Secrets and Suprises. Chapter Five: Fight
Disclaimer: Does a little dance I own NOTHING! JK Rowling is a Goddess and I am nothing but a lowlife.
Warnings: Teenage angst to the max. Slash, eventually. I am a whore for hurt and comfort. Potentially triggering content.
The corridors were well lit and mercifully mostly empty. Harry walked, feet carrying him wherever they did, mind racing. Hell, hell, hell…He tangled fingers in his hair, frustrated. He wasn't supposed to think about things like this, was he? Did anyone else have these questions? "Gah!" He exclaimed out loud, coming to an abrupt halt and hitting the hard, stone, wall with his fist. Pain shot through his hand and prickled up his arm. Breathing heavily, he sagged forwards, resting his forehead against the cool stones, eyes closed, glasses askew.
This display was far too interesting for Draco Malfoy to walk away from. Walking to his dormitory from the Library, he was all too pleased to find Harry Potter, closer to the Slytherin dungeons than any Gryffindor ever should be, looking like a madman, hitting walls, and overall being utterly irresistible…to harass.
"The Chosen One having a little meltdown then, Potter?" Something about Harry always rubbed him the wrong way. Or maybe the right way. Draco wasn't really sure, and the thought scared him. It helped to know that if Harry hated him, he could hate Harry back without feeling bad. Years of verbal jibes and near physical fights had basically taken care of that, he thought, however not without a tiny twinge of regret. That was the part of himself that Draco was trying to bury.
"As if this night couldn't get any worse…" Harry groaned, still not opening his eyes. The last thing he needed just had to go on and show up, didn't it?
"Glad I could brighten your day." Malfoy gave his characteristic smirk, cold blue eyes glinting in the low light.
"Sod off, Malfoy. Not tonight." Harry turned to face his antagonist, hand instinctively reaching for the pocket in his robes that held his wand.
"What? No friendly conversation?" Malfoy asked, surprised that Harry wasn't taking the bait. Shrugging a little to himself, he decided to try harder. "Too good for us to eat in the same room? Too high and mighty to even be in the same classroom with the rest of us plebeians?"
"Malfoy, I swear if you do not leave me alone I will end you." Harry spoke evenly in a low voice, slowly drawing his wand from his pocket to level it at his assailant. He sounded tired.
"Oh, I see how it is," Malfoy nodded mockingly, though he wasn't quite sure what he was doing anymore. Why did he feel the need to assault Harry endlessly? Why couldn't he stop and let bygones be bygones? It had something to do with the hair, the way Harry's hair feel in front of those deep green eyes. So utterly annoying and completely…entrancing. He blinked. Those were the exact thoughts he did not need. Push them away, make him hate you. "Pressure's too much, isn't it, Potter? Can't take the heat? Or, maybe this is just another plan for attention? The 'Great Harry Potter', alone and distressed in the world, take two?"
It was enough to make Harry snap. Suddenly, it wouldn't be enough satisfaction to hex the hell out of the Slytherin, he needed to feel the pain he inflicted. With an almost guttural growl, Harry leapt forward, fist driving forwards and coming in contact with Draco's left side, just on the rib cage.
Draco saw it coming, didn't have the reflex to stop it. Harry's clenched fist hit him, hard, hard enough to bruise. Rage lit like a fire in his belly and he launched himself into Harry, tackling the taller boy to the ground and punching him squarely in the jaw.
It was a fight of giants. Neither knew who was winning. Anything that could be kicked, hit, pinched, hurt, was fair game. They tumbled about on the floor wildly until Harry actually cried out in genuine pain, the sound harsh and tearing from his throat before he could stop it. The sound was enough to bring them back to reality, and both of them froze.
Draco quickly appraised their position. He was practically on top of Harry, left hand holding the other's right shoulder, Draco's right hand on Harry's other forearm, fingers digging in cruelly until he realized the tips of them were wet. Wet and red with blood.
Harry watched Draco's eyes widen in surprise, then confusion as the blue eyed boy stared at the spot where his hand had been seconds ago. Draco looked suddenly to Harry, silent eye contact made. Harry couldn't look away, he was swimming in those depths that he had never really looked, actually looked at before. Silence, and then, Harry squeezed his eyes closed, wrenching away from the soul-probing stare. He turned his head to the side, bit back bitter tears and gave one short nod. He felt cold fingers slide under the sleeve of his robe and then cold air as the flesh was exposed…
What…What is this..? Harry..! Draco thought in disbelief, and was that heartache he was feeling? He was lost in Harry's shining green eyes before the raven-haired boy looked away. An unspoken agreement. Trembling fingers reached and then pulled away the wide sleeve of the black robe. Draco gasped outright at the sight before him. Harry flinched at the sound.
"Christ, Potter…" The display was haunting. The Boy Who Everyone Loved had a secret, a big secret indeed. Pale forearm was criss-crossed with pinkish scars, some not very severe, many that were. The wound that they had opened in their fight was bleeding slowly, blood smeared by the fabric all over the area near the crook of Harry's arm. Silence save for the sound of heavy, nervous breathing. Draco stared a moment longer and then swung his leg over Harry so that he was no longer straddling the Gryffindor boy, instead sitting on his other side, by his other arm.
"This one, too..?" Draco asked quietly. Harry nodded, squeezing eyes tighter and clenching his fist. "Don't get any ideas, Potter..." Draco muttered at the gesture, pretty sure the guy wouldn't take a cheap shot, but also wasn't completely sure. He rolled up Harry sleeve on this side, now, and frowned sadly at a similar display as the opposite arm. Sighing a little, he released the other and slid up against the wall, leaning his back against it. "Well, sit up, then." He said gruffly.
Harry opened his eyes, but didn't look at Draco. Shame. That's what he felt. Of all people to know about this, why did it have to be Draco? Actually, a voice reasoned, he might be the best person to know. The only person who doesn't care enough to get in your way. Who won't make you stop. Too bad it seems like he's the only person who you want to care—Harry cut those thoughts off in an instant.Echoing footsteps down an adjoining hall alerted him to where they were—in public. Anyone could walk by and—Harry hastily began to pull his sleeves back down.
"No." Draco said, a little too sharply, then looked at Harry's distraught face. Something inside him crumbled. "We'll go to the Room of Requirement if it bothers you so damn much..."
Harry paused, almost angry, but far too tired. "Wouldn't it bother you?" Words that were meant to sound like an accusation came out as a plea, a desire for maybe just a little sympathy. He cursed himself silently.
Draco hesitated, mind racing. That was mean of me to say…"Yeah. I guess it would."
It was as much of an apology that Harry would ever get from the blonde, and so, it was an agreement.