadn't he come to her for help? He was Draco Malfoy and he knew how to mend wounds, or at least make them stop bleeding, didn't he? He had been doing it when he was depressed, he reminded her. Maybe he shouldn't have reminded her. The statement was barely uttered when, ten minutes later, he received a visit from the headmaster, Dumbledore himself.
"Ah, Mister Malfoy, I heard about your most unfortunate encounter with you trunk," he said, eyes devoid of their usual twinkle. Gods almighty, did he know? "How is your hand?"
"It hurts," Draco grunted before shifting in his spot and putting on a pained face.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will fix you right up."
"I'm sure she will." In fact, that Pomfrey bitch wouldn't let him leave until she was sure she had fixed him up. "Excuse me, headmaster, but why are you here? Surely it isn't to inquire about the state of my hand."
"Well, no, it isn't, now that you mention it. Draco -" he moved to sit down. "May I?" Draco waved his good hand and Dumbledore took a seat on the side of the bed. "Draco, it has come to my attention that you and Mister Zabini have been experiencing differences as of late. Why is that?"
"He pisses me off." Straight, simple, and to the point. Not to mention, it was probably one of the truer statements he had uttered since coming back to school six weeks ago. One of his better answers.
"Does this have something to do with what happened at the end of last school term?" Draco's eyes faltered and he avoided Dumbledore's gaze. "Ah, yes. Draco, I, once again, give both you and your mother my sincerest condolences. Lucius was a great man. A little misguided, but great nonetheless. What the dementors did to him was terrible at best. It is a wonder that you are still with us considering what a fragile state you were in at the time."
"I wasn't fragile," Draco muttered through his grinding teeth.
"No, no. Of course not. But you mustn't blame yourself. Professor Snape tells me you've been having anger problems. Maybe you would like to consider some sort of therapy program while you're in school. None of the other students would have to know about it. Just someone to talk to on a regular basis."
"No, thank you," he said rather shortly.
"I'd ask you not to disregard this just yet. Give it time and think it over. The offer will still stand whether you choose to accept it now or in June."
"Thank you, Professor," Draco mumbled. He figured being polite was the fastest way to get rid of the old man.
First Blaise, then Kailah, Potter, and now Dumbledore? Fuck. Draco had a headache.
~*~
Monday morning came sooner than he had anticipated and a note from Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey got him out of the infirmary for classes. The headmaster had insisted that interaction with the other students and teachers was imperative for his mind to fully heal. Physical wounds were easier to heal but the ones inside Draco's head and heart were going to be harder to handle. Despite his anger at being treated once again like the Slytherin freak in the cage, Draco was grateful to be back in the world with people other than Pomfrey.
After eating in the hospital wing at Madam Pomfrey's insistence, he had gone to History of Magic, which he slept through, and Divination, which he also slept through. Neither teacher complained, and Draco wasn't sure if it was because they knew he was suffering from insomnia and really needed the sleep or if they just didn't notice. Binns was a rather boring ghost accustomed to sleeping students while Trelawney just might not have been able to see through all the crimson smoke up there in her whorehouse she called a classroom. Cloud her inner eye, indeed.
Lunch meant reporting back to Madam Pomfrey, who forced him to eat lunch. Draco had a sneaking suspicion that Dumbledore had something to do with this as most of the Professors had noticed his extreme weight and appetite loss. He choked down more food in one lunch and breakfast so far than he had probably eaten in the last two weeks. Either it was so long since he had food that his stomach didn't know what to do with it or he had eaten too much too fast. Nausea took him over but Madam Pomfrey forced him to lie down before he threw up.
Just in time for Potions, the Pomfrey bitch ordered him well enough to go to class. Draco wasn't sure whether to be happy or upset. Potions was his favorite class but not only would Blaise be there (as a Slytherin, Draco had to deal with him in most of his classes), but so would Snape's girl, Kailah. From what he had heard from gossip in the hallways streaming in through the infirmary door, Kailah and the Weasel were an item now. Draco figured it had only been a matter of time. Snape must hate this.
Draco took a seat near the front of the room like he usually did and waited for Snape to come in. He busied himself with getting his things ready and he was excited to see that today they were going to start making the Polyjuice Potion. He, himself, had been looking forward to this particular incident ever since discovering that Barty Crouch, Jr. had used it to disguise himself as Moody in the fourth year from his father. Bloody good idea even if the ruddy bastard did turn him into a bouncing ferret.
"Today you are starting to make Polyjuice Potion. If you have been paying attention in class and not acting like the bunch of dunderheads that you usually are, you will know what you are supposed to do. Page 297 for those who do not remember. Ingredients are at the front."
Students began to get their things and Draco, ever so slowly, raised his hand. It had been the first time Blaise really saw it, and even Kali had stared at the thickly bandaged hand Draco had put in the air. What had he been thinking? He had two hands and he had to pick the injured one? Bugger. He was a bugger.
"Yes, Mister Malfoy?" said Snape in that unsettling, silky voice Draco was so jealous of. All he could ever manage to do was snap or drawl.
"I'm going to need help preparing my ingredients." He looked a little sheepish as Snape's eyes turned directly to his cast. "I sort of broke my hand and it still hurts beyond belief."
"Fine." His eyes searched the class for some poor, unsuspecting victim to put Draco with. For a moment, his eyes landed on the Weasel and Draco hoped, prayed that he would not have to sit next to that ruddy Gryffindor while he did his work for him. Finally, to his great abhorrence, Snape's eyes landed on his daughter who was busy shredding her boomslang skin but her eyes were focused on Snape. Kailah wanted it to be her. Bitch. "Miss Strauser, please assist Mister Malfoy. I do hope you will take the time to properly prepare another student's ingredients as it is not your personal grade that you would be affecting."
Kill two birds with one stone, Draco thought. He sighed as Kailah said goodbye to the Weasel and dragged her things over to the front and plopped down next to Draco. Instead of going to get his ingredients, she went back to her boomslang skin.
"How did you break your hand?" Casual question, asked in such a nonchalant manner, and it only pissed him off more that he knew what she was getting at.
"I was looking through my trunk when the lid fell down and crushed my hand." It was true. It had happened. Draco just left what came after it.
"Did it fall down or did it fall down?"
"What are you insinuating?"
"Nothing," she said lightly as she continued to shred. "Was that really what happened or are you making that up?"
"No. That's really what happened."
"So what came after it? Did you trunk lid accidentally fall on your hand a few more times? No one's hand gets that mutilated from a trunk lid falling once."
"Well mine did. Are you suggesting that I would actually go around break my hand on purpose?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I'm suggesting." This time she dropped her ingredient and stared him directly in the eye. "You cut yourself. Why not break your own hand as well?"
"I thought we had a deal."
She shrugged. "I guess so. I just want to know if you broke your hand or if you broke your hand."
"Just leave me alone and go get my ingredients. I have a Potion to make here as well."
Kali shrugged, standing up from her seat and headed to the front. Draco's eyes had already left her retreating form and were focused very intensely on his bandaged hand. She wandered over to the table where Snape was leaning over lesson plans and the ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion were spread out before him.
"Professor?" she inquired before sitting across from him.
"What is it, Miss Strauser?" He looked up from his lesson plans to glance at her before looking out to the class. "Hurry this up. I need to make my rounds."
"It's about Draco," she hissed. Snape's eyes temporarily fell to Draco staring at his bandaged hand. "You know how I've been telling you about Blaise's and my own accusations?" He nodded as his attention returned to her. "Well . . . I talked to him and I don't think what happened to his hand was an accident. I thought . . . well, maybe he'll talk to you. You're his Head of House and everything."
"I'll see what I can do," said Snape. "Get back to your potion ingredients, now, and I suggest that you do prepare them properly."
"Yes, Professor," she said, rolling her eyes. Ron watched her intensely as she returned to Draco and from across the room, she winked at him.
"What was that all about?" asked Pansy, leaning over from behind. Evil creature! Evil Pansy demon! Kali began to murmur this under her breath causing Draco to slightly smirk.
"I was just talking to the professor about the potion," said Kali. "Why?"
"I thought you were arranging when to meet so that you could shag tonight."
Out of all the things she told her father about what the kids said about him in school, this was the one thing she had spared him from hearing. Miraculously, he hadn't known about it yet despite the fact it had already spread through the four houses, and if he did know about it, he never brought it up around Kali. Deciding she didn't want to chance him hearing, she hissed, "Keep your voice down. That is disgusting. He is my professor and I would never do such a thing with a teacher." Much less my father, she mentally added.
"What's wrong? Don't want him to hear that we know?" she said with a smirk. "Would that be the end of your relationship?"
Kali rolled her eyes.
"Come on, Pansy," said Draco beside her and Kali almost fell off her chair. "Leave her alone."
"You know, Draco, you're getting very curious these days. You were almost normal last month when you called that cock-fucker Zabini a faggot but now you're just prudent these days. It's very unlike you and it's unsettling." Pansy leaned back to work at her cauldron again leaving Draco and Kali be.
"Thanks," muttered Kali.
"Don't thank me. Temporary insanity. Keep shredding," commanded Draco pointing to the Boomslang skin. She was finally seeing a little bit of that nice guy that Blaise kept going on about. There seemed to be hope yet and she grinned as she set about preparing Draco's ingredients.
~*~
"Mister Malfoy, would you please see me after class," the words echoed in his head, playing over and over again in his mind.
"It's obvious, Mister Malfoy, that you are suffering from the tragic death of your father. Have you considered counseling?"
"There are many people at this school who would be more than happy to help you, Mister Malfoy."
"Mister Malfoy, you obviously need help. You've been seriously traumatized and this isn't going to go away on its own. No matter how many times you cut yourself, the only thing you're going to do is hurt yourself more than you already have."
And then, there was his favorite. The universal, all-purpose line used when confronting the suicidal boy.
"Mister Malfoy, if there's nothing to hide then you wouldn't mind showing me your arms, now would you?"
Snape. And fucking Kailah. He knew she had asked him to talk to Draco and he hated that everyone was going behind him to try and make him well when it was only driving him farther away. He hated everyone acting like they knew what was best for him when no one knew how hard it was to be going through what he was going through or to know just how bad it was affecting him except for Draco, himself. He was sick of hearing lines about living up to his potential and if one more person asked to see his arms, well, they were going to get a lot more close and personal than they had anticipated.
Counseling. Dumbledore and Snape wanted to get him counseling. Counseling with who? Harry fucking Potter, the Prince of the Golden Boys, or Boy-Who-Lived, to be more accurate? Dumbledore's favorite just because of a fucking scar on his head and that fact that he continued to suck oxygen. Everyone's favorite just because he continued to eat, walk, piss, and exist. He could beat Potter for all the times he complained. The attention could not be nearly as bad as Potter made it out to be.
But that was probably who they did want him to take therapy sessions up with. Him or maybe Snape, the one teacher he really trusted at the school. No one else ever got close enough for Draco to trust that much except maybe Blaise and look at what he had done to him. Who else would they want him to go to when it came to talking about what happened with his father and the Death Eaters?
Potter really was an idiot. He kept coming up to Draco and offering him his friendship much like Draco had done to Harry on the Hogwarts Express when going to Hogwarts for the first time. Like Potter had first reacted, Draco had respectfully declined each and every time. He didn't get why Potter was playing the saint. There was no way he actually wanted to help and it only proved just how weak he was. Potter was just stupid like that. He never cared who it was, if someone needed guidance and friendship, Potter was there to offer it. Draco had learned better. Trust needed to be earned and once it was broken, it was impossible to get back.
No one can help me. They keep saying that they know what's best for me, but they don't. No one knows. No one knows what's best for me because no one knows what's really going on. And who's fault is that? a voice whispered in the back of his mind as Draco soundlessly stripped in the middle of the low-lit dormitory. No one is here and no one is expected back for a few hours. They're all down in the Great Hall eating. Draco had enough food to last him for the next two weeks. He was only in his boxers as he pulled his dagger from his trunk with his good hand and let the cool edge sit on his scarred flesh.
Draco hesitated only a moment before pressing hard, the blade sinking into his skin and Draco grinded his teeth at the pain. There was no blood until he pulled the metal out and then a cascade began to wash over his chest in sticky waves. He watched it pour over healing wounds and the dagger dropped to the floor as he worked with his fingernails on reopening fresh wounds. The crimson bled into crimson so that the lines from the wounds were indistinguishable. Dropping to the ground, Draco pulled himself into the fetal position, screaming from the pain both on the inside and outside. He clawed at his face with his blood-stained fingers, causing scarlet streaks to appear on the pristine and unmarred flesh of his face. Draco hesitated because he had never gone this far, never touched his face, but a jagged nail caught and he felt a thin scratch dig into the skin.
Then he was clawing madly and the blood was pouring over his fingers from the wounds forming on his pale cheeks. From the constant raking of his fingers through his hair, Draco was convinced that his silvery blond hair was streaked with red. Crawling from his spot on the floor, Draco left both his wand and his dagger lying on the floor as he crawled into bed and under the sheets. At first he sobbed, but the pain was mind-freezing and his cries soon stifled. The sheets were becoming soaked with blood, his blood, and Draco was only vaguely aware that he needed to close up these wounds because if he didn't, he would die.
Rolling out of bed, he dragged his body along the floor until he found his wand. He croaked out a few simple spells and the old wounds that he reopened sealed themselves. The scratches in his face started closing up but he was still sticky with blood and his chest was still bleeding, though not as strongly as before. His spell wasn't meant for serious wounds and this one was deeper than any he made before. Crawling into the bathroom, he left a streak of blood on the white tile floor before collapsing before the mirror where Gabby, his beloved looking glass, screamed in horror.
~*~
"No, that's still not right," said Hermione as Harry failed, yet again, to perform a more complex levitating charm from their class. He sighed.
"Hermione, I don't get it. Why can't I do this?"
"You just aren't concentrating properly."
"How, exactly, does one concentrate properly."
"I don't know. You just need to focus all your thoughts on the object levitating."
"How am I supposed to do that when all I can think about is how sick I feel?"
"I told you not to eat so much before Quidditch practice."
"Are they always like this?" asked Kali as she tightened her grip around Ron's waist. He shrugged and nodded. "Hey, Ron, I wanted to tell you. You know about the Halloween Ball?" Ron nodded again. "Well - er - my dad is going to be there and I told him about you so now he wants to meet you. Don't worry. I told him that he had to be nice. I just wanted to warn you."
"Oh." Ron looked flustered and nervous. "I hope I make a good impression. My mum will be there, too. So will my brothers, Fred and George. They'll all just love you. I know it. Harry's godfather, Sirius, is coming, too, but because Hermione's parents are muggles, they won't be attending. Dumbledore tries to welcome parents of the muggle-born students but I suppose they feel rather out of place."
"Er -" said a voice from the portrait hole. There, hanging in the doorway, was a very pink and flustered Neville Longbottom.
"Can we help you, Neville?" asked Hermione.
"Eh – Kali . . . there's someone here to see you. He's just outside in the hall."
Kali's brow furrowed as she looked to her friends.
"Blaise?" asked Hermione. They looked to Neville.
"Draco Malfoy," said Neville. "Something about a deal being off and that you should get out there if you know what's good for you."
"I'll go with you," offered Ron as Kali stood up.
"He said she had to come out alone."
"It'll be alright," she assured Ron as she headed for the portrait hole.
"He looks pretty bad," said Neville softly as she passed him. "I mean, really bad." Kali nodded.
Walking out into the hallway, the portrait of the fat lady concealed the entrance. Draco's back was to her but his robes were rumpled and his hair was disheveled. Closer inspection as she approached him showed faint red streaks running through his hair.
"Draco?" she asked, softly. Nothing could have prepared her for the sight she took in when he turned around.
Practically every bare inch of skin she saw was covered in blood with the exception of two tear tracks running down both of his cheeks. The front of his robes was darker around his chest as if blood had seeped right through the material. He looked thin and gaunt, more than usual, and his chest was heaving with suppressed sobs. Glancing up so that his grey eyes met hers, she saw the tears pooling there and the pain pouring out with them. After taking him in, she moved to speak but he beat her to it.
"I think I need help."
Feel free to REVIEW and if you want a person response to something, you can email me at angeldlsm00@hotmail.com. If you want to flame, you can also send that to my email account. No use being immature and petty over the review page. J
I told you it would be an epic. Harry/Draco soon. I promise.
