Reparifarge: [spell] an untransfigurationspell, used to turn mistransfugred beings back to it's original state (wikia)

Harry couldn't really focus on his lessons for the rest of the day. Granted, he never had the motivation to pay much attention in class, but today he really was out of it. His mind kept going back to the encounter earlier. His bruises had stopped hurting and Harry found himself missing the pain fervently. He tried to punch and pinch himself in the sore places, but the pain didn't last long enough.

Since he had arrived at Hogwarts, he had refrained from cutting. He had longed for it multiple times, more than daily, but he simply couldn't. It was too risky, even with the spell he used to cover up his real appearance. He was around people 24/7, so as soon as the spell started fading, he would get in trouble.

Besides that, he was barely able to find the time and privacy to cut himself properly without getting caught. He had tried to hurt himself in other ways to relief himself a bit: hitting himself, digging his nails in his skin, pinching himself, holding his hands under ice cold water, everything that could be done easily without anyone noticing. But it wasn't enough. He wanted more. He wanted to cut, he wanted Malfoy to push him down the stairs again.

Harry tried to get that thought out of his head, but it wouldn't work. He didn't miss cutting alone, he also missed the abuse from the Dursly's. He needed to get kicked and beaten up, he needed the feeling that he paid for who he was. A failure. A useless "hero".

The Dursly's weren't here, but the Malfoy was just as good, and Harry found himself longing for another encounter withe the blonde. So he could feel the pain again. Of course, it wasn't as easy as it seemed. He couldn't just walk up to the Slytherin and ask politely if Malfoy would like to beat him up. Part of him wanted to, but he knew that it would make his secrets come to light and he couldn't have that. The last thing he could do, was act as everyone's precious little hero.

He pulled himself from his thoughts and attempted another go at the transfiguration spell they we're doing. He gave his wand a wave and muttered the words half-heartedly. The dove transformed fairly quickly in a box. A feathery box, flapping around with it's deformed wings and screeching God-knows-how without a beak. Students ducked away from the disaster and pure chaos emerged in the classroom. Harry woke up from his thoughts, for the first time since the encounter fully aware of his surroundings. The sight was honestly hilarious, if it hadn't been so terrifying to have a screeching monster-box flying at you.

'Reparifarge!'

The spell came from the front of the room and hit the monstrosity with a flash. It turned back into dove which fell dazzled to the ground. the class stared at it for a couple of seconds, before going back to their places and continuing with their own business. The dove took it's chance and went for the nearest window. Harry knew they normally preserved the animals used in class, but the bird had suffered enough in his opinion, so he just watched as it flew away. If only he could do the same… away from everything…

'ahem' The stern cough pulled Harry back into reality. He looked next to his desk and found a not too amused Professor McGonagall standing there.

'Mister Potter, I would like you to pay attention while handling magic', she said. Harry looked down, ashamed of himself.

'sorry professor', he answered, more to his shoes than to her. She remained silent for a couple of seconds.

'Very well, you can stay here and help me clean this mess of a room. For the rest of you: class dismissed.' She walked back to her desk as everyone begun packing their stuff. Hermiony seemed hesitant, but after a glance from McGonagall, she left the room with one last pitying look at Harry and Ron on her tail. The door closed behind them.

Harry sighed, he knew what he had to do. It was like detention with Snape, only this time he really was responsible for the mess he had to clean. He started picking up the fallen books.

'That won't be necessary, Harry. Please come over here and sit down.

He froze. Whenever McGonagall addressed him with his first name, he knew she wanted to talk about something personal. What if she had found out about him? What would she do? How can he cover it up? He tried to stop himself from panicking and put on a cold mask. He obliged and went to sit down opposite of his professor.

She eyed him with a stern but compassionate look.

'Harry, you really seem a bit absent lately. It's not just in my lesson, I've heard you were lost in yourself in other lessons too. Is something the matter?'

Harry looked down cursed inwardly. As he had feared, his mental state had become noticeable. It was his own fault, hut it was getting too hard to act like nothing was the matter. He needed to get away with this. Part of him wanted to tell McGonagall the truth, tell her how he really feels, but he knew that his secret wouldn't be safe with her. It wouldn't be safe with anyone. He had to keep lying, keep the act up. He felt his heartbeat quicken under her gaze. He really had to say something to brush her off.

'I'm sorry professor, I've just had troubles sleeping lately.'

'You're having visions or nightmares from You-know-who again?'

'Nono, it's just... regular bad dreams.' He looked up, just in time to see his head of house twitching her mouth. He knew from experience that when she did that, she didn't completely believe you. He braced himself for more questions, but none came.

'Well, we can't have you ruining classrooms. Go get some Sleeping Draught from Madame Pomfry. We can only use wizards with a good night rest here. Go now, I'll clean this room myself.'

'Yes Professor, thank you,' Harry said hastily and went for the door.

'Wait, Harry.' Harry stopped with one hand on the doorknob, not having the strength to look behind him.

'Yes professor?'

'Please do tell me if something is wrong.'

Harry just nodded and walked out of the door. He walked as fast as he could, almost running, as far aways as possible from the transfiguration classroom. He didn't walk towards the Great Hall either, as he wasn't hungry and felt that he couldn't handle social contact at the moment.

After a while, he went to lean against the wall in a deserted corridor. He needed to be alone. He wanted to cry, he wanted to die. He wasn't sure why he was feeling like this because of a stupid small talk with a professor, but he did. He felt like he had fucked everything up. Professors had noticed his behaviour. McGonagall had been suspicious. He couldn't do it. He couldn't act like he was fine. The first week had worked out, but it was too difficult, too heavy. He punched the wall as hard as he could. Pain spread through his hand and arm like a shockwave and calmed him down. He couldn't think rationally without pain.

He knew that he had to get his daily doses of pain or he could forget his little façade. If his secret came out, he might as well die. He had suffered and endured life for too long to let it all go to waste. And he couldn't destroy even more people their lives. He had done enough of that already. Now, he had to make up for it by being the perfect "Golden Boy". He slid down against the wall, hands covering his face. He couldn't do it. He was born a failure, a curse, nothing would ever change that. Everyone around him would always get hurt and it was his fault.

"mister Potter, shouldn't you be heading towards the Great Hall?' A familiar voice broke the silence and brought a feeling of dread to Harry's mix of messed up emotions. Snape.

'Professor McGonagall sent me to Madame Pomfry for some sleeping draught, Sir.'

'Ah, I see. You are not in a hurry clearly.' Harry could hear him sneering at him. 'Madame Pomfry doesn't have that in stock anymore, as she just asked me to bring some flasks of it to her. If it will make you go back to the rest of your insufferable friends, I'll give you some of it at once. Follow me.' And with those words, Snape left.

Harry wasn't sure what it was that made him stand up and follow the greasy potions master. Maybe it was because he really had dreadful nightmares that he wanted to get rid off, or maybe he secretly hoped to get insulted by Snape. He wanted that. He needed someone to just tell him again how useless and insufferable he was. Or maybe he just didn't have anything else to do and didn't want to be alone with his thoughts. Either way, he stood up and followed Snape, fervently trying to put up his mask, but barely succeeding.

They walked a few stairs down. Harry hadn't realised how close he had been to the dungeons. After some turnabouts, they stopped at a door. Snape muttered something too quiet to catch properly. Not that Harry tried to, he didn't care much for anything at this moment. He just stood outside waiting until Snape came back and pushed some flasks in his hands.

'Keep these, don't drop them because that's all you'll get for the next week. Now get out of my sight.', was all the potions master said before turning around and disappearing in his room again.

Harry sighed and walked the way back to his dorm. At least, that was his plan until he saw a familiar blonde pass by in another hallway. Something about it peeked his interest.

What was Malfoy doing here? Shouldn't he be eating dinner in the Great Hall? And why aren't his bodyguards with him? Harry wanted an answer to his questions. He stuffed the Sleeping draughts in a nearby storage room and tailed the Slytherin. Something in Harry told him this was important. Whether it had something to do with the questions in his mind or with his need for pain, he did not know, but one thing was certain:

He would find out what Malfoy was up to.

A/N Oh my! Am I sick? A chapter with a decent length? Amazing! Let's hope that I keep it up that way!

I know, I know, not much Draco to be found here, but I promise you, he'll be there in the next chapter!

Let me know what you think!