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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry, Draco, or any people, things, and plots associated with them. However, if you know who I can go to to borrow Draco for a day or two, let me know...

Chapter 3

"Leave me be
Now I'm free
Love reflecting everything
You want space
I need you to help me see this through"

"Your Star" – All American Rejects

Two hours later, Lena was sitting by her window, watching the rain come down. Funny that rain – drops of water that was meant to make things new and pure – could conceal so much; no one would see the tears you cried in the rain, the blood you shed.

A stray tear feel down her cheek. She had thought her crying was done. Hermione had come home about an hour ago and was sleeping soundly in her room, resting for the first day of classes. Lena was changed for bed, but she knew she wouldn't sleep until he was home and safe. She shouldn't have pushed so soon; she had to make sure he was okay.

Suddenly, she heard the portrait open. It was quiet, but her door was slightly open, and she had been listening for the sound. She heard footsteps that were trying to be quiet go into the door adjacent from her own. The light flicked on in the bathroom she shared with him. She couldn't stay in the dark any longer. Slowly, she made her way to the door.

Draco was examining his reflection when she came in soundlessly. He bent done to wash his face and when he looked up once more, he saw her reflection leaning against the doorframe of her own room.

"Leave," he said tiredly.

Lena shook her head and came closer, pushing her self up on the counter, inches from Draco's sink. "No. Sorry, but no."

"Lena-"

"Draco, I'm sorry if you hurt by all I said. I don't think that's who you are. You're not some murderous person, Draco. You aren't your father."

Draco's eyes flashed. He glared at her, pain and anger clear in his features.

"Yeah. Sure. You keep telling yourself that."

Draco began to walk out of the room, but her hand shot out and pulled him back. He winced as she pulled on his arm. Once he was facing her again, she got off the counter. They were so close now; he was practically trapping her against the counter. She looked up into his sad eyes, clouded over in pain and misery she knew nothing about. But she wanted to. Ever since she had come to Hogwarts, she had felt something for Draco. A strange type of connection. She knew why she was there – for him.

"You aren't, Draco," she said forcefully.

Draco closed his eyes to compose himself. She had always called him Draco, not Malfoy, never linking him to his father. Once he opened his eyes again, the anger was gone.

"What proof do you have, Lena? How can you just say I'm not like him?" he asked coldly, tired of life.

Lena's hand was still holding on loosely to Draco's arm. Gingerly, she moved her hand down to the sleeve of his white, button down shirt. She eased the sleeve up to reveal four fresh cuts made with great care into his forearm. Draco cringed when he saw them. He looked down sadly. Lena's fingers traveled up his hard chest to his chin. She gently tilted his head up so his eyes were locked into hers.

"That," she said softly, looking at his eyes, making her point clear, "is my proof."

Tears welled up in her eyes; tears for Draco. No one had ever cried for him before. She took him into her embrace, and he had never felt more cared about in his life. She pulled away almost as fast as she had hugged him.

"Come on," she said, "You should get some rest."

Draco nodded, suddenly realizing how tired the events of the day had made him. Lena put her hand in his and walked with him out of the bathroom into his dark room.

"What, are you going to tuck me in?" he asked, trying to joke.

Lena stopped and looked back at him. "Yes," she answered. She wasn't joking. Draco had never felt like this – that he had someone on his side for once. He didn't know what to say, how to act. He just looked at her. After a moment, Lena turned once more and got to his bed. She flipped the covers down and signaled that he should get in.

Sighing, Draco unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. He saw her eyes travel across his bare chest and a hint of a blush creep on to her features. Draco smirked to himself upon seeing her fleeting look. Within a moment, her eyes were back on his face, all hints of a blush forgotten. But he had seen it. He thought he'd spare her and keep his pants on. Slowly, he slid into his bed, careful not to rub his tender arms against anything.

"Sweet dreams," she whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss atop his head. With that, she left, closing the door to the bathroom behind her.

For the first time in months, Draco felt he could sleep. The tiredness had been growing and growing, but he had never felt safe enough to sleep. Until now. Once his eyes were closed, he was away, dreaming, forgetting about what he had just done to himself, remembering only what it felt like to smile once more.