Another short chappy. hope you enjoy.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
............................................................................ ............................... warning: this scene contains mild cutting. you are warned.
Little did Harry know that Draco had been looking not only at Alcyone, but him as well. Every chance he got he would turn in his seat or look across the room at them, confusion clouding his mind. Potter was his enemy, he wasn't supposed to like him, and what if his father were to find out? The blonde shivered at the thought. Draco had been dwelling on these thoughts since last year when he realized he liked the raven-haired boy. His father had beat him and locked him in his room when he had refused to get the Dark Mark, Draco couldn't imagine what would happen to him if Lucius found out he had a crush on the enemy.
And now this gorgeous new girl shows up, and she gets made Head Girl, and not only wows him with her strange, mysterious "I know something you don't" aura, but also her "I don't give a fuck what you think" attitude when she refused to be broken by rejectment. Draco was utterly confused. The dead feeling was creeping back into his brain at the thoughts of his father and he wished for his razor, longed to have the pain and cold blood that made him feel alive again.
"Professor Flitwick, I don't feel so well, may I go to the hospital wing?"
"Of course Draco if you are feeling sick" the dwarfish teacher said.
Draco gathered his books and left the room, not seeing the pair of violet eyes that looked at him knowingly as they watched him leave.
As soon as he got into the next corridor Draco began to run, the memories were too much for him now, too real, too strong.
Reaching the safety of the Slytherin common room, the blonde sighed and slowed his pace slightly. He walked to his room and closed the door behind him. Sometimes being a prefect had its advantages, like having a private room.
His razor was in his night table draw as usual, and he found it quickly and slumped down on his bed taking deep calming breathes as he ran the cool blade up his arm before cutting. Instantly the blood started flowing down his arm and over his wrist chasing away the memories of his father.
With a sigh Draco wiped the blood from his blade and put it away, then fell back on his bed and closed his eyes, savoring the physical pain that masked the emotional pain for a few precious moments.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
............................................................................ ............................... warning: this scene contains mild cutting. you are warned.
Little did Harry know that Draco had been looking not only at Alcyone, but him as well. Every chance he got he would turn in his seat or look across the room at them, confusion clouding his mind. Potter was his enemy, he wasn't supposed to like him, and what if his father were to find out? The blonde shivered at the thought. Draco had been dwelling on these thoughts since last year when he realized he liked the raven-haired boy. His father had beat him and locked him in his room when he had refused to get the Dark Mark, Draco couldn't imagine what would happen to him if Lucius found out he had a crush on the enemy.
And now this gorgeous new girl shows up, and she gets made Head Girl, and not only wows him with her strange, mysterious "I know something you don't" aura, but also her "I don't give a fuck what you think" attitude when she refused to be broken by rejectment. Draco was utterly confused. The dead feeling was creeping back into his brain at the thoughts of his father and he wished for his razor, longed to have the pain and cold blood that made him feel alive again.
"Professor Flitwick, I don't feel so well, may I go to the hospital wing?"
"Of course Draco if you are feeling sick" the dwarfish teacher said.
Draco gathered his books and left the room, not seeing the pair of violet eyes that looked at him knowingly as they watched him leave.
As soon as he got into the next corridor Draco began to run, the memories were too much for him now, too real, too strong.
Reaching the safety of the Slytherin common room, the blonde sighed and slowed his pace slightly. He walked to his room and closed the door behind him. Sometimes being a prefect had its advantages, like having a private room.
His razor was in his night table draw as usual, and he found it quickly and slumped down on his bed taking deep calming breathes as he ran the cool blade up his arm before cutting. Instantly the blood started flowing down his arm and over his wrist chasing away the memories of his father.
With a sigh Draco wiped the blood from his blade and put it away, then fell back on his bed and closed his eyes, savoring the physical pain that masked the emotional pain for a few precious moments.